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ONE – The shit hits the fan

Having got to this page, the first question you should be asking yourself is why are you investing a part of your life reading what will most likely come across as the ravings of a sentimental, self-aggrandising, self-oriented arse-hole? Shame arse hole doesn’t begin with an ‘S’ but you can’t have everything. He swears a lot too.

If you’re still with me, lol.

This is a biography of sorts and to be honest, I am not sure why I am writing it. I have already written a book that covers quite a bit of the terrain but part of my brain keeps shouting there’s more, there’s more. The other part of my brain, of course, is shouting who gives a fuck? Anyway, I don’t have the energy (or probably the life expectancy) to worry about the whys any more so I am putting it out there and if I get to be the only one who reads it, I’ll be happy. Let’s face it, I’ll never know if there is anyone out there, let alone who’s reading this.

So, it’s a biography and I guess I should start Julie Andrews style, at the very beginning. I was born in in 1959 into an RAF fam…………………. zzzzzzzz. I am sure you don’t give a fuck about that sort of shit so I am going to start on 25th November 1991. I was alone at Sandown Park racecourse having spent a pretty good afternoon winning a little, losing a little. I was exiting the grandstand when my heart suddenly accelerated for no good reason to somewhere in the vicinity of 250 beats a minute. This, of course, came as something of a shock and I stopped dead in my tracks. Well, not dead, but you know what I mean.

Dead was, in fact, to come later. More of that in due course.

If you know Sandown Park racecourse you will know that you have to go down a bank of steps to get to the car park (at least you did then, I don’t go there any more). I was half way down when it happened, so having stopped, I found myself stranded, if it’s possible to be stranded in an ocean of people. Having almost initially passed out I knew I was in serious trouble. Suddenly waiting for six of the best outside Father Mark’s office (actually he was never that good, I think calling them the best is pushing it a bit).

At this point a minor digression. I like to think of myself as a bad boy in my time at school but the truth is that I was neutral a lot of the time and participated in the injustices that are inherent in such places by my simple inaction. Accordingly, I only ever got six from Mark once. All other beatings don’t really count. It’s when the headmaster has to do it that you can put it on the wall. There were far worthier heroes than I.

Anyway, back to stranded. The human brain and its relationship to existence is a funny thing, something I hadn’t fully appreciated until that moment. At this point everyone and everything else almost ceased to exist. There was this, like, enormous expansion in my head and all my senses turned inward. I did catch the odd remark as people pushed by, but I am not sure if I hear them only in retrospect. For some incredibly strange reason the only person that comes to mind when I think of this time is Major Ben, an old biology teacher from school. He shouted at me, living thing, responds to external stimuli, you’ve had it, mate. Of course, he would never say mate, he was a Major, so it was clearly a product of my imagination. Just goes to show the weird stuff that goes in in your head when you get caught unawares.

Time passed and the only thing I can remember thinking is whether I should go back and look for a St John Ambulance man (it was man, then, not person) or continue to the car. It was a difficult decision, not least because I was terrified to move. Every time I inched one way or the other my heart seemed to imperceptibly quicken, threatening what I instinctively knew would be arrest. In the end, I realised there was no decision. There was no way I could get back up the stairs so it was down or nowhere. By this time, the crowd had gone and I was alone on the steps.

I was familiar with feeling alone so I wasn’t phased by that. I boarded at a prep school and went on to Public school (minor, I might add, subsequently closed down due to colossal incompetence and ineptitude but that’s another story. You can find them in Wikipedia). I wouldn’t send my kids to such a place but I have to say it helped me to not feel anything at that particular time so maybe there was something in developing a bit of emotional scar tissue. (Yeah, that’ll be it).

I took the first step down.

It’s a funny thing about good things and bad things. Good things are gone before you can really appreciate them. Bad things have a relationship with time that is hard to fathom. It is as if someone takes the bad thing and stretches it so that it seems to become your whole life and there is no end. Add that to the fact that I was moving incredibly slowly for fear of triggering an arrest and you will understand how I now describe that walk of no more than two hundred metres as an eternity.

Of course, I made it. God knows how, but I made it. The eternity had passed and I managed to get into my car and slump back in the driver’s seat. By that time there was not a single car left in the car park, other than a dilapidated bus or coach that looked as if it hadn’t been driven since Bedrock days. If you are familiar with racecourse car parks you will realise just how long it must have taken me to get to my car.

It was at this point that I realised I was totally soaked. Even my jumper was soaked. I hadn’t given it a thought before but when your heart beats at extremely fast speeds you sweat a lot. I had been sweating so much and for such a long time that I was literally wet through. I closed my eyes, what to do next?

I had to do something. If I didn’t they would more than likely find me dead at the wheel of my car in that God-forsaken car park. And worst of all, not for a few days. The thought was chilling.

Of course, I did what I’ve done all my life. The most stupid thing you can think of! I turned the key and started the engine.

Read on………..