No reason ....

.... Just love this lady .... just love this song ...








.... Just one more ....

Bye Amy ...

Thankyou for the gift ...

I'd rather stick pins in my eyes...

..as KLD would say.

    So, I finally got back to an optician, a local guy in the village,

a small business run by two brothers, surname Maginnis. My

guess was they were Irish which was correct and I so wanted

to ask him if his middle name was "where's" but I resisted the

temptation as I had to charm him if I was to get any glasses.

    Well how the hell do you charm an 'educated' Irishman with

a voice of pure gold? Thank god for Darren Clarke, winner of

the Open on Sunday, one mention of his name and I was in.

The soft-spoken optician agreed to sell me some glasses before

he packed me of to hospital, seems I have cataracts in both eyes.

He said I had lost 90% of my vision, but the specs would get my

sight back to around 50% and the hospital would restore the 

remainder.

   Have to say, what a cool guy he was, although I was a little 

concerned at the glint in his eye, and the restrained smile on

his lips as he described how at the hospital, they would slit the

side of my eye open with a scalpel...... then shove a needle through

said slit to draw off the cataract. This done, they would then shove

a clear plastic lens through the open slit and job done.. well, ninety

seven times out of a hundred.. ha ha .

    So all in all no big deal, but it does jog you into remembering how

precious life is, and how wonderful are all the gifts that go with it...  KRO

Apart from the title this track has little to do with the above.

.. Gifts (I'd send)

Words and music an' all that .. Derek H.

Recorded at 60a ....... April 2008

H/Phones.... please?

Footnote to last post ...

So... with just four or so minutes of a whole season to 

go we were safe, and then relegated, way to go Blues.

    Nothing else to say, and the link to this track is a

tenuous one (from a Jack to a King and back again)

but I do love it ...

KRO

Step away ...

Sorry but it's more music, just ain't got much to say these days.

Old school mate called in at Runway yesterday, long time no 

see. Said he had been playing some of my music, how cool is

that, some one listening to my stuff.

   He said he had "been mostly playing" 'Step away', the last

track my daughter and I recorded together. Spooky, but that

was over two years ago now.

  Man it's strange how time goes so quick, it's as if the older you

get, some weird 'Einsteinian' law takes over, as if the weight of

years compresses time and each new year gets shorter, and 

shorter...... 'till.... well, you know ...

Anyway.... Step away ..

 Words and music an all that ... Derek H.

 Lead vocal ... Melanie H.

 Recorded at 60a ... March 2009

   ( h/phones ... please ?)

Noughts and crosses..

Just a few days more and on the 17th of April, the swallows return

to Runway. Heather( the farm manager) however, reckons they get

here two weeks before and hide up at the top cow-shed, before 

coming round to my place, just to tease this silly old bugger.

  When I first moved to Runway I had two units, one was my office

and also where I lived for eighteen months. The other, my workshop

was some hundred feet long by twenty five feet wide, royal blue carpet

covered the floor and the walls were white.

      A few years back, on some hot June afternoon I had a thirty foot

football spread out on the floor, and was taking a break sitting on

the floor when a swallow flew in through the open barn doors.

For the next five minutes I sat spellbound as it gave me the most 

stunning display, swooping a fraction of an inch above the floor

then up into the roof.

All too soon it left, and I was left to treasure a very special few moments.

I rose to my feet to continue working and there it was.....

Bird shit all over my work.... Well, I guess nothings for free...

KRO

27th FEBRUARY 2011

...All these emotions but I can't explain them... oh Blues my Blues....

thanks to kristoff1875

.GOOD TALK SON ...

.. Had a message from my son saying he has a blog

up and running..... I don't know, ex-rock star, actor,

now author, you'd think he'd find something better

to do with his time.

Here's a track of his old band cable. He was pretty

laid back on stage, I'm told at one gig he took an

armchair, TV, and few cans and watched a film ....

As you can see below, he was a well-read kid even

in those days....

... Enzopia ....

.. Turns out that if you do crosswords with Tas and the General, and

the answer to 12 down is Enzopia, well one of you gets  this strange

eye complaint, and I have. So, I did as I was told and went to the

opticians for an eye test and specs etc. what a waste of time.

        .. I guess my warped sense of humour didn't help, as I walked into

the wall instead of through the doorway to the opticians room, and then

sat in the chair facing the wrong way, but the bottom line is she 

wouldn't sell me any specs unless I go back for further tests... ha ha ha !

 . This leaves me with a couple of choices, some I can't be arsed with, so

I'm gonna do an Andy Warhole, my dark glasses are winging there way

 here as I write ...... so all you sweet little things , shades and smokes ...

 cool way  to go ....... innit .......

Wemberrlleeeee

That proves it then, it ain't the gypsies, it's me. I'm the curse.

I fell in love with my Blues some fifty years ago, but this year

 I didn't renew my S/T, (many reasons for this) and what d'ya 

know, we get to a 'real' final, and I miss a very, very special

 night at Stans. I spent the night alone at 60a, pacing up and 

down the kitchen floor, chain-smoking and listening to radio

WM. I know it sounds daft, but I could feel the atmosphere,

and when the final whistle went I sank to my knees, fists

clenched, sweat in my eyes (brummies don't cry) and a stupid

grin on my face that is still there two days later.

   Of course the whole country doesn't want us to be there,

and the Arse are gonna stuff us 10-0, but hey, stuff 'em,

we're there, and we ain't just goin' for the 'day out, we're

goin' there to win, goin' there to piss everybody off.....

So here's a fellow bluenose doin' his stuff .........

     

New year ...

Happy new year, and the start of a new decade unless you believe it

started twelve months ago ...

Not the most exciting Christmas hols I've ever had and the Blues didn't

help, nothing to do with results or form, but they have that look and

feel of relegation certs, a look I know so well. Still, it was snug and warm

at 60a, my last ever Christmas here, it has to be sold this year, out of my

hands... should be fun.

Christmas...

.. Gonna finish at the farm today, I've had no work this

month, but that's ok. I've still been in each day, it's been

bloody cold but the drive in has been good fun, what with

the snow an' all.  Got a bit of a bad feeling about this Christmas,

maybe it's just my age but...?

..... Here's a clip that reminds me of  my childhood, and though

I'm an atheist, a clip of what Christmas is truly about, just people

showing love to one another.

To any one reading this, have a wonderful Christmas, try and think

of those less fortunate than us, and may your god go with you ...

oh what a world ...

Students rioting... all a bit tame.. Blues fans and Darkside Devils

rioting, all a bit tame... North Korea acting butch, all a bit tame

'cause the Chinese don't like 'em now... Iran acting tough, all a bit

tame, and the Saudis want the Yanks to bomb 'em any way....

and Wikileaks, what's that all about? Who's really behind all that?

    Couple of weeks ago I said to my mate that it was worth a punt

on the head of Wikileaks being arrested on some trumped up charge

 and, cut of my legs and call me shorty.... Julian Assange is nicked.

Anyway, here's Rufus... ( you're right Darius, he did nick all Cables moves.. ha ha ..)

... glory days ....

That's it then, out of work again, but at least I've made enough 

to keep me here 'till next February or there abouts. No work

so here I am moochin' around on the interweb again and read

a piece on glory days. How when we were kids in the fifties and

sixties life was better then, simpler, happier, sunnier ... bollux.

       Yes days were ace then, but that was because we were young,

beautiful, immortal and, innocent. Beautiful because we weren't

disfigured by life's scars, innocent because, with a shrug of the

shoulders most of us "didn't want to know" Mostly we had no

money or possessions, so how could anyone threaten or hurt us,

we had our youth, and you couldn't buy that at any price.

Some of us stayed, some of us left and came back, some of us left

and never returned but where-ever we finished, "they" "them" the

"system"  finally got us and plugged us into the matrix.

     I've spent my life living as close to the edge of the system as a guy

with a wife and three children could, but it still pisses me off that I have

to be a part of it, still pisses me off that I saw what I saw, heard what I

heard and did nothing to change it. Omission is, perhaps the greatest sin

of all..... I live and work alone now, alone and unplugged, no-longer

young or beautiful, no-longer innocent, no-longer immortal, but I

still smile and remember ....... glory days ......

... live music ..

... what can you say? ...

11th hour, 11th day, 11th month ..

The lads in their hundreds to Ludlow come in for the fair,
There's men from the barn and the forge and the mill and the fold,
The lads for the girls and the lads for the liquor are there,
And there with the rest are the lads that will never be old.

There's chaps from the town and the field and the till and the cart,
And many to count are the stalwart, and many the brave,
And many the handsome of face and the handsome of heart,
And few that will carry their looks or their truth to the grave.

I wish one could know them, I wish there were tokens to tell
The fortunate fellows that now you can never discern;
And then one could talk with them friendly and wish them farewell
And watch them depart on the way that they will not return.

But now you may stare as you like and there's nothing to scan;
And brushing your elbow unguessed-at and not to be told
They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man,
The lads that will die in their glory and never be old.

A.E. Housman .

Norman Wisdom

..... Norman Wisdom ... 1915-2010.

Even at this sad time, to think of him ... is to smile ....

The Few .....

High Flight
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor even eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

J.G.M.

Gifts......

Well here I am again...
Thought I'd be out of Runway Farm by now, me being
broke and no work for weeks, but hey, out of the blue
I get a job for the Sha of Oman, and farmer John has let
me off with the rent,(again) so I'm still here, still clinging
to my 'way of life'.
..... My health has been better, and my energy levels are
very, very low, and ergo my mood, I needed a lift badly,
and wow, I got two in a week. First my son sent me his
first full, published book, inside he has written that he's
sure I'm partly to blame for it.. ha ha . I don't think so
Daz, I'm sure your talent is inspite of me, not thanks to
me.
.. Anyway, lift number two... I can't afford to go down Stans
anymore, but I keep in touch through singing the blues,
a forum I post on once a week or so. A couple of days ago
I got a package from Tasmania, it was a Zippo, engraved on
it was "KRO" "Tas". I was blown away, I had no idea it was
coming. Tas ( Steve Kerr) is an ex-brummie and bluenose I talk
to on singing the blues. We met a couple of years ago when he
made (maybe) his last visit to England. We had a drink in the Wagon,
and, well I felt I'd known him all my life, what a cool guy.
.. So thank you both for my gifts, and the smile on my face..

and here's the magical, mixed-up, pissed-up John Martyn ....

skin...

.. Gaz, a blues mate of mine, tells me 

 Skunk Anansie are back together, had

a look at their myspace and yep, they 

have a new single "my ugly boy" and

 areback on tour in the UK.

...Sounds good, hope it goes well for them

but,  well,  you can never go back I guess,

and their old act will be hard to follow..

Promises..

So...

Mom and Dad

Brothers and sisters

That guy with the dog-collar

Miss Parry the Art teacher

Colin Leary and Alan Carr

Susan Slattery and Pamela Parker

The "Clegg and Cameron" show

All chairmen of the Blues

Sun-lit dawns in Devon

Burgers in McDonalds

Speedo's on 1960's Bonnys

Train time-tables

Journeys to far-away places

Snow flakes a week before Christmas

After-shave and Capello..

Oh... and me to me ......

Pernicious anemia ...

Just over twenty years ago I fell ill.

At that time I ran my small business with a staff 

of about twelve people and a family of three young

children, ( and a wife ) to care for and look after.

It follows of course that my health was of little

importance to me, and I had neither the time or

inclination to get it sorted.

         After much bullying from family and friends

I went to see a doctor,( give it me straight Doc ) he

told me if I didn't get it sorted, then pretty soon I

would die, happy days ...

   After tests I found it was much ado about nothing..

all I had was Pernicious Anemia. Altough quite interesting

it was no big deal. No-one really knows how this happens

or why the body destroys your  "Intrinsic factor" although

it's thought that alcohol can be a cause, and I loved my whisky

at that time.

Worth a cut and paste if you're interested...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pernicious_anemia

Anyway, enough waffle, I went for my shot of  Cyanocobalamin today,

and was told it isn't, and wont be, produced ever again.

There is an alternative, Neo-Cytamin , but I am allergic to

this and cannot take it. So hey, life on the edge, exciting times ahead ... 

Life is just a bowl of cherries ......  ain't that the truth ....

Maori....

Ehara i te mea

No naienei te aroha

No nga tapuna

Tuku iho, tuku iho

Do not believe that love is merely 

A thing of the present

Nor is it a gift, handed down by the ancestors.

It is in all things, now, forever, and always..

Kia kaha ...

.. God ......

.. we saw him last night and, well .........  wow ....

   He was on top form, just him and his piano at his best,

   but this track just blew every-one away .....

... Vol Canoes ......

.. sorry, meant volcanoes ..

  Iceland, don't you just love that place..?

First they nick all our cod, then take all our

money, and now they ground every aircraft

in UK air space.... brill .......

    I don't care, 'cause I'm off to see Rufus at

Symphony Hall next Tuesday, god knows

how I'll get there ( with one leg an'all) but

I will.

    Only two games left at Stans, looks like

they may be my last, as I can't afford a season

ticket anymore, my "end of the road" I guess.

... So I've.....

... got some work... yeahhh.
Well ok then, lets turn it up loud and dance .......

 

never mind......

... nothing good around right now, even have some farce

    of an election going on, what a bummer..

         As always there's music to go back to, and I often go

    back to this girl, and then I always go back to this........

.... well I don't care ...... it's my blog......

     and this track is gobsmackin'ly ace .......

.... when I was a nipper they all said that

smoking just wasn't cool... well, come on...

So, today is "Pack-up smoking" day. I've read so much on the

evils of smoking cigarettes ... I've read how bad it is for your

health.. I've read what a drain it is on the NH service.....

I've read how unpleasant it is for none-smokers.... I've read

how I could have bought a small south pacific island with

the money I've wasted...  I've read how.....  ah sod it, that's

it, this time, I'm really going to do it.....................................

Yep, I'm giving up .... reading .....

anyway... smoke gets in your eyes...

(this track made me take up alto-sax)

Human...

.. so we took our time to turn each bend...

   and all we found was time without end..

One life is trivial, together, our only hope

is infinity .....

who are ya......

.. Talking the other night about how anonymous 

blogs are,  I could be Tony Bliar for all you

know.... well maybe not. I don't do photographs,

hate 'em, I have just three in my collection, one

of which is a picture of me at Runway Farm.

      This was taken about eighteen months ago,

and shows me swearing allegiance to my religion.

Oh... I'm a bluenose Jedi .....

... Here's a cool track... crap video, too heavy ...

J.D. Salinger.. 1919...2010

So, all the 'smart people' are out, telling us what to think 

of you..... well I wouldn't know about all that....

But on behalf of a teenage kid I once knew, thank you,

thank you J.D. Salinger ....

seal of seasons ....

I wanna tell you a story, I think it's true.

Once upon a time there was a bank called RBS, this bank

gambled away all it's money and was about to go bust.

    Our government stepped in and said, hey, don't worry

we have billions of tax- payers money we can give, so,

panic over.  A while later, a very, very healthy company

called Cadbury, was the subject of a hostile but succesfull 

bid from Kraft, a foreign company.

     Sadly, Kraft didn't have enough cash to buy Cadbury,

so they have to raise it from banks etc. One of these banks

is... yep, RBS, the bank we now own. It follows of course 

that we, or our government, can have a say in all this,

after all it is our bank, our money........

Oh no we feckin' can't.

        In my previous post.....

I guess what I should have said is ' all Brummies are cursed with good hands,

 and we USED to create/manufacture anything, but those days are long gone.

Now Cadbury is in the hands of foreign owners, and will soon be taken from

this land, preceded by so many great names lost to England, since sweet lady

Thatcher opened the door.

         The press, national and local, are having a field day, and our glorious 

leaders are spouting their usual empty words, they are all powerless. Money

talks, and has the last word as always. We as a nation may grumble for a

while, then just roll over and let it happen, maybe we're just gutless now

and no-longer have the stomach for a fight, or are we visionaries, leading the

world in globalization , tearing down national barriers, shrinking the planet,

breaking the seal of seasons ......

... 'ave it ......

So, the Blues my Blues ......

Most football matches were called off last week-end (well it snowed didn't it?)

apart from the Blues and the Baggies ( and some poncy southern team).

Blues had a full-house, set a new club record of twelve games undefeated and,

most of us left Stans peed off at only drawing with Manure.

    Full-house eh..... looks like we'll have to get used to the 'Glory Huntin' fans'

as our  family (Eck and his team, Carson and us) are set to conquer the world. (wink smilie)

So for our new world wide fans, here's some info on Brummies...

     All Brummies are cursed with 'good hands' , we can create/manufacture anything

including wealth, though that is stolen from us by southern softies, bankers, and public

school politicians, but we..... well we just 'get on with it'.

We are not, repeat not part of the 'Black country', they are Yamyams, we are Brummies.

Ask any Yamyam what a Brummie is and they'll say "a miserable git". Ask any Brummie

about a Yamyam, and they'll say, "they need a passport"

    However, we do share a common border, and  we, (Brummies) speak Old English,

and if you can't understand us, well tough titty. Yamyams however, due to our sharing

said border, have stolen many of our words and phrases and not even we can understand

them now. So should you mistakenly cross the border into Yamyam land, here's a link

you may find useful, nay essential on your quest to leave as soon as possible.....

www.sedgleymanor.com/dictionaries/dialect.html

(you may have to c&p etc.)

Anyway, being a Blues fan right now? It's bostin .......  KRO

stop, and open your.....

Well, a new year, a new decade and everyone's back at work, or not.

Seems I'm the only one enjoying the cold weather and the snow it

has brought, seems you're all to busy chasing the next few quid to

stop and open your eyes to these beautiful sights set before us.

    I take a short cut when driving back from Runway Farm, using

a country lane untreated, and unused by most traffic .  Brees Lane,

across Table Oak and into Holly Lane where, for most of it, the

tall trees meet above your head. Right now it's as if they have been

covered by the most beautiful lace shawl ever created .

    Well there's beauty and then there's ............

>

.. oh go on then..... just one more .....

..this week I 'as been mostly playin' ..

.......Wilco.... Don't know who they are.

don't know what they are.. cool or crap ..

All I know is the more I listen to them ..

Well......... Wow ...........

Think I'll finish work today, looking forward to
spending Christmas in the warm at 60a, man
it's been cold at Runway Farm this last week
or so.
Don't know what to make of Christmas anymore,
but that goes for most things now. Guess it was
and always will be, for the 'children'. Thinking
back to my child hood, although of course Father
Christmas and presents were very exciting, it was
the Nativity story that I loved the most. It filled me
with wonder and was so full of love and hope.
Now, sadly, I find it as believable as Santa......

Anyway, to all my many readers, and they are legion,
I wish you a warm and happy Christmas, and may
your God go with you ...

Here's Joni, a companion of mine at Christmas .....

Forgot about this place. guess that's

because I've got nothing to say, and 

at such times it's best to say nothing.

When you are quiet and say nothing

then that's the best time to listen, and,

if you're gonna listen then the best

thing to lend your ears to is a bunch

of musicians having fun .............

( come on youtube.. behave.. )

       

11th hour

11th day

11th month

In Memory of Private Reuben Hinks

2468, 2nd Bn., Royal Warwickshire Regiment

who died aged 21 on 9th October 1917

Remembered with honour

 

TYNE COT MEMORIAL

I often think of Reuben and his "pals"

especially this time of year of course,

and the saddest thought, is that for

Reuben and many of his mates,

the war never ended .......

.... they shoot horses don't they.....

Had four numbers in the lottery, yeah £66, Vegas here I come.

Apart from money to "good' causes, I don't know why I do the

Lottery, you can't win it twice, can you?

    I was born English and white. Now if you have the stomach for

it, go look at news-clips of children in other parts of the world,

( you know where) then convince me that I didn't win the Lottery

the day I was born. I'm descended from Irish immigrants,and I'm

told, if you go back a few centuries my family were Irish tinkers,

following Cromwell's army around mending their pots and pans.

Now there's a bloodline to die for.

        It follows that my children are English. My youngest daughter

 now lives in Gimhae, South Korea. Apart from getting a few bits of

paper stamped, she had no trouble getting there, and was welcomed

with warm smiles and generous hearts. I don't know all the reasons

for her leaving the U.K., but I'm sure a contributory fact was the death

of her close friend Jamie., a young man of twenty one years, who was

 serving with the British Army when he lost his life in Helmand

 Province,protecting us and, the Afghan people. 

        Afghanistan, watched a program documenting young Afghan

 families fleeing from the Taliban, fleeing from the land where Jamie

 had died. Their journey involved traveling through Turkey, then 

sailing across the Aegean sea in tiny inflatable 'boats'. Many are

 drowned and don't make the crossing, those that do are herded into

 buildings, so awful, you wouldn't let a dog live there, let alone

 humans. I don't know the numbers, but I'm sure a few complete their

 journey to their 'promised' lands of France, Germany and the U.K.

 where of course, as they arrive, clutching their precious bits of paper,

 appropriately stamped, they are welcomed with warm smiles and,

 generous hearts......

.......... aren't they ?

     

..so, the blues, my blues...

Well, at last they've gone, those tired little

people with frowns on their faces,  clouds above their heads, and money in their pockets.

In their place, as a new board,  we have people from a faraway land with light in their eyes,

smiles that are so infectious, and so much energy you feel that they can carry us to "the end

of the road". Well I do, but then I'm just a 'boy' so I'll quote two chinese proverbs, take your pick.

Is it because.." The longer the night lasts, the more our dreams will be?"

or are we to ... "Dream different dreams while on the same bed?

Hey, lets ride the "Tiger"    KRO

.. well, what a bummer of a week-end.

   The Blues play shite and get beaten by Burnley ( yeah.. Burnley)

   but, that's ok I guess, it's what we do.

       Then there's the Irish... A while back they voted no to the Lisbon

   treaty, how cool was that?  We all knew though, it didn't count because

   they didn't vote yes, so there would be another vote, and another etc.

   until they voted yes.  Sure enough there was another vote, and the EU

   threw a much money as it took ( even broke the law on media coverage)

   to get the Irish people to vote yes.

         Don't you just love it, "capitalist run democracy" at it's best/worst.

    But that's ok I guess, it's what we do..... so to cheer myself up here's

    a clip of Monroe.. Simone... and Dylan...    

        ( If youtube remove this, I'm gonna find a little guy and give him what for..)

September..

. So, it's almost gone, September...
and this year it has been as beautiful as only September can be.
It's almost as if nature is saying... sorry, but the summer has gone
now, so to make it easier, go walk in the early morning mists that
hug the valleys, go feast your eyes on these stunning colours, go listen,

to our own blackbirds song, now the swallows have left for southern skies.

   September seems to me, now, a month in which to reminisce.

I remember Rebecca... she bought me this song by Sting a long time ago...

Or was it only yesterday........ eat your waters kiddo......... x

... surely nothing can stop it now?

    Sully and Brady are leavin'..... and I'm ..........

... spioncop put me on to this guy Phil Ochs.
This is a cover version by Ani DiFranco of  one of his tracks.
It's close to being the most beautiful track I've ever heard.




..... are you brave enough to listen while you're alone?

  There's no place in this world where I'll belong when I'm gone

  And I won't know the right from the wrong when I'm gone

  And you won't find me singin' on this song when I'm gone

  So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

  And I won't feel the flowing of the time when I'm gone

  All the pleasures of love will not be mine when I'm gone

  My pen won't pour a lyric line when I'm gone

  So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

  And I won't breathe the bracing air when I'm gone

  And I can't even worry 'bout my cares when I'm gone

  Won't be asked to do my share when I'm gone

  So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

  And I won't be running from the rain when I'm gone

  And I can't even suffer from the pain when I'm gone

  Can't say who's to praise and who's to blame when I'm gone

  So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

  Won't see the golden of the sun when I'm gone

  And the evenings and the mornings will be one when I'm gone

  Can't be singing louder than the guns when I'm gone

  So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

  And all my days won't be dances of delight when I'm gone

  And the sands will be shifting from my sight when I'm gone

  Can't add my name into the fight when I'm gone

  So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

  And I won't be laughing at the lies when I'm gone

  And I can't question how or when or why when I'm gone

  Can't live proud enough to die when I'm gone

  So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.....

11th September 2001

... have they changed?

chayabarry

chaya .......

.. there was a tavern ........

... found this on a Birmingham City fans forum.
Don't know why I've put it on here, not sure
Les Robinson would approve, hope I haven't
offended him. KRO



Once Upon a Time, There Was a Tavern by Les Robinson

I remember we got into town that night at about 8 o'clock, It was a cold November night but the 55 bus dropped us less than 400 yards away, a few minutes brisk walk.

We got into the pub at about 8 10pm, the three of us, Steve Grater, Steve Cox and myself, we knew quite a few of our friends would be down there already and even more would arrive later.

I remember going to the bar and buying three pints of Lager, Steve C meanwhile had put some money into one of those new fangled video machines, the bat and ball game. Sure, old fashioned and simplistic now, but then? Wow!

I had always been a bad loser at most things, thankfully, I've mellowed now and although I still like to win, its not the be all and end all that it once was.

Damn..I was losing and losing badly. I punched the machine and walked away, Steve C shouted to me to come back. I turned from the middle of the pub and did what was for me a strange thing...I actually listened.

I put my hands on the button and then my whole world roared like a thousand thunderstorms raging in my head.

I flew through the air doing a complete somersault before hitting the wall at the bottom of the stairs. I could smell burning, my ears hurt like I had never known, with my eyes wide open I couldn't see an inch in front of me.

The IRA had detonated the second of their bombs that night in Birmingham.

I was lying in the rubble that seconds before.....was the Tavern in the Town.

Anyone who says they saw legs and arms missing etc, well, take it from me, they certainly weren't in there at the time.

Every light blew in the pub, plunging it mixed in with the dust, into total darkness, you couldn't see a thing.

My both eardrums burst with the concussive effects of the bomb, I had taken shrapnel to over 15 parts of my body, and my hair had burned off due to the heat effects of the blast, Later, I noticed sacs of fluid hanging from my fingertips that had been directly exposed to the bomb

My trousers had blown apart at the seams due to the pressure going up my legs and being unable to escape at the waistband, my nylon sweater had melted to my body..

I started to rise to my feet but kept falling over, my balance gone, along with my eardrums..I remember crawling up the stairs and as I did so, my arm slipped through a jagged hole in the stairs where the bomb blast had punched through...I got to the top of the stairs, I still think to this day, the first person to get out of there that night. Town was in uproar....no one stopped to help me.

My dad always said to me, 'Les, if you're ever in trouble, tell me'

Dad, I was in trouble. I decided there and then to make my way home to Hindlow Close in Nechells. I 've always had this thing about, you can't die on your feet. I had to stay up, I was determined to.

I look back on it now and liken it to learning to ride a bike, I'd go a few yards then simply and slowly ... just fall over ... I was in no real pain, Shock yes, fear perhaps, pain .. not yet, that was later ... I remember the only time I cried ... it was when I got to the long wall going down Curzon St. I cried because it meant I could stop myself falling over as I made my way home. I saw a friend called Jimmy Kennedy as I neared home, he was with his girlfriend Lucy, they were going up to town because Lucy's sister was in the same pub. Jimmy later said ' I looked like a monster'. Looking back, I can't remember why he didn't help me.

I got home, I dont remember how long it took, I just know it was slow and hard.

I knocked my house door and our lodger, Arthur Powell opened the door and I fell into his arms. I was home, I was safe. A neighbour two doors away took me up to the Accident Hospital in Bath Row. He was an Irishman named Mr Quinn.

Folk over the years have said 'I bet you must hate the Irish'

How can I? My brother married a girl from Limerick. They have two fabulous children. Tell me, which part of them should I hate?

I came out of the Accident Hospital on November 23rd, I remember lying in bed staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep, my Dad not wanting to leave me alone must have lay there awake listening to my moans.

People never told me that even with your eardrums burst there was still a roar going through my head that seemed like it would never end.

I remember the most awful thing of all ... the smell of my hair that had been reduced to a small frizzled stubble. I had taken several pieces of glass under my right armpit, one through my knee, my left eye (thankfully missing the eyeball itself) a few more in my leg and one to my hip.

On the whole I'd much rather have been in Philadelphia. I remember my family coming to see me over the next few days. My Uncle Les, a huge man being reduced to tears as he hugged me. My Uncle Tommy Brennan, unable to face me because he was Irish ... silly, silly man, I loved him very much.

I made my way up to the Bathroom to try to get myself cleaned up, when I looked in the mirror at my peeling and burned face, I felt like crying. I was a 22 year old man with no hair and a scabby face ... bloody hell, did this mean I'd have to start supporting the Villa soon as well?

Various friends came down to see me, my closest friend Alan told me how much his Mom was worried about me. His Mom? She had been like one to me too. I knew I had to pay her a visit just so she knew I was alright. I caught the 55 bus to Cole Hall Lane to see her. I remember people looking at me then when I met their eye, they turned away.

My friend Steve C had taken worse injuries than me, thankfully like mine though, only minor. He came out of Hospital, two weeks later. Steve G fared a little worse. He had been out in the open and taken half a beer glass into his back. Paradoxically, the further away if you survive the blast. the more shrapnel came at you.

I remember meeting up, the 3 of us, collectively the worst hair styles in history. I was off work nearly 5 months while I recovered, I wrote earlier I have never once dwelled upon it. That was a fib. My first drink in a pub post Tavern was when my friend Steve C's brother-in-law took us up to the Skylark on Castle Vale. I remember sitting down all calm and collected as we waited for our drinks. As he bought them over and I lifted it to my lips, I began to shake like a man holding a Pneumatic drill. It took me another 3 months to get over it.

I said I never lost friends in the Tavern. I did .. but not like you'd think. With the money from The Lord Mayors fund, from Criminal Injuries, from Collections at the CO-OP dairy where I worked, plus local pubs, the Erdington Round Table, we were paid thousands. The equivilent easily of 2/3 years wages by todays standards. There were seven of us with such riches. Now, think of our other friends who had arrived late and missed it. They never saw the pain, only our money.

One of my closest friends who was in there with me ... well, it happened like this. We had received £500 pre Christmas to spend on what we will. I was also on full pay from the Dairy as well as various collections; (free milk, eggs, pop etc..thanks Harry!)


In the March, my second large payment landed on my doormat..it was for a £1000. Hurriedly I ran round to my friends house to see if he'd had the same. As I showed him my check all excited (remember if, you were on £40 a week then, it was the equivilent of 6 months wages now). He looked at me and said the most devastating line I'd ever heard. 'You should have died in that place'. His postman had not yet been. He tried to apologise a few days later when the postman called a few hours after I'd been round. Sorry, I'm a bit petty, I wanted and still dont, any of it.

Its burns day (no, not the Robbie one) at the Accident hospital in Bath Row. There I am feeling all sorry for myself, scabby face, no hair (growing back mind), really poorly fingers that had been directly out in the blast. When a young girl sat down beside me. I couldn't tell her age, it could have been anything from 13 to 23. She told me that when she was 10, she picked up a can of petrol that her dad had used to light a bonfire. You want to know her ambition? She wanted a nose again.

My name is Les Robinson, I wont write about the Tavern anymore. I only did this because even 29 years later, I am still thoroughly ashamed of myself

a beautiful sadness ..........

.. Pretty things ...........