At my Junior School they tried to make me write with my right hand.
Without thinking I never did.
I don’t remember them being horrible to me.
At my Junior School I wrote words down from back to front.
To this day I can’t spell.
Ask my lovely Jo x
When I went to comprehensive school the teachers told my Mum I had:
“The reading ability of a 6th former.”
But I couldn’t spell for shit. I probably couldn’t spell shit!
Out of all my school years only one thing was of any purpose to me.
That includes all the years and all the lessons.
One thing in one lesson was of any use.
I remember being surprised.
The English class had started by someone handing books out.
Plays of the 60’s which I still have.
I was paying my usual lack of attention staring out of the window.
Until, Mr Clark walked towards me and said he wanted me to read the part of Billy.
And so it was.
“It was a day for big decisions.”
What started off as a reading later became a fascination with a character. A character whose imagination was wondrous to me.
I still feel sad when I think about Billy getting off the London train.
I’m sure that his loss, was my gain.
And soon my trips to London were becoming more and more frequent, even at the age of 16.
I wonder if my brief excursion into standup comedy was influenced by Billy’s “man o the dales routine?”
Probably. Losing legs rings a bell as well.
“Does it look like I’ve had my bloody leg off?”