 |
| TC Dixie |
I think I have finally
reached that age where looking back is almost preferable to looking
forward. Perhaps it isn't really an age thing at all, but a feeling
of uncertainty about what my future holds and what I am
actually 'doing with my life'. I feel busy quite a lot of the time
and 'useful', particularly when I am on my travels helping other
people on their farms and in their gardens, but I'm not really sure
what I am actually doing or who I really am. I keep dipping my toe in
different patches of water to see if things fit, for example, as I like
cooking, I now bake for the local Country Market and have recently
joined a local singing group as, many years ago, I used to enjoy
belonging to a Choral Society. But I just feel sometimes that I no
longer quite fit in to any niche: I've been a wife, twice; I've been
a mother, twice, but the marriages ended and the children don't need
my every day input any more and I feel like I'm marking time. So it's
been quite interesting to have a bit of a nostalgia-fest recently.
As I wrote, back in
October, I attended a School Reunion where, not only did I meet up
with 'girls' that I was at school with in my teens, but also some
'boys' that I knew from Junior School. It knocked me off kilter for a
day or two afterwards as, having your distant past suddenly colliding
with your present is a bit unnerving but, on balance, I would say
that it was a very positive experience and put me back in touch with
people who had been very important during my formative years.
So it was with a degree
of trepidation that I agreed to go with Jeni and Dave to their Dad's
college reunion, a couple of weekends ago. Ed attended Twickenham College of Technology where
he joined the very vibrant music scene and became part of a jazz band
called TC Dixie. In fact, he and I met when, one summer when I was at
College and working for the holidays in the Lake District, a large
group of ex-Twickenham College students, staff and their families
arrived for a week's holiday.
Roll forward a couple
of years and we were living in Twickenham and TC Dixie had become
semi-professional, with gigs in pubs and clubs around London, at weekends.
Sometimes I would tag along and act as unofficial roadie, helping to
carry in amps, mics and metres of leads from the back of the car (Ed
had an estate car so got to carry a lot of the gear!) You get to see
venues before the razzamatazz of the event; stale beer and smoke
smells, harsh lighting highlighting the stained table tops and
scuffed carpets, the peeling paint and general world-weariness of it
all and then – transformation! Low lights, milling people,
laughter, chat and above it all the vibrant live music filling the
place with magic. There was a core of players in TC Dixie that never
changed but often there would be a different person who stayed for a
while – they had an actor who used to play the drums and Acker
Bilk's former trumpet player was a regular for a long time – his
rendition of 'Georgia on my Mind' used to make the back of my neck
prickle. When we left Twickenham for the West Country in about 1977
this all came to an end and I hadn't seen anyone from that era much
since then.
Roll forward 38 years
and you find Jeni and me driving down the A303, up the M3 and into
Twickenham where I managed to find the Premier Inn that we'd booked
into, without too much difficulty. It shouldn't have been difficult
at all as it was located next to our 'local' pub that I perhaps went
in half a dozen times when we lived there! It was odd to realise
that, although I had lived and worked a stone's throw from here for
four or five years, I couldn't remember the area at all! Luckily, Ed
and his partner came to pick us up and take us to the venue as it was
on the other side of Twickenham and I would never have found my way
there. Dave had just arrived from Stevenage when we got there so we
all went in together and there they were – the people from my past,
older obviously, but still recognisable once the initial strangeness
had worn off. The 'gig' kicked off at 2.30 and we were treated to
several different performances during the afternoon from the
wide-ranging talent that had flourished back in the late Sixties and
early Seventies at Twickenham College. Some of those present had gone
on to become professional musicians and were still performing today,
others had got back together especially for the concert – there was
jazz, rock, electric folk and blues and, at the end of the day, TC
Dixie, playing their vibrant Dixieland jazz. I tried to take a couple
of videos (which my camera subsequently deleted ,unseen) but I was
tapping my foot and singing along with a huge grin on my face so they
probably would have been useless anyway! In fact, for their entire
performance, I was aware that I was grinning from ear to ear, so much
so that my jaw muscles ached afterwards! When you think that these
guys (apart from the drummer) were well into their sixties, hadn't
performed together for decades (apart from these reunions, which only
started about four years ago) and hadn't had the opportunity to
rehearse beforehand, the sound they made was incredible and
uplifting. What a blast!
But nostalgia hadn't
finished with me yet. A couple of days ago, one of the people that I
met up with again at the School Reunion, posted a very interesting
article on Facebook about the various historical spas that had been
located in Cheltenham (my home town, for anyone who doesn't know that
and, no, before you ask, I did not go to the Ladies' College!). At
the end I went to click the 'Like' button but someone else had beaten
me to it – a name I hadn't seen for so many years that I did a
double-take. Could it be? It wasn't a particularly unusual name, but
it seemed like too much of a coincidence, so I clicked onto his
Facebook page and, looking at his photo, I realised that it was
definitely him! My biggest childhood buddy, from Junior School.
I'm afraid I shall have
to explain a bit about my early life so that you can fully understand
why this seemed to be such a momentous occurrence. From the time I was born until I was 6, I lived with my family on one side of Cheltenham and
attended the local school. When I was nearly 7, we moved to a larger
house to accommodate our growing family (my brother had just been
born), but this house was on the other side of Cheltenham. Mum and
Dad didn't want to move us from our school as we were doing so well,
so we continued to attend. However, this meant that we were separated
from most of our friends but, surprisingly, there was a small enclave
of other pupils living quite close to us in our new home, who also 'commuted' to
school – Nigel being one of them. As being at a different school
more or less ostracised us from the local youngsters, we tended to
hang around in a group together, and spent hours playing in the old
derelict house and grounds across the road from our house, climbing
trees, making bows and arrows, that sort of thing, and Nigel, being
my age and in my class at school, was my special mate. Once we went our
separate ways – he to the Boys' Grammar School and me to the
Girls', we seemed to lose contact almost overnight. Why does that
happen? When I look back, I lost touch with virtually all of my
Junior School friends at the same time, even those who went on to the
same school as me(although the policy then was to split up friendship
groups and put them in different classes – how cruel was that?).
On a whim, I sent Nigel
a 'friend request', failing to fully identify myself and the next day
was just about to send a message to explain, when he granted my
request – he'd managed to work out who I was, despite the name
change. For an hour or so yesterday afternoon, we messaged each other
back and forth, exchanging memories mainly but with the firm
intention of meeting up in the New Year as he only lives at Taunton
with his wife of 41 years (it was their anniversary yesterday) and I
think some of his five children live nearby, too! Again, for the
whole of the time that we 'chatted' I wore a stupid grin on my face,
which continued for most of the day.
I'm sure that most of
you are now shaking your heads in dismay that I seem to be a lot
happier wallowing about in my past than I am living in my present,
and I must admit, that it bothers me too, but I'm hoping that somehow
it will help me in the long run to remember who I used to be, so that
I can work out who I am now. Well, that's enough of the deep thinking
for now – the next blog will probably be after the festive season
is over so I shall take this opportunity to wish my loyal reader(s) a
very happy time over the coming few weeks and I'll be back (hopefully
on top form) in 2016!
No comments:
Post a Comment