Life changing, sometimes.

Life changers.

It's funny how sometimes the smallest thing changes your life out of all proportions and sometimes big things change nowt.
It was a bank holiday in Germany, I was a young squaddie in the Royal Engineers. We did bridge building, bridge demolition, all sorts of mine warfare. It was a great life, it was hard out in the field but they paid you back big style when you were not on exercise. Skiing, sailing, lots of sports. I was an orienteer.

Anyway, back to the bank holiday. I had intended to sleep till lunch and then bum around but Barry Burns had other ideas. He came in my room and flipped my bed over, with me still in it, it was a common way of getting someone up quickly. It worked. Some of the gang were going swimming, so 'Get yer arse up, your comming'.
We had been down the pool which was outdoors and we hadbenn there for about an hour and had stopped doing what squaddies always do, throwing each other in the pool and generally messing it up for everyone else. I settled down with a book.
'Wow look at that' I kept reading.
'She works in the office' I kept reading.
'She goes out with that Jackson, the boxer' I kept reading.
'Wow' I looked up, and there was a very attractive girl with two children walking over to the changing rooms. She was sixteen and they were not her children, she was just babysitting.
Roy Millington shouted across 'Hey Maggie, over here', he always did the chatting up. One of his lines to girls in town (Osnabruck) was 'Me and you, jigajig'. I would blush.
Maggie came over and they made a space on the bed spreads, each trying to get her to sit on theirs. I read my book, but snuck the occasional peek.
The day ended in the Winkle housen across the road from the barracks, some how Maggie had engineered sitting on my lap, I did not mind as my saps rose. In the drunken stupor we made a date, I had met my first wife.
Imagine if Barry Burns had not come in the room and flipped my bed, imagine if I had not gone? My history would be completely different.

Footy.

Who am I trying to kid. I'm telling myself 'I don't care about the England team, they can't win' (they won't win) I prefer club football.
Last night I stayed in, I hate being in a club or bar with people making stupid remarks like 'My Grandmother could have done better' or some fat arsed turkey saying 'I would have scored that' my blood boils. No I like to sit in with the guitar on my lap, sound off, a few beers. I need to concentrate, watch every move. I never shout, I just watch and strum the guitar when it's going tits up.
Last night England's first goal was sex with boots on, artistry comes to mind. We have scored some good goals, Gazza (Scotland) Beckham (Greece) but that goal last night will be played and played.
I'm happy now because we have showed what we can do, and I know the Spanish team and the German team are still better but we showed why the Premiership is showed all round the world every week.
Were are racked with self doubt, we get nervous and we make mistakes.
I'll be at home for the next round, sound off, guitar in hand pretending I don't care.

This was the bed that got flipped, wow I had a carpet.

This was my first wife (on the right), nice hairy armpits.

About 1978.

Another fancy dress.