Tag Archives: brownsover social club

Have You Ever Seen The Rain ?

Wasn’t January a bitch ?

Bowie, Wogan, Rickman, Hambridge…….Obviously for most of you, the first three may ring a bell, for me the fourth was the toughest to swallow.

Jenny Hambridge, or more familiarly just ‘Jen’ – but never anything less than ‘Auntie Jen’ for me. The stylish, well dressed, good looking Aunt that you always wanted.  Rarely a frown on her face, always a smile for me when I walked through her door, I suspect that everyone felt like they were Auntie Jens favourite, such was her warmth and enthusiasm.

In the 70’s and early 80’s a social diva, in fact it is fair to say the couple that were Auntie and Uncle were both of the same ilk.  Hard working social magnates, stylish jet setters, disco dancers and the one lady responsible for every bottle of Holsten Pils I have ever drank.

Damn it, I can’t remember if my first ever game of skittles was with Auntie Jen or Grandma – it was probably both, most likely in the Abbey St Club.  Live music in the Radea Club with all the family. Bedworth Social Club with bands playing Rod Stewart and Creedence Clearwater covers, bingo nights in the Brownsover Social Club, sandwiched between Mum & Auntie Jen.  Shopping in Northampton, riding in a big blue SD1, mirrored aviator sunglasses two sizes too big, balancing on my little nose.

Early morning trips to an emerging Luton Airport as the pair globe trotted across Europe in an age when it was the new thing to do, amazed at the foreign goods that would return with them, but not fully understanding what a red and green channel was about.

From Howkins Road there was usually the sound of music at weekends, Fleetwood Mac, Bread and Abba although the real groovers were most likely moving to Abba or Fleetwood. Truth be told, my first nightclub experience in Hinkley as a school boy, Auntie Jen was there.

Always interested in where I was, what I was doing, how my love life was, how happy I was.  Sometimes telling me stories more than once would earn her a rather cheeky ‘You’ve told me that already’ but as she got wise to me, she would start off with a ‘Have I told you this already?’ always with a quizzical but cheeky wry smile.

In January, the book turned another page and the chapter closed.   A cruel cancer put an end to that, while there was still  ample space for more pages.  The cold harsh truth about death is that life goes on.  People continue with their lives  seemingly unaware that your world has fallen apart, unlikely to have any clue about the pain of people left to cope with the new chapter that has been thrust upon them.  Few of us can even comprehend the feeling that comes with loosing a buddy, wife, friend, lover, partner in crime, business partner.  Especially one of 50 years or more.

For me, the simplest thing I will miss.  Walking in that door, seeing a sparkle in her eye as she very spritely walks her walk to greet me half way across the kitchen, cupping my cheeks, one in each hand and holding them firmly as she plants a kiss straight on my lips.  There was no dodging to the side for a quick one on the cheek – you got it on the lips and that was that!!!

To see if you have left a good mark on this earth you really need to count the mourners at your funeral.  It’s always a comfort to have a full house.

Stay Glam ..

 

With every death comes a stark reminder to live life.  Make of it what you will but make something.  One thing I have been wanting to do for a few months now was to make a ‘cover’ of a recent TV advert in the UK, by a very well known holiday company. Well, last weekend, I finally did it, spurred on by recent events.  It might seem a little inappropriate to post it on the same page – indeed it was something I have debated all week as I have tried in vain to get the video to upload.  Tonight, it finally worked, so please turn up your volume feel free to join in.  The original is 2 posts further down the page so you can see where I got my inspiration from.  I will also post it over in the video section for you to find whenever you see fit


Una Paloma Blanca !

If there are a few things I have learned in my near on 45 years on this planet, Algebra, Trigonometry and Transposition of Formulas are not three of them – although I will be attempting to learn those again early next year.

No, but I have learned a few things, specifically this week, I have been learning about Gym things – let me share them with you.

1. Why do people drive to the gym to then use a running machine?  How about you run to the gym, don’t go in, turn around and run home.  Saving yourself the gym membership and the cost of fuel in your 5.0 ltr V8 monster truck and getting a run out in the real world!

2. Better still, why the hell would you go to the Gym to use a step machine?  How about you head to the pikey flats around the corner and climb the stairs to the top (guaranteed the lift will be out-of-order or at least stinking of piss so much you wont want to use it).  If you really want to hot things up, you can knock on the drug dealers door and tell him you are selling on his patch, then see who can make it to the 12th floor first.

3.  The Gym is not a social club – Social Clubs are for socialising so go there instead.  There is nothing worse than watching a 50 something man, cheesing all over the women in the gym, leave them alone !  One guy at my gym, gets off his machine and gets onto the one next to the chicks and then constantly talks to them, worse still, he talks across the gym to them too, so I have to hear it over my headphones.

4.  If you are one of those women that likes the attention of the cheesing saddo’s mentioned above – please bear in mind that if you put as much effort into your workout as you do talking to the Cheese Meister – your arse would be half the size it actually is.  With a smaller, lighter arse, your big 5.0 ltr V8 monster truck won’t use quite so much fuel and you will be more attractive to less cheesier options.

5. Lastly but by no means least – NEVER FART IN THE GYM.  People are breathing hard, the last thing I need is to have to chew the eggy air around me after someone has dropped their guts in front of the vent for the air conditioning. What is wrong with you fucktards ?

 

There, moan over.  I got my first puncture on my new bike this weekend.  Quite a hefty one too

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And if that wasn’t enough for me, I also found some Chimay Blue for my troubles

 

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Now all said and done – the beer went down well with a Pizza – and me still weighing in at a pokey 88kgs !!  I am still left wondering how I managed to pick up suck a big nail on a bike tyre (sorry ‘tire’ for any yanks reading) but as a kid, I could always find punctures too – thankfully I was taught well on how to fix them.

Boulder, Colorado is drawing closer although I saw on the news today in the Gym while rowing hard and chewing eggy air that there was heavy snow on the mountains.  We have a saying on boats – there is no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes.  Well, I have one lightweight army jacket with me and 4 T-shirts (5 if you include the FHRITP.com) so I might struggle a bit.

There, I think I am done for the evening, just want to leave you with a footnote.  In the 70’s when I hit the social club scene pretty hard with the parents, there was a song that everyone sang. Una Paloma Blanca. Turns out Paloma is spanish for Pidgeon, all this time they were singing about a white Pidgeon and I bet no-one knew.  If you need help remembering the song, check out the link below, turn up the volume, roll down your flares and file me under groovey.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQK9k42ongU

Ah, rocking the Bedworth Working Mens Club, Radae Club, Roots at Ryton – man alive they were the days – Brownsover Social Club