Old Chestnuts

It occurs to me that we are only about a couple or three weeks away from conker season. I used to like conker season when I was a kid, though I never managed to create a killer conker like some of my friends claimed to have done. That didn’t stop me from lovingly marinating them in vinegar for a few days, or trying to persuade Mum to let me bake one to concrete-like hardness (preferably a pre-soaked jobbie). To the best of my recollection she never did let me bake a conker and I never did develop a super conker which would conquer all-comers for years to come before retiring to the honoured spot in the bottom of a satchel, covered in fluff, shell-less and dry shrivelled in all its glory¹.

We had a conker tree on the school grounds, just behind the science block, as I recall. We were allowed to pick up fallen conkers but not to ‘encourage’ them to fall. That didn’t stop us. Generations of schoolboys had developed a stooge system worthy of Colditz to warn of advancing school masters. I do not recall it failing in my time at least. Prefects were more of a problem, but were generally spottable in their black blazers (the hoi-polloi all wore maroon blazers) ². This meant that we could hoof half end bricks up the tree with relative impunity, though the occasional fallen branch caused some concern.

I think the highlight must have been when a chap in my form, one David ”Arfa” Beynon, discovered a rusty gate hinge and threw that up the tree. It never came back down and for weeks we pondered nervously in the anticipation of it falling on and braining some passer by.

I don’t think it ever did; it may still be up there for all I know.

Do kids still play conkers, or is it all illegal drug taking and vandalism these days?

¹You know, that looks far ruder in writing than it did while I was just thinking it. binidj will have an embolism.

²Except for Jan Mateki (sp) in the Autumn term of 1973, whose blazer sported a bright green sleeve for about four months until it disintegrated, but that’s another story.

Old Chestnuts

It occurs to me that we are only about a couple or three weeks away from conker season. I used to like conker season when I was a kid, though I never managed to create a killer conker like some of my friends claimed to have done. That didn’t stop me from lovingly marinating them in vinegar for a few days, or trying to persuade Mum to let me bake one to concrete-like hardness (preferably a pre-soaked jobbie). To the best of my recollection she never did let me bake a conker and I never did develop a super conker which would conquer all-comers for years to come before retiring to the honoured spot in the bottom of a satchel, covered in fluff, shell-less and dry shrivelled in all its glory¹.

We had a conker tree on the school grounds, just behind the science block, as I recall. We were allowed to pick up fallen conkers but not to ‘encourage’ them to fall. That didn’t stop us. Generations of schoolboys had developed a stooge system worthy of Colditz to warn of advancing school masters. I do not recall it failing in my time at least. Prefects were more of a problem, but were generally spottable in their black blazers (the hoi-polloi all wore maroon blazers) ². This meant that we could hoof half end bricks up the tree with relative impunity, though the occasional fallen branch caused some concern.

I think the highlight must have been when a chap in my form, one David ”Arfa” Beynon, discovered a rusty gate hinge and threw that up the tree. It never came back down and for weeks we pondered nervously in the anticipation of it falling on and braining some passer by.

I don’t think it ever did; it may still be up there for all I know.

Do kids still play conkers, or is it all illegal drug taking and vandalism these days?

¹You know, that looks far ruder in writing than it did while I was just thinking it. binidj will have an embolism.

²Except for Jan Mateki (sp) in the Autumn term of 1973, whose blazer sported a bright green sleeve for about four months until it disintegrated, but that’s another story.

Born to be tired

A propos nothing, I have decided that just lolling around half awake, listening to the magnificent Steppenwolf is one of the best things I have done recently left to my own devices. They are fantastic and to think I knew little about their music before buying this CD on spec.

Last night I reacquainted myself with the late great Janis Joplin. Why, oh why did I leave it so long to pick up that album? Such talent, such waste. Raw, ragged vocals, strained by smoking and Southern Comfort.

Raw emotion.

And on to the Velvet Underground next...

Shiny, shiny. Shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girl-child in the dark
Clubs and bells, your servant, don't forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

I say...

Born to be tired

A propos nothing, I have decided that just lolling around half awake, listening to the magnificent Steppenwolf is one of the best things I have done recently left to my own devices. They are fantastic and to think I knew little about their music before buying this CD on spec.

Last night I reacquainted myself with the late great Janis Joplin. Why, oh why did I leave it so long to pick up that album? Such talent, such waste. Raw, ragged vocals, strained by smoking and Southern Comfort.

Raw emotion.

And on to the Velvet Underground next...

Shiny, shiny. Shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girl-child in the dark
Clubs and bells, your servant, don't forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

I say...