Thursday, August 25, 2011
1979: Although nothing seems right
On the way back from the beach, we'd popped in on Great Auntie Beryl and Great Uncle Alec in Christchurch. I'd only seen them once before at their daughter's wedding in 1973, the first wedding I went to and the last one until 1988 (Since then I've been to at least one a year). And I never saw them again.
But what really sticks in my mind is that on this Bank Holiday Monday, we heard the news on the way home that Lord Mountbatten had died. Mum remarked that these types of tragedies always happened on bank holidays. I begged to differ then as I do now - I can't think of anything else of that magnitude that happened over a bank holiday. Can you?
My mind was elsewhere, however, because the very next day it was back to school. Such an abrupt end to a very long summer holiday. You try really hard not to let those back to school displays in shop windows get you down but it's always at the back of your mind. Mrs P and I noticed a large poster advertaising the Oxford intrument box in WH Smith's window in Jersey at the weekend, and we both shuddered. That hateful triumvirate of protractor, set square and compass - they still fill me with dread. I still couldn't tell you how to use a protractor and thankfully I'll never need to know.
I wasn't much looking forward to going back to school. Everything was changing. I was 15, it was the final O level year, friends were shifting about, joining other groups, Two-Tone was in full swing and I desperately needed the fashions, there were rumblings we were moving abroad and I generally felt rather unsettled. Where was I going with my life? I really didn't want to think about it.
So here's a back to school song for you if ever there was one.