Well looking back to that lad that sat in the junior science lab in January 79 wondering if the heating would come on, a little scared that the latest prediction of the worlds end was but hours away and it was Chicken Supreme for tea!! Looking back I remember my aspirations.
I wanted to live long enough to ride a bike, drive a car and have sex with a girl.
Everything else would be a bonus. I wanted to be a dad but did not believe I would be. I would feel lucky if I lived until I was thirty. I was thick and stupid because Mrs Forster at Great Moor Junior School and Stephen Flegg maths teacher at Stockport School (Mile End) had kept telling me so. Stephen also decided it would be fun to get some other boys such as the weasel like Simon Hill and pals to bully me. Praising and rewarding their vindictive atrocities with open acknowledgement in the classroom.
I had no idea as to what my life had in store. I was outside of school an explorer, leader of my gang, well jointly at least with Wendy Hildrew and her sister Gillian. Two of my closest and most under valued childhood friends.
I wish I had then the understanding of the world I have now. I wish I knew that girls were really the same as boys, same insecurity but just different hang ups. That teachers were not gods or many not even wise. In fact some such as messrs Flegg and Forster were teachers because they liked remaining playground bullies into adult hood and would not function anywhere else in society.
I am happy to name these vile excuses for educators on the off chance if the still cling to their putrid abusing existence they may read this and either understand their epitaph is one of contempt or even better attempt to sue me in the courts. A challenge I would dearly love.
I sort of planned to be a daring soldier, hero, and cohort of kings, my experiences and choices led down a different path. I did fight but not armies. I fought abuse, injustice, poverty, hatred, discrimination and despair. I started in the forces of the Establishment, the local and at times central government departments.
Now I tend to see these organisations as part of the problem. Their bureaucracy tending to extend hardship, restrict movement and stamp on motivation.
Now however I am restricted by health, mobility and funds. I fight my fight rarely on a face to face field of battle. My weapons now my words alone.
This is maybe always was where my destiny brought me. With my illness’ I cannot look back and think ‘what if’ for these conditions would likely have snook up on me whatever choices I made, whichever paths I travelled.
Regrets? …. too many to contemplate without a loss of whatever grip I have on sanity.
Future? ….. unwritten. I have to keep telling myself that.
Next?…… who knows


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Jonesy the Dog of Socialism

I am in my 50's (ok 51), I have life challenges but still continue to be a father, a biker, a socialist and a human being. I fight hate and injustice in any way I can. I am me.

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