Strawberry Fields

John Martyn - a life lived...


Listening to a rather fine album of Beatles' covers by the inestimable Al DiMeola, as recommended by the Brummie/Welsh contingent in Spain - Mr. JGJ - I'm minded of the inspiration behind so many of the Beatles tunes; in this particular instance, Strawberry Fields. Childhood. Adolescence. Redolence of plucked grass stalks chewed and country meadows explored. Of bombsites in ruined Smethwick streets, the Cut, the Feeder, The Soho Loop, The Soap Hole; of parks and bandstands and bike rides. Black Patch Park, Warley Woods, Summerfield and latterly, lazy adolescent days spent smoking and talking when and wherever we found ourselves. The invincible years of youth.
    We were riffing on the selfie-generation earlier. One night a couple of years ago, we were taking a drink in a bar in Bangor; nice trendy kind of place, not an eatery or an old-fashioned pub (not that you can find one of those any more,) but a modern bar. On the table next to us were four young women: decorated, shall we say, in the modern style. That's to say, made up in a way not seen since TV makeup in the 1950's - camera-ready for best photo-(Sh)op impact. Or in real life - just weird. Full pancake foundation, Groucho eyebrows, the whole nine yards. All they did in the short time they were there was take posed selfies of themselves. No conversation, no banter, no fun. Just sending out a digitally-mediated illusion of life. To countless others engaged likewise.
    We figured that's why we (working-class boomers) are the most under-photographed generation (as teenagers/young adults) in modern times. We were simply too hell-bent on having a good time to even consider recording what we were up to. Says a lot to me about where we are as a society. Too much introspection makes Janet & John dull children. Don't live vicariously.

Comments

  1. I absolutely agree about the selfie generation Kel, but it would have been nice to have a few more photographic mementos of our youth wouldn't it? There are almost none of us all together. I take photos for all sorts of reasons, but one of the main ones is so that I 've got a tangible record of the good times. I have also kept a written diary/journal, of sorts, (since 1992!!!) for the same reason. Memories are great, but a bit ephemeral. I made it a habit to take at least one photo a day way before the selfie generation and digital cameras and www. Time, memory, mortality - a photo is about the best way to transcend that in my view. You are dead right though. Hundreds of crap snapshots of pancaked young women with those eyebrows that look like bits of insulating tape stuck on their forehead is rather sad.

    Trust AOK with you all. Keep safe.

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    Replies
    1. At least we * lived* our youth! I agree that as you get older, some tangible view of that youth to look back on would be great (considering how good looking we all were! :0)
      Since we’ve lived in North Wales - 40 years, mon brave! - there are probably thousands of photographs chronicling our lives here. I’m kind of hoping I can keep up the discipline of the blog, because all my life I’ve wanted to keep a diary/journal and literally succeeded only for one year of adolescence (first love!), and with the sole exception of the day James was born, when I wrote a single entry for August 27 1991and that was it. But this curious situation has motivated me to do something I normally couldn’t be arsed to do without a deadline to focus my attention (story of my life): Write. Daily.

      I have been a self-professed Zen Buddhist (Winson Green Sect) all my adult life and it has stood me in very good stead - particularly now. We are safe & well, as is James and his husband, Leo…

      Love to you, Wend & I trust Jack is doing well…
      K xx

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