The Last Stand

-

 

Like Custer's Last Stand or The Alamo or some such probably ill-advised allusion; pictured are indeed the last combatants in the Winson Street saga, back in 1978. Left to right: Jane, Sheila, Pete, Johnny Kyte [blog posts passim], my mom, your humble narrator, my uncle Edgar, and my sister, Karen, leaning on the family ride, dad's (he's obviously behind the camera) Austin 1300. This jovial gathering turned into a monumental piss-up, fuelled by the then current favourite: malt liquor: Colt 45 and Breaker, resulting in some very sore heads on the morrow. But it was an appropriate sign-off for the old place...

Comments

  1. Anonymous22 March 2023 at 12:45

    Kel,
    What an absolutely stunning photograph. Wend pointed out another Winson Green photo on Jane's Facebook feed yesterday, which is equally fine. Poignant to see JGK when his mobility was still reasonably good and he could get around. Bittersweet I know, but this is exactly how I like to remember him. Flares and a can of Colt 45 (or Breaker) - what a combination!! Karen looking particularly fabulous and 1970 ish. It looks as though there is one house standing just past No 16 and then the rest flattened. Was this the case? If so, I guess your Mom & Dad were literally amongst the last to leave the street. Always had a very soft spot for Number 16 as you know. Part of mine, and many others, formative years.

    Young Turks indeed..........

    Trust All Very Well,

    Phil.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Of Feedback & Wobbles

-
Image
Many years ago I came up with an analogy for poorly damped feedback loops. The feedback loop that prompted this frankly tart analogy was indeed a horror. Anyone who remembers shame-faced their first attempts at clutch control resulting in the good old kangaroo launch across the lights only to stall in the middle of the crossroads will have some idea of the kind of data transfer lag involved in said system. The analogy I made was that of a large blancmange. Untouched, a model of stasis and eminently stable and predictable; but prod the bugger and the resultant chaotic behaviour needs a very complex physical model and some very decent computing horsepower to predict its outputs, if at all. The system in question was a large and complex audio-visual display at what eventually became 'The Electric Mountain' in Llanberis. We were ultimately contracted to maintain the thing having been witness to and peripherally involved in its installation. Certainly not involved in its des
Read more

Sister Ray

-
Image
Ray Keats - aka Ann Key - local artist & family friend, died this morning. She'd been ill for some years, but never let it get in the way of her work or of tending to the massive network of friends, colleagues and fans she had accumulated over the decades. Her house on the High Street of Rachub, just below where we live - a former cockle factory(!) - bought many years ago when she and her late husband Ronald moved here from Manchester to set up home in Yr Achub, is currently still home to her paintings and drawings, and the front window displays her work, including the last drawing she made in hospital, just days before she died. Her good friend Colin has been a diamond in her latter years, looking out for her and just being there when she needed him. She will be much missed by this tiny community of ageing bohemians up here in the hills, but suffice it to say, George, her cat, will be well looked after now she's gone.
Read more

A Time of Connection

-
Image
I was just reflecting on the vacuum of continuity that's left behind when someone dies: that sudden sense of disjoint, of fracture, in one's personal history that takes one completely by surprise at the oddest moments. These pinch-points in memory can often yield some surprising revelations of fact about periods in one's past. One such occurred to me tonight, tending my rather lazy meal of pizza in its journey from shrink-wrap to mouth via the oven. Al's recent demise still catches me out from time to time: the space he left bounded by forty plus years of friendship. But the thing that struck me tonight was just how much change was happening on a personal and social level in the very early years of our acquaintance. Between moving here from Birmingham in September 1980 and our buying our first proper house eighteen months later, all manner of things occurred that would chart the course of our lives to the present day. At around the time of our meeting Alan & Irene [
Read more