That "J" Word (Pt4)

"Dad! Stop!! The rag's fallen off!"

As would become apparent in later years, my fascination with the internal combustion engine, and the vehicles with which it powered would become something of an obsession (almost!) I guess looking back. I was an odd child. I have clear and vivid memories of pulling into a petrol filling station sitting in the back of my Dads car. I would wind the window down (none of the modern electric windows back in the 70s!).

I would wind the window down. Why? Because I felt car sick, and needed to take a lungful of fresh air to ease the queasiness I felt? Because I was too hot? No. I wound down my window to take a big sniff of the petroleum fume filled air! I absolutely loved the smell of petrol fumes as a child, and I have to say, even now as an adult. I don’t find the smell unpleasant. Maybe not as “wonderful” as I once did, but the smell doesn’t cause me any displeasure. I would do the same thing whenever we had to stop for roadworks. The window would be wound down. My head would pop out, and I would take a big sniff of the air! Seeing a group of workmen laying fresh new tarmac on the road filled me with joy! To me it meant only one thing. The glorious smell of freshly cooking and burning tar! Goodness only knows what my parents thought of this!

Image Courtesy of Pinterest.

I can only imagine their disappointment, their quizzical glances at one another whilst internally questioning where they went wrong in their attempts to raise a well balanced child! This questioning process would have been further strengthened by the fact that I can pretty much guarantee my elder brother, no doubt sitting next to me on the back seat would have been looking at me with distain. Or more likely, have his head in a book. I would say that my older brother was by far the less adventurous of us both. Or you could argue, the more sensible!

As an analogy, I would volunteer to be the canary in the mineshaft, he would be the owner of the mining company!

I would be the one who, when we were out as a family would go off exploring. There are many parts of my childhood that have been lost forever in the depths of time and a trauma ridden mind. I would imagine you could play them to me on a big screen. It would be as if I was watching them for the first time. Yet, there are certain aspects which for one reason or another. Little snippets remain. I think with some memories, I have to fill in the blanks here and there with embellishment and artistic licence. Others are as clear as arctic ice meltwater droplets caught in the sunlight.

We were on a beach. I remember that much. It was a warm sunny day. The sky was blue, and there were lots of people around. The beach was packed. I can only imagine it was during the school holidays. We were either out on a day trip, or on holiday somewhere? I know we used to go to Cornwall and Devon. I suppose the location is irrelevant? I am desperately trying to remember now. But there is nothing. The room in my memory bank housing that particular memory has long been abandoned.

Image Courtesy of Newyorker.com

I do remember however, there being a cliff face. The beach sand went right to the foot of the rocks. I think I must have become bored of making sandcastles with my brother, or paddling in the sea. Bored of sitting on the picnic blanket that undoubtedly my mother would have brought with us to sit on whilst at the beach. I guess in my young mind, the rock face was a challenge. A challenge to be conquered and overcome! I do have vague recollections of an ice cream cone being stuck to the end of my nose too! This is where the memory gets a bit hazy, and possibly recalled from being told later on in life. Yet, I think I attempted to climb the rock face whilst holding onto my ice cream.

I can only imagine, being the fidgety child that I was, with an attention span of speed ridden moth; being able to just sit still and finish my ice cream was clearly not an option!

So, what do I do? I decide the best thing to do, to no doubt appease my firecracker brain.. go climbing. Whilst holding an ice cream. I mean, why the heck not?

I can just imagine my tiny little mind working on overtime. Those poor little stressed neurons bursting and fizzing. Desperately trying to workout how I am going to climb the rockface, whilst simultaneously attempting to consume an ice cream? Me looking down assessing the situation (actually, I very much doubt any assessing took place) but for the sake of the story, let’s assume it did.

South Milton Sands Nr Salcombe Devon

Looking down at my skinny little white legs. Looking at my shorts, thinking, “Hmm? I haven’t got any pockets”. “What am I going to do with my ice cream?”

“I don’t want to eat it all in one go” “I’ll get brain freeze!” (I very much doubt I thought the latter!)

“I know, I’ll stick it on the end of my nose!”

And so the climb ensued. With an ice cream stuffed on the end of my nose so as to free both of my hands! I do believe I got stuck on the climb. The ice cream fell off, and my Dad had to come and rescue me!

My Dad rescued me quite a lot from the scrapes I had gotten myself into! Usually when I had climbed up trees and couldn’t get down again.

Like most little boys I guess, my Dad was my hero. He still is. We are very close, and get on very well. He has always listened, and our relationship over the years has only grown stronger. Although we live many miles apart, and have done for many years now, we talk on the phone every week. He is in his early 80s now. He is bright as a button and full of life. If not a bit deaf. But that is only because he is a stubborn old thing and refuses to buy a hearing aid! But that’s OK. It’s part of what makes him my Dad. He never judges me, he has seen me make mistakes throughout my life, and boy have there been some mistakes. But his love for me, or my brother has never waned.

I remember as a very young boy, wanting to be with him. Wherever. If he was in the garden, or working on the car. I wanted to be with him. And if he was going out in the car, I had to be with him! I remember he had a massive car. It was a Vauxhall estate (station wagon) type car. I think it was the Vauxhall Victor.

Image Courtesy of Flickr.com

To me, as 5 or 6 year old child, this car was a behemoth! It was huge! Absolutely massive! I do remember it being a lovely warm and sunny day. Maybe it was during the summer of 76? Surely not? I would have only been 3 and the memory of this is quite clear? Anyway. Regardless, I do remember the boot (trunk) door being open. I can only imagine the drag this would have caused! The car would have been slow enough already with the boot being open. Yet, it had to be open because sticking out of the back was a ladder. I think my Dad had borrowed a ladder from someone, and we were on our way back home. The ladder must have been protruding by some distance from the back of the car, as my Dad had tied a rag to the end of the ladder.

I can only assume to warn other motorists of their impending doom, had they failed of course to notice the protruding ladder before impaling themselves! I remember thinking what great fun this was. Driving on the road with the boot open! I think I also felt quite important too. Dad had given me a job to do!

I was on rag watch duty! He had entrusted me with the extremely important task of keeping an eye on the rag attached to the ladder. I had to watch it at all times, and not for one second take my eyes off it. I did not! I took these instructions extremely seriously. I would imagine as the youngest sibling, being given this responsibility felt wonderful. I can’t even recollect if my brother was in the car with us. I don’t think he was. Anyhow, I had watched it mile after mile, flapping and dancing in the wind. This way, and then that. Twanging and banging against the metal of the ladder like the rigging of a yacht on a windy day.

And then, the rag’s bid for freedom!

Up into the air, twisting in the invisible vortex of air behind the car. Swirling and dancing before softly parachuting to the ground. Coming to rest in the middle of the road.

"Dad! Stop!! The rag's fallen off!"

Thank you so much for reading. I do hope you have enjoyed travelling back in time with me.

Much love

Dom G