Memory Lane

[Xann]

A lot of these clubs are still around, though often not based at the venues where they made their names. 

Also, having listened to a shed load of 2019's tunes, the 90s revival is on  

It's getting the old crowd together that's problematical.

[bickster]

5 hours ago, Xela said:

Cream at Nation

Bugs the shit out of me, the mere mention of the Cream bellends. We put that club on the map not them, We were in there filling the place to 3000 (thats 2000 if the council are watching) every Monday night, At least 6 months before they arrived on the scene and even then they only started in the annex and I was running a night in the main room (a shit night admittedly)

[bannedfromHandV]

On 27/12/2019 at 19:50, Xela said:

Been a bit melancholy the last week or so. Nothing major, just thinking back to when I was younger and reminiscing about the good times I had in my late teens and early twenties. Maybe its a delayed reaction to hitting 40! Who knows! 

Thinking about heavy nights out we use to have at Godskitchen, Sundissential, and the more cheesy places like Snobs and The Dome II. Great venues like Code, Sanctuary, Bonds and Que Club. Good times! I don't think that era for proper clubbing will ever be beaten. Been watching all the old videos on Youtube and listening to the compilation mixes. 

I wonder what the scene is like these days, I still have one or two in my social spheres who go to warehouse project etc but I can’t imagine it’s anything like the hedonistic days of the late 90’s and early 00’s (and yes, I know it was even more so during the early 90’s but I was far too young then).

For 3-4 years clubbing was my life, we’d follow DJ’s and events around the country, did Creamfields, Mezzanine Mayday, Gatecrasher in the NEC twice, Ibiza twice, Leeds love parade and a few others I can’t even remember. 
 

But whilst the music was great and the clubs/events were awesome the overriding great thing then was the community feel - yep, totally spurred on by an excess of ecstasy, mdma, acid etc but still, I never went out fearing for my safety, never once even came close to getting into a fight.

Contrast that with today and I worry about getting knifed for no reason just popping down the local for a quiet jar, such a difference in mindset and culture.

On a slightly different note - Its funny really because the default opinion on drugs is that they’re inherently evil and can only destroy lives, I was on a bad path after leaving school, had zero ambition, very narrow minded and hanging around with some real wrong uns on the estate I lived in, my mind opened up though so much after the first time I did ecstasy and these days I’m relatively successful, live in a decent area in a decent house, drive a decent car, I honestly don’t think any of that would have been possible if I’d not discovered that scene and all that went with it when I did.

Funny how life works out.

[PussEKatt]

I remember as a kid, me and about 8 of my mates would gather outside the newsagents at 4pm every thursday to get "Roy of the Rovers" as soon as it came in.Then we would all sit outside the shop and read about Roy and Billy Bunter and Billys Boots etc etc etc

I also fondly remember lying on garage/shed roofs and talking with 4/5 friends.Thats what you did then. 

[Seat68]

41 minutes ago, PussEKatt said:

I remember as a kid, me and about 8 of my mates would gather outside the newsagents at 4pm every thursday to get "Roy of the Rovers" as soon as it came in.Then we would all sit outside the shop and read about Roy and Billy Bunter and Billys Boots etc etc etc

I also fondly remember lying on garage/shed roofs and talking with 4/5 friends.Thats what you did then. 

A friend of mines father used to draw for Roy of the Rovers.

[maqroll]

When I was 10 I had a beer bottle cap collection. I'd collect them at the playground near my house. I was sorting through the collection one night at the dinner table when I heard my dog let out a cry as my drunk cab driving neighbor ran her over and killed her. Me and my mother ran out to her and I asked my mother if she'd be ok and my mom just sobbed and sobbed.

[maqroll]

It was at the same dinner table a year later when my father announced to me and my older sister that he and my mother were divorcing.  I started to laugh thinking it was a joke. But then I looked at my mother who burst into tears.

[maqroll]

My dad moved out a few months later. Me and my sister would wait at that dinner table every Sunday night for his weekly scheduled visit. Sometimes we'd just wait and wait and he wouldn't show up at all.

[maqroll]

My mother started seeing this guy not long after. His name was John Smith.  He had curly brown hair and a beard. A tall, lanky guy who had a pronounced underbite and  a disposition to Southern Comfort.  If I  was a few years older I wouldn't have made life easy for him. But I was 12 years old and weak and naive. He moved in with us for about two years. I'd see him in the kitchen in the morning in just his underwear. Just thinking about it makes me homicidal.

[maqroll]

When I was 11, this Venezuelan kid moved to my town and went to my school. Handsome kid who was really good at baseball. We had different classrooms and we were enemies at first. Posturing kids.  We became good friends in no time. He moved back to Venezuela a year later in 1983. I wonder how he is doing if he's still there.

[maqroll]

We lived at the top a hill that had a view of a meadow about a mile away. The old Boston-Maine railway cut right through it. The kids who lived in that area were tough and would act crazy. They would set fire to the meadow in dry conditions. We would watch from our window when it went up in flames, lighting up the night sky.

[maqroll]

The playground near my house was epic. It was surrounded by tall trees and at the back of it was a little basketball court with low rims. If you were at least 5'9" you could dunk. Typical municipal situation with nets quickly stolen leaving just the metal rims. There was this older kid (18-ish) who would draw cartoons on the backboards. Actual stories. The DPW would paint over them. I was offered mescaline there once. Peyote. I must have been about 8. There was a swampy pond behind the basketball court. Beyond that there was just trees until you reached the highway. There was a dead dog that was next to a fallen tree. Every now and then I'd go look at how much more rotten it got. I bet the bones are still there. 

Edited December 31, 2019 by maqroll

[PussEKatt]

On 30/12/2019 at 23:39, Seat68 said:

A friend of mines father used to draw for Roy of the Rovers.

Well that nicely shows my age

[Xela]

Did anyone used to have the Fighting Fantasy role playing books? My Dad has found all my old ones in the family lock-up! Used to love them. The one pictured was the first one I got... although I soon had about 25 of them! 

[TheAuthority]

Just now, Xela said:

Did anyone used to have the Fighting Fantasy role playing books? My Dad has found all my old ones in the family lock-up! Used to love them. The one pictured was the first one I got... although I soon had about 25 of them! 

That damn 'Maze of Zagor' in the 1st book, The Warlock of Firetop Mountain, took me ages.

Loved D&D and FF..

[maqroll]

I have an adopted cousin who is black. We grew up together as little kids. One summer there were these boys visiting our area from Virginia. They were our age (8 or 9). The older boy called my cousin a "n****r" and we started to chase them but they were getting away. I picked up a fallen apple and chucked it right at them from about 50 yards and it hit one of them right in the head and knocked him down. I told my cousin he should have called them "honky". He said two wrongs don't make a right.

[maqroll]

Me and my adopted cousin were as thick as thieves one particular summer up on the mid coast of Maine where we have a lot of family. We were about 12 or 13.  Around 1984. We'd steal cigarettes from adults and try to act tough by smoking them. We hunted crabs down on a local rock covered beach. The bigger the better but they were harder to find. There were these rocks and ledges that were covered in seaweed. We'd go out there at low tide. One of us would lift up the sheets of seaweed while the other looked underneath into the crevasses for the crabs. We'd grab the big scary ones. It was a lot of fun. We always let them go. Except this one day. We captured a big one and brought him home with us. We had some firecrackers. I took one of the firecrackers and caved the crab's face in with it and then set the thing on fire. It exploded and crab guts went everywhere. We went back to the beach and found another one. We had found a syringe washed up on the beach so we took the syringe and the crab back up to the house. We filled the syringe full of rubbing alcohol and injected it directly into the crab's face. We watched it squirm for a few seconds before stepping on it and splattering it's guts everywhere. I am deeply ashamed of this to this very day.

[maqroll]

I know I'm laying it on kind of thick with these anecdotes but this is a cool, way for me to get some of this down.

[Rugeley Villa]

@maqroll  we’ve all done things we regret.  

 

End of an era tomorrow. My grandad moves out of his home of 50+ years. The home will be put up for sale to help fund his care. Had some great memories there and it’s mad how much the street has changed in terms of people moving out/in. I guess that’s life though. Spent my childhood and a few years of my adult life there. I will admit it’s not been the same place since my gran died 9-10 year ago, but it holds some very found memories. Another chapter closed. 

Edited February 2, 2020 by Rugeley Villa

[maqroll]

43 minutes ago, Rugeley Villa said:

@maqroll  we’ve all done things we regret.  

 

An an of an era tomorrow. My grandad moves out of his home of 50+ years. The home will be put up for sale to help fund his care. Had some great memories there and it’s mad how much the street has changed in terms of people moving out/in. I guess that’s life though. Spent my childhood and a few years of my adult life there. I will admit it’s not been the same place since my gran died 9-10 year ago, but it holds some very found memories. Another chapter closed. 

Time and change is a perpetual tsunami.