Why Are The Seventies So Special? happy times and great memories.

It was my bro Mike who first got me enthusiastic about pop music. He used to buy his singles on a saturday morning and I'd wait for him to come home to play them on our tiny case record player. I'll always remember his wise words when i told him I thought Steve Harley was rubbish as he couldn't sing. He told me 'nothing is rubbish if someone likes it'. From then on I listened to music in a complete different way.

Friends came and went, Steve Fordham was my right hand man in many of our escapades some of which i can't talk about till the statute of restrictions runs out. We might fish down Tottenham Locks and go adventuring together though I don't understand why we probably did get on because he used to enjoy me being in discomfort particularly the time when we were given caught scrumping in somebody's garden and a dog was put on us. Steve flew over the wall but I struggled being a little bit smaller.

I was there, trying to pull myself up over the wall with a dog hanging on my trouser leg. I believe Steve could have been close to wetting himself that day.
We had joy we had fun we had seasons in the sunshine although it was a sad day when he moved up to Burnley and my dad would not even let me have a sleepover for his yesterday.

Life was good for several years till my father met someone and got remarried.
With her came 3 more boys. Can you imagine it ? 6 boys in one house.
So goodbye Leyton, hello Stratford.

The worse thing about this move was I had to share a room with her youngest and he was a scattering with a very fast fiery temper. I can remember coming back home and finding all my stuff thrown out the window and laying in the back garden with my valued furry bear impaled on the garden fence.
These were hard times for me and my siblings as she dominated the roost and the stereotypical step-mother held court.

Things weren't all bad though. We generally got on with the siblings Steve, Graham and Colin, the youngest, but the bonus was the friendship of Gary the kid from next door.

Out of all of the years living there the best year must be 1976.
It was actually the year when the sun did not stop shining all summer and the vacation we had down in Looe, Cornwall was the best holiday I had ever had. Cornish Pasties were the food of the god's and sweetest love flowered. Everything was just going great. Gary and me spent all summer catching the 69 bus to Beckton lido with our crew playing about in the pool, and to cap it all I'd ultimately managed to get back in communication with my old pal Steve and arranged a trip up to Burnley for Xmas.

It got so exciting and new traveling up there on the nation's coach as I'd never been away from home on my own before. When I arrived Steve was there waiting for me and the welcome I got from his mummy and family just about made me cry.

We partied all over the place and that was like being a celebrity. The girls would continuously ask me to assert different words in my cockney accent,. You didn't hear me griping. I remember one party in particular because they stopped it to look at Starsky and Hutch!

The Yuletide week finished at the Cat's whiskers for New Years Eve and we danced all night to the likes of Rose Royce, Leo Sayer and Candi Staton finishing the evening off with John Christie's Here's to love.

it was a great end to potentially the best year of my life.

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