RIP D OF E, BUT WHAT'S IT GOT TO DO WITH ME? PART TWO

Hey there! Regular Functionistas will know that I don’t really make an effort to maintain relationships. My life can be pretty much divided into a series of chapters, and as I move from one stage to the next I pretty much refrain from looking back. I don’t know what happened to anyone I talk about in today’s post after I turned nineteen; I saw some of the guys at a house party/sleepover thrown by another friend during the holidays of my first year of university. I hope they’re all doing well and that life hasn’t been too hard on them.

That being said, after writing yesterday’s post I got to thinking about the worst kids from my Scout troop. I can’t remember the surname of the marine so can’t look up his son. I do remember the name of the cub leader’s son; and was not surprised to learn he’s been given at least four jail sentences, maybe more. He’s been found guilty of drug dealing, robbery, assault, criminal damage and behaving in a racially motivated manner. I was surprised to read his older brother, also in my scout troop and one of the nicer ones, was also sentenced to prison. This was a couple of years ago, he was the same age as I am now. His story sounds weirdly similar to mine, except he was addicted to drugs rather than suffering a physical ailment.

It sounds like he screwed up bad at some point but was given a second chance, working a respectable job for a celebrity chef, but when he was sentenced it said he had no fixed abode, like me, that he’d committed a number of petty thefts, like me, and that he stole mainly from the Co-op, like me! The main difference was that he’s been seen in court more than fifty times and that he was found guilty and sentenced.

This maybe lets you know the sort of shit I was used to dealing with at secondary school and in my extra curricular activities. There really wasn’t anywhere for kids to hang out and be kids - no cinema, skate park, fast food outlets, shopping centre… anywhere normal teens go to socialise. When I started travelling to VIth form I originally kept myself to myself, spending free time in the excellent library. It didn’t take long before I started making friends in class and then being invited to go hang out at the bowling alley, the shops or the local park. It was genuinely a nice surprise to find that I liked just about everyone I met at VIth form and was well liked in return. This was true in my various classes and at DofE, where I didn’t know anyone but found myself in a group of five, ready to fulfil the Expedition requirements of the Gold award.

There was me, Joey, Johnno, Trudge and Bowser. Joey was a farmer’s son. He was originally from out of county but spoke with a broad local accent. The last time I saw him was at that house party; his presence there was awkward as he had lost his job when his employers found images of underage girls on his laptop. He said he was innocent but restored the computer to factory settings and wrote over the hard drive before handing it back. Johnno went to a local secondary school and was pretty popular outside the club, he had a really easy going nature that made him easy to get along with. Trudge was a year older than us and had a mischievous streak; like me he made a lot of jokes and knew just how far to take things without getting into trouble. He flirted a lot with one of the supervisors; a girl named Jess that could only have been a couple of years older than us. Finally there was Bowser, another local boy I’ve mentioned before. He went do a different local school than Johnno and did know plenty of people there, but we had to form groups between four and seven people and people who knew him better than us knew not to take him! He was a nice kid but awkward; he always looked kind of greasy and wore an Iron Maiden t-shirt and a leather jacket. He was too earnest for his own good and made a lot of bold declarations, two qualities sure to make you the butt of the joke when you’re dealing with bored teenage boys. I remember when Pope John-Paul II died Bowser said that John-Paul was one of the most common names for a pope. My friend Squelch immediately pointed out he was only the second one.

Pope Moira I

Another time, and I still feel guilty about this, he told me that a bunch of us should get letters sprayed on the back of our heads for Children in Need. I don’t know if that’s still a thing, but you used to get groups of people doing that so that it would spell out the name of a charity or whatever when they all stood together. I offhandedly told him that some of us were already planning it, and that he could be the letter E if he wanted. He asked what we were spelling out and I said it was a secret. I swear I never thought he’d believe me! I beat him to our usual hangout zone and told a bunch of other kids to pretend they were assigned letters, but not to give away what they were. Nobody gave the game away, and poor Bowser not only bought it, he started bragging that he knew what the word was going to be! The next day when Bowser turned up his hair had been gelled into a big quiff, and he had a big capital letter E sprayed across the back of his head in gold paint. The edges were so smooth that a stencil must have been used, and I realised with a heavy heart that he must have told his mum he was taking part in this charity stunt and that she must have helped him. He was confused to find a couple of us there with no lettering on our person, and when more kids showed up he finally realised he was the only one. It was funny, but mean, and I hope he never told his mum he’d been fooled, rather telling us that someone took a photo but he didn’t have a copy yet. It’s not the worst thing I ever did, but it’s the thing I feel most guilty about. The worst zinger he got was in math class; Sally was teaching us something or other to do with logarithms and the exponential function. e is a mathematical constant, similar to pi, and Sally asked poor Bowser a question to which e was the answer. Someone else piped up “If you’re not sure of the answer, it’s written on the back of your head.” The whole class had a good laugh at that. Too often I’d just mess with someone for some light fun, I was kind of an asshole at times. I suppose most teenagers are.

I may as well tell you my other quickest, stupidest lie I told because I don’t know when it will come up again. I was at Johnno’s 18th birthday party, he shared a birthday with a girl that he went to primary and secondary school with and their parents had a tradition of throwing them joint parties. They had booked a hall and there must have been maybe 200 people there. Some people knew both Johnno and the girl, and some knew one of them better than the other. A girl at the party asked me why Johnno’s parents had bought him a cake that said “Happy 18th Birthday Robert.” The answer was simple; his name was Robert Johnson. I told her a lie that I still think about pretty regularly, because I can’t believe how quickly it came to me or that she bought it. “It’s pretty sad, actually” I told her. “When they went to order the cake the bakers told them that they had just made another cake of the same design, but that the other customer had never showed up to collect it. They said that rather than make a new cake they were happy to sell them the existing one at quarter of the price. It was marked down low because it had the wrong name on it.”

“That’s terrible!” she told me. “I can’t believe they’d do that!” She did, though! Looking back on it, she was probably drinking. I guess it’s never too early for girls to know that guys will lie to them at bars! I told her Johnno understood why they did but was a little embarrassed about it, and then we wound up talking about other things. I do sometimes wonder if she ever passed the story on, or if she worked out I was lying, or whether she never knew I was pulling the wool over her eyes. Good times!

Our first expedition was pretty straightforward; a two day walk along a coastal path. We would be staying in a hostel, so we didn’t need to carry tents, sleeping bags and the like. It was pretty easy going. I was worried I’d be the slowest one, I certainly wasn’t as athletic as Trudge or Johnno, who were both taller than average to boot. It turned out to be Bowser that slowed us down; he walked at a slower pace and was generally more enthusiastic about stopping for breaks. I reminded him of his hubris when we were planning the hike; when we’d looked for a place to have lunch around the halfway mark he’d seriously suggested that “We can eat whilst we walk.” Don’t think those words didn’t come back to bite him!

We had a genuinely good time together, indulging in casual banter and referencing The Simpsons at every available opportunity. We made fun of Joey’s adopted accent and Frank’s constant intake of Lucozade glucose tablets. Trudge had a bit where he would push you towards the cliff edge and then pull you back, telling you “Tell your mother I saved your life.” We made good time and avoided any pitfalls. On the second day Trudge deliberately left a bunch of his stuff at the hostel lobby, banking on the teachers running the event would spot them and give them back to him when we regrouped. He was dead right, and did a good job of faking embarrassment for our amusement.

Our second excursion took us across the moors. We had planned a three day hike stopping at two campgrounds. The weather setting off was terrible, we climbed the first two hills with a strong wind in our face the whole time. We couldn’t talk to each other whilst moving, and we could feel the wind pushing against us. We grouped together at the top of the second peak and met with Jess; you have to do your expedition unaided but you need to check in as you go. We had barely stopped when the wind whisked Frank’s ground mat off the bottom of his rucksack and sent in careening back down the hill we’d just climbed. If you’re unfamiliar: a ground mat is a thin piece of foam, similar to a yoga mat, you put it under your sleeping bag when you sleep and it provides a little warmth and comfort. We watched Bowser's race away from us down the hill, gaining momentum, rolling and bouncing, assisted by gravity and the savage wind. When it reached the bottom of the hill it kept going, climbing up the first hill we’d encountered. It moved like it was in a cartoon, or as if you’d filmed a mat rolling down the hill and played the film in reverse. I wouldn’t have thought it would reach the peak if I hadn’t seen it with my two eyes, but I swear it happened. It made it over the summit way faster than we had, and then it was gone forever. It happened absurdly fast, one minute Bowser was a guy who owned a ground mat, the next he wasn't. We couldn’t believe it.

At some point on the second day Trudge realised he no longer had his sleeping bag with him. We had two tents and had somehow come to the arrangement that Johnno and Joey were going to be in one tent that night whilst me, Trudge and Bowser would sleep in the other. I suggested Bowser and I unzip our bags and try to cover the three of us the best we can.

Bowser wasn’t up for this. I suppose he needed his sleeping bag encasing him as that and the tent’s groundsheet was all that was keeping him from lying on the ground. Still, two sleeping bags covering three is a lot roomier than one sleeping bag covering two. I had a compact mummy-style bag; when unzipped it was considerably smaller than a single duvet and an awkwward shape. We huddled under it for a while but in the end Trudge slept in his emergency survival bag. These bags are not designed to be slept in; they’re bright orange sacks made from thick polyethylene. If you find yourself without shelter they are waterproof; the idea is if you are without shelter you can tear off a corner and wear it like a poncho. They are not breathable, and as Trudge found out, if you sleep in one you will wake up lying in a pool of your own sweat!

When all else fails!

Trudge got his revenge on Bowser before going to sleep though; for some reason Bowser thought it would be a good idea to blindfold himself with a black sleep mask before settling down for the night. A few minutes after he did so Trudge stuck his fingers up his own asshole and held them underneath Bowser’s nose. After a moment Bowser bolted up into a sitting position, sniffing wildly. Trudge and I said nothing. I told Bowser what happened months later when we were playing Never Have I Ever at a party. He really had no idea how to make things easy for himself.

Our final expedition was through the Brecon Beacons, a series of mountains in Wales. This was truly unfamiliar terrain and different groups were planning to stay at different campsites. We all slept in the same campground the night before setting off; before that we descended on a local town and were told to sort our own food out before meeting up at a pub. That night was the first time they broadcast the final episode of Friends, and people were genuinely worried that they might not get to see it. I don’t know why, if none of us saw it then nobody could spoil it; this was the days before smartphones and constant internet. That said, it was a huge deal globally, people were gathered together in Time Square to watch it. I never saw the appeal of the show, it’s the only episode I’ve ever seen, and I’m using that word very loosely! It’s also the only time I ever watched Big Brother.

But before that we ransacked the local takeaways! Trudge, Johnno and I hit up a pizza place. We all ordered medium pizzas and paid in advance. Johnno had ordered one with ham, pineapple and peppers. It was just us three there. Shortly after the bloke behind the counter called out that he had a large ham and pineapple ready to go. Johnno thanked the guy and took it. Trudge and I exchanged glances, but kept our mouths shut. A couple of minutes later a woman came in, saying she was there to pick up a telephone order. The pizza guy told her it would be ready soon. A little while later he announced he had a medium with ham, pineapple and peppers to go. The three of us looked at him blankly. He asked if it was ours and we reminded him of our orders. The lady told him she was there for a large ham and pineapple with no peppers. He realised what had happened and asked us if we knew the other boy. “No,” we told him without hesititation. It was fucking obvious we did, three English lads all walking in together wearing waterproofs and carrying rucksacks. Still, butter wouldn’t melt in our mouths! He told the lady he’d make her a new pizza and we took ours and met the rest of our group in the centre of town. Johnno had realised his mistake and was giving excess slices to all takers!

In my experience Welsh girls are filthy!

Our trek the next day started inauspiciously. We had mobile phones but weren’t supposed to uses them; we were supposed to have the battery out. We genuinely didn’t use them, all we’d have been doing was texting anyway, this being pre-smartphone and high quality cameraphones. Bowser had his attached to the outside of his bag; it wasn’t long before it fell off as we made our way across a field. It was fine, he had a flip phone and it fell on to long grass, but if I hadn’t spotted it and handed it to him he’d never have found it again. He attached it to his bag in the same manner as before, and a little while later it fell off again. I picked it up again and he put it back again! When it fell off a third time I pocketed the bastard - three strikes and you’re out, my friend! Johnno saw me, but didn’t say anything. After about an hour the long straight path we were following between two fields ended at a hedge with a stile. We all clambered across and decided it was as good a place as any to stop for a drink of water. I asked if we’d all managed to hold on to our equipment so far, referring to Trudge and Bowser’s previous misfortunes. We all had a chuckle and then Bowser’s face fell; he looked like he shat himself! “I’ve just got to check something” he said, before jumping back over the hedge.

“What’s that about?” Trudge asked.

“Twat’s lost his phone again,” I told him, before fishing it out of my pocket.

We watched him get further and further away, checking each side of the path. Just before he went out of eyeline I put the phone on the stile and set the ringer going. Bowser turned around to see us all having a good laugh at his expense! “Very funny,” he told us when we finally met up again.

“Put the fucking thing INSIDE your bag!” I advised. I couldn’t believe his carelessness.

That was nothing compared to my disbelief the next day. We were making our way down a mountain in the afternoon and decided to stop for a break. Bowser casually asked if anyone had seen the tent canvas he was supposed to be carrying. He was so nonchalant that it was doubly infuriating; we had two tents; therefore two sets of poles and two canvases. I was carrying the poles that matched his tent. The poles and canvases were too bulky to go inside a bag, everyone had them strapped to the outside of their rucksacks. They were easily the heaviest thing any of us were carrying and probably the most valuable; both financially and in terms of how much we depended on them. It was inconceivable that one of us would have noticed the canvas fall from his bag without passing comment.

We had no idea when or where he had lost it. We weren’t following existing trails but were relying on a map and compass; the idea of exactly tracing our steps was implausible even if we weren’t restrained by time and our own tiredness. I couldn’t understand how Bowser had dropped it without realising. He told me he noticed his pack feeling lighter at one point but hadn’t thought to look into it. “What did you think happened; one of your Lucozade tablets was kicking in?” Sardonic piss-taking was pretty much my default when dealing with Bowser. I know I’ve been ragging on him pretty hard; I should make it clear that he was a smart guy; he did well academically and went on to study Geology at university. He didn’t have aspergers or autism or anything, he was jusy incredibly lacking in self awareness.

Joe and I agreed to climb back up that one mountain to see if we could spot it, any further would be pushing it. Trudge and Johnno watched our packs; they had a tent between them and I think they saw it as being very much his problem!

It was incredibly frustrating not knowing where I was going to sleep and carrying the poles with no corresponding canvas. I didn’t know whether or not his losing the canvas would affect whether or not the rest of us completed the expedition successfully. In the end we were lucky that there were enough from our party staying at the two remaining campsites that other groups could merge and we could use the spare canvas this freed up. I’m sure the other kids must have been annoyed to find they were suddenly sleeping in closer quarters because of our group’s cock up.

These girls have lost even more gear than we did!

In the end Bowser paid the college for a replacement canvas and we all got the expedition section signed off. It was the only portion I completed! Johnno finished the whole thing and got to meet Prince Philip at an awards ceremony held in the Eden Project; a tourist attraction in Cornwall featuring a couple of fancy biodomes at the bottom of an old quarry. The whole pit is lined with plants; it’s pretty cool. I know Bowser and Joe fulfilled the Residential requirement; this fifth section requires you to spend time away from home with other youth working to achieve some sort of worthwhile goal. You’re not supposed to know anyone when you do it, but the two of them had wound up doing something with lifeboats together. I remember the last time I saw them at that house party I said a little too loudly “Imagine being stranded at sea and then having to deal with these two cunts turning up!” We had some wild parties at my friend Dave’s, I still have a scar on my arm from when I set my arm on fire showing off! I wore a jumper for days to hide the blisters from my parents, when they did eventually notice it I said I had caught it on the edge of a hot frying pan making pancakes!

I have other memories, but I’m not sure when they fit into the timeline. I remember waking up early on the third night in Wales and having the longest shower of my life in the campground’s fancy shower block. I stayed there for forty minutes; the water gradually rejuvenating me in a way that slumber had not. I constantly had to restart the shower flowing, and every ten minutes I had to open the shower cubicle to activate the motion detectors on the lights. It was the same feeling of my body taking what it needs that I’ve only ever experienced when eating a big hot meal after being truly hungry, having gone over a day without eating, or when being given intravenous antibiotics in order to fight an infection. My head felt less muffled and I was able to think more coherently. I never could sleep well in a tent!

I remember one campsite only had one toilet, and it wasn’t prepared for twenty or so people all turning up more or less at once, not having had a chance to take a shit since setting off that morning. (I think we might have had a trowel in a ziplock bag between us, but there was no way anyone was going to stop in the middle of a moor to shit out in the open, then bury it whilst their friends waited!) I remember finding the toilet packed full of crap. Flushing it helped slightly, but eventually I had to just add to the pile. As I made my way back to the camp my friend Squelch was heading to use the loo himself; I warned him that it was pretty dire. I’d dealt with worse at the Scouts, digging a big hole with my buddy Chris and emptying a chemical toilet into it. The bleach from those things would burn your nose, mouth and eyes, and it rendered the contents of the toilet dark blue. It was worse than anything I encountered since, and I’ve worked at a dry cleaners, a charity shop and a recycling centre; I’ve handled a lot of stuff others might turn their noses up at!

All our cooking was done on a portable stove that left your food tasting at least a little bit like methylated spirits depending on how well the equipment had been cleaned last time. It was pretty horrible. I ended up sticking to boil-in-the-bag ration packs that never touched the water they were cooked in. For lunch I’d have pork pies and Mars or Snicker bars; food chosen to withstand being crushed and with a high number of calories per cubic inch. An external assessor spoke to us a couple of times, and wrote in my book that I had been very thoughtful about the food I took and that I had good spirits and a strong sense of humour and was good at motivating the group by keeping things light and fun!

My only other lasting memory is of Joe displaying an unusual talent. We were passing through a farm at one point and could hear a tractor. “That be a John Deere tractor, that be,” Joe told us. He really did decide at one point to make a janner his whole identity; I’ve known other farmer’s sons that were passionate about farming, but he adopted it as a persona after moving from Gillingham. Fuck me if he wasn’t right though!

Peace!

✌