Muswell Hillbillies
Lamenting the sheer lack of summer weather. Would Burt Bacharach have written ‘Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head’ if he lived in the west coast of Scotland. I think not!
Remembering images of better summers in gardens listening to the Grateful Dead’s ‘Dark Star’ (on vinyl) again & again.
Later in Muswell Hill gardens en route to Nepal in the early 70s & hearing a soundtrack consisting of endless Steely Dan & Joe Walsh’s ‘The Smoker you Drink’ (I can still hear ‘Rocky Mountain High as I write this!).
My memories of this period among the ex-pat community of Bankies deep in the heart of suburban London was a happy, carefree period in my life. The colony was founded by Dr Hart’s son (Mike?) & my ex-neighbour from my childhood, Harry McReynolds (who may still be in that area now?).
Most of the colourful characters have all drifted back, Alphonse De Zutter is living on the south side, Joe Clark, who actually arrived in Muswell Hill at the same time as myself but taking a different route. Joe lives beside me now & I see him almost daily.
In fact I hitched with a schoolfriend who is now a teacher in our old school.
It is easy to look back with the ‘rose-tinted’ specs, but there were dark episodes. For example, Welsh Viv fell onto a broken pint tumbler the result of over-indulgence. As I left for work as a demolition man the following day I left clear instructions for my flatmates to ensure that he got to hospital asap as he was bleeding to death. I returned from work & he was still there at death’s door. I picked him up & dragged him to the nearest hospital with one of the Clydebank Crouch End girls & saved his life.
I saw this as an omen & I suggested to my friend Martin that we should both return home to live another day. This we did. Later we were to have the same conversation in another part of London in a similar situation. I believe I saved his life that time.
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