Renshaw's Chronicles: Chronicles Part X

The 1990's saw a number of significant birthdays - Lucy was 21 in 1994, followed by Gary 2 years later. Kelly was 18 in 1997, and, in the last year of the decade, I reached my half century - but more of that later.

In 1992, there was a double birthday celebration at Ardoe House Hotel. Francis Clark (Junior) was 40 and his mother Isobel was 60. Jo and I went along to the do, but I think this was probably the last big Clark family do we were at.

The decade wasn't all about celebrations, however - there were darker moments too. Dawn and Michael's marriage broke up, which surprised and shocked us all. It's never easy when this happens and there was plenty of acrimony at the time, but, when it came to the practicalities of splitting up - who gets which assets and who pays which liabilities - I was asked to act as a kind of arbiter/middle man between Dawn and Michael. I still remember sitting in their front room in Glenmavis as they batted back and forward and I tried to find compromises to all the issues they raised.

Lucy and Derek's problems were to come later in the decade too, but that's getting ahead of ourselves again. I must try and keep some kind of timeline to these memoirs, rather than dotting all over the place.

Gary left home in the 90's as well, although he struggled for a long while, moving from house to house, with us often not finding out exactly where he was staying until after the event. I recall him staying in a flat above a pub at the corner of George St. He also lived in Kincorth for a while and even took on a distressed greyhound which ate his furnishings when he was out at work. Not a happy time for Gary, I fear.

Gary did return home for a while to get back on his feet but was soon heading off out in to the big bad world once more.

Our children were turning in to adults and going through all those horrible adolescent things, but at least it meant that, if Jo and I wanted to go out, we could be pretty sure that at least we had a babysitter for Ross, who was still too young to be left on his own. There were a number of social events - many of them through the squash club connection. This rather grainy extract from the Deeside Piper was taken at one of the ceilidhs at the Town Hall:

Jo and I right of centre next to the Pages, with the Birses left of centre

I was in my 40's now and was playing a lot of golf. I got my handicap down to its low point of 8.6, which was a bit of an improvement on my starting handicap in the mid-80's of 27 at Torphins. I also had a few holes in one, which included one at the 3rd hole at Banchory where the ball flew straight in to the hole without touching a blade of grass. It was in the monthly medal as well and this was the nominated hole for the Sunday Post Putter competition:

I duly received the SP putter and it's now in my golf bag in USA and I use it every year when I golf with Scott on vacation.

The regular Friday night Veterans' football was in full swing throughout the 90's - and is still going today - and we got involved in a few extra-curricular activities as well, one of which was the Raft Race that used to be run from Banchory to Crathes. Gary was now a strapping 19 year old and I roped him in to help us out in the 1994 event:

It was in the mid-late 90's that Ross developed his passion/obsession with computers. He got disinterested in school and started to play truant as well, although we were unaware of the full extent of it at the time.

Of course, I also have to mention that Lucy and Derek got married. It was actually quite a good day out, despite my fears beforehand. Derek's Mum and Stepdad were very helpful as well. The venue of choice was Norwood Hall Hotel - not quite the Marcliffe, but neither was the bill, and they seemed nice and professional.

Of course, it wasn't too long after the wedding before Lucy and Derek were planning a move to USA. The intention - as far as I am aware anyway - was to spend a couple of years there to learn more about Lucy's chosen profession and then return home. The concern was Derek wouldn't have a work permit. The initial job that Lucy was attracted to was in Oklahoma - right in the heart of tornado alley. Jo and I decided we had to holiday in USA that year and go to see Lucy in her new home. We booked the nearest timeshare we could get - in rural Arkansas of all places.

Lucy's planned job in Oklahoma City fell through in the end and she ended up taking a job thousands of miles away in Redding, Northern California. This obviously meant a re-scheduling of our flights but we decided to keep the week's timeshare in Arkansas anyway.

Lucy had problems getting her visa through and eventually decided it would be best to camp down in London, near the US Embassy, and be ready to go. Fortunately, our company had a flat down there near Sloane Square and they were able to use that. It had initially been intended to be for just a couple of days, but it dragged on and on. In the end, Lucy had barely arrived in Redding when Jo and I descended on her. In fact, we were in USA before they left the UK.

Our stay in Arkansas was interesting. We flew in to Little Rock and picked up a hire car and drove north east from there, right through the heart of the Bible Belt. It seemed there were little churches everywhere - even when there was no visible sign of any community. We discovered our time share was in a "dry" county - no alcohol sold anywhere, it seemed. There's always a way, however and we discovered that the local golf club would admit us as day guests, which allowed us to use their bar.

We looked at the map and saw that we weren't too far from the Tennessee border, so we decided one day to take a trip over the Mississippi to Memphis. We did the full tourist thing - Beale St., Graceland and the paddle steamers on the Mississippi:

Ross and I beside the WC Handy statue

Admiring the vintage cars as we waited for the shuttle bus to take us across the road to Graceland

Jo stayed on the magical banks of the Mississippi for ages, soaking in the atmosphere

Our journey back that evening was spectacular. One of those great Southern storms that you see in the movies broke out - I don't think we'd ever seen so much forked lightning - pretty scary. We should have stayed at least one night in Memphis and enjoyed some of the music in the old juke joints in Beale St - perhaps another time?

Another magical little thing about Arkansas - for me at least - was coming across Choctaw Ridge. Bobbie Gentry's Ode to Billie Joe was a massive international hit in 1967 and the lyrics still resonate with us old-timers:

It was the third of June, another sleepy, dusty, delta day
I was out choppin' cotton and my brother was balin' hay
And at dinner time we stopped and walked back to the house to eat
And Mama hollered out the back door, "Y'all remember to wipe your feet"
Then she said, "I got some news this mornin' from Choctaw Ridge
Today Billie Joe McAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge"

Papa said to Mama as he passed around the black-eyed peas
"Well, Billie Joe never had a lick o' sense, pass the biscuits, please
There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
And Mama said it was a shame about Billie Joe anyhow
Seems like nothin' ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge
And now Billie Joe McAllister's jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge

Brother said he recollected when he and Tom and Billie Joe
Put a frog down my back at the Carroll County picture show
And wasn't I talkin' to him after church last Sunday night
I'll have another piece of apple pie, you know, it don't seem right
I saw him at the sawmill yesterday on Choctaw Ridge
And now you tell me Billie Joe's jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge

Mama said to me, "Child what's happened to your appetite?
I been cookin' all mornin' and you haven't touched single bite
That nice young preacher Brother Taylor dropped by today
Said he'd be pleased to have dinner on Sunday, oh by the way
He said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge
And she and Billie Joe was throwin' somethin' off the Tallahatchie Bridge"

A year has come and gone since I heard the news 'bout Billie Joe
Brother married Becky Thompson, they bought a store in Tupelo
There was a virus goin' round, papa caught it and he died last spring
And now Mama doesn't seem to want to do much of anything
And me I spend a lot of time picking flowers up on Choctaw Ridge
And drop them into the muddy water off the Tallahatchie Bridge

Well, we never did see the Tallahatchie Bridge, but I had to stop the car one day as we drove past a sign that said we were crossing over Choctaw Ridge. Damned if I can find the photograph now.

Which brings me neatly round to Banchory Headbangers (http://banchoryheadbangers.blogspot.co.uk/). You've seen the blogs and you may even have heard the Radio Two dedications to us, but did you know how it all started back in the 90's? Dave Williamson and I played a lot of squash together and we started off Banchory Veterans' Football Group (http://bvetsfootballgroup.blogspot.co.uk/) together, and, one night, we got talking about music and discovered some common interests, so we agreed to swap each other's mix tapes (remember them?). Not long after that, a few of us from the Friday night football got together and went up to Dave's house, just outside Torphins, armed with our favourite albums, and played them in his basement. We were younger then and headbanging à la Status Quo came quite naturally to us. One night we even dug out what remained of our 60's/70's gear, added a few hairpieces and this was the result: