Ways that are gone by Trevor Plumbly

Unlike most of the stuff you’re getting recently, this is not about the bloody virus; that will of course become a memory and that’s what I want to chat about. The rear view mirror Following on from ‘Way to go’, I’m wondering about the benefit of allowing memory too much leeway. Some folk often rehash unhappy bits of their lives looking for ‘closure’ (I hate that word). I don’t like revisiting bad news; it’s much easier to forget bits that give me the creeps. No doubt a shrink would have a field… Read More

Nearer my God to thee by Trevor Plumbly

Dear Schoolteachers It is some sixty-odd years since you attempted to shape my mind and I thought my recollection of your efforts might be of interest. Despite your forecasts, I never quite made it as a delinquent; I lacked the stomach for deprivation and, as was the norm in those days, for physical punishment. In an early attempt, I remember standing around a pedal organ with three other snot-nosed street urchins belting out ‘Jesus wants me for a sunbeam’: I became fascinated by the organ stops: they were black and shiny with… Read More