Sometimes it just takes a single sound, sight or smell to trigger buried memories. That can work for good as well as ill. For the mad it can go a stage further into flashback although I've not had one of those for some time. Well not whilst I was awake anyway.
Those who lived through private school in the 1970s and 1980s will recall places that were at best spartan and at worst brutal. Those were words my friend Erny used to describe his time at his boarding school. No doubt such conditions always existed before then too but I didn't witness them.
Any of us who lived through that time in the famous choir that became such a part of my life will recall the words "tap" and "Star of Bethlehem". I mention the latter in Charon's Ferry. Only those with a sadistic temperament will recall them with any fondness. It was institutional bullying the like of which I know was replicated in other choir schools at the time.
So why mention that today? Well it will be very hard to has not noticed the ice bucket craze that is sweeping the world at the moment. All in a good cause although not everyone knows which cause. Nor how to pay. It struck me as an awful thing to do to put people in a position where they are pressured into getting drenched in ice cold water. I wouldn't want to nominate anyone.
Late last night this strange phenomenon took me back to the 1970s. Not good to awaken slumbering demons. And those demons came for me in the night. I slept very badly and awoke far too early. The promise of the day and the sun soon evaporated and I find myself a little restless.
Yet with Mozart's Great Mass playing I hope to ease the anxiety of the night and the past as I drift on towards Saturday. The big day, 45, two meals out and lots of friends. That is something to erase the past. Well until the next time.
I Heard a Voice.
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