I spent a pleasant couple of hours this afternoon down Nostalgia Street with my good friend A.J. And, as he reminded me, we are but a short time away from having known each other 50 years, man and boy. And in fact incredibly young boys. And Hello dear boy should you finally find your way to this online tome.
We partook of a small libation at a hostelry in Ealing and gazed out upon the rolling plain of Ealing Green and our old school beyond. Not that it is a school now. In fact very little is the same here since we left 35 years ago. A wander up the high street from what was the Queen Vic reveals just 1 shop that is the same as it was then, and even then I'm not sure it was there. Crispins Wine Bar was definitely around but might have been up near The Mall. No more Martins the Newsagent where we would rush to get to our Rhubarb and Custards and our Kola Kubes, sherbert pips and Jubblys on a summers afternoon. No more Beggars Banquet record store which excelled itself a few years later by playing Ivor Bigguns Winkers Song (Misprint), at full volume over the external loud speaker.
No, Ealing isn't what it used to be, but then 35 years on, neither are we.
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