I first met Derek over 50 years ago when as a new boy he chose the seat behind me in Form 3B in St Illtyds. We soon became friends and his sad passing certainly brings back many memories -most of them alcohol related I'm afraid.
He persuaded me go come with him to a pub for my first ever pint during school lunch time (it tasted horrible but I was too concerned about seeming cool to admit it).There was his never to be forgotten recitation of The Owl and the Pussycat in the school Eisteddfodd (he brought the house down), and his equally memorable performance as Rainbow the school caretaker in our performance of The Happiest Days of Your Life (he was such an old ham), and of course his fascination with Chaucer's Canterbury Tales - from which he'd recite lengthy chunks in olde English at the slightest encouragement. It's also the explanation behind Fiona's earlier comment in case you were wondering.
After we left school the phone would ring 3 or 4 times every week and it would be Derek saying 'Do you fancy coming out for a pint?' He was a very bad influence on me I'm afraid. We were complete opposites in many ways - he hated sport for instance (can you believe it?), and we didn't agree on much when it came to politics - but we still got along.
There are a couple of tales that I'd like to share. I know they should show him at his best and show what an upstanding citizen he was - but these are just the ones that come to mind.
The first concerns the trip by 4 of us to Spain for Alan Blackwell's wedding. One night it was late and quite dark by the time we found a campsite. Putting up the huge tent was only a 2 man job and so we tossed coins to see who'd do it while the other 2 went to the bar (Derek was one of the lucky 2 - I wasn't). Unfortunately a gale started blowing and it also started pouring with rain. It took us ages to get the tent up and we only got to the bar as it was closing. However, during that time (and it wasn't 'that' long) Derek had managed to get absolutely plastered.
We went back to the tent and got into our sleeping bags. However, because of the wind and rain Derek was insistent that the numerous ties on the tent flap had to be tied really tightly. Despite the rest of us saying leave it - it doesn't matter, he pressed on in his drunken stupor even though he could hardly stand up. It took him ages before he was finally satisfied and got into his sleeping bag. Then 5 minutes later ..... 'Danny, I think I'm going to be sick - can you open the tent flap' .... 'it was you tied them up - do it yourself'. However, he'd tied them so tightly that couldn't undo them. Cue the comical sight of Derek trying desperately (and unsuccessfully) to get his head underneath the flaps to be sick. Not so comical was when he ended up regurgitating all the beer he'd drunk earlier over my sleeping bag - with me in it. I forgave him though - eventually.
The other tale concerns his time in the Territorial Army which he loved - especially weekends away on training exercises in the back of beyond. He'd always return absolutely bursting with energy and dying for a pint - or three.
During one such exercise somewhere in the wilds of Scotland I had a phone call from him complaining about one of the other chaps who was a big of a big head and was getting on everyone's nerves boasting about his success with women - and mocking their own lack of such success.
Derek asked if I could give him some ammunition to retaliate by sending him a pretend post card from a female admirer, which I did. However, I was on a role and decided to take it further. A friend of ours at the time lived near Derek and he had a sister called Julia. She was absolutely gorgeous and we all had fantasies about her - but she was well out of our reach. Naughty me sent another card to Scotland from this Julia - saying that she'd met me in town and that I'd told her he was in Scotland, and that she'd always had a bit of a thing for him but was too shy to let him know - and how it would great if they could get together.
Now I thought I was helping Derek with this bighead (honest) and I never dreamed he'd think it was for real - and even if he did I'd soon put him right so he wouldn't go making a fool of himself. How was I to know that the first thing he'd do on his return would to knock on Julia's door and ask if he could speak to her??? He told me afterwards that it was absolutely excruciating as she sat looking at him in complete bemusement - clearly absolutely baffled as to why he wanted to see her when they'd barely exchanged more than a few words. The penny slowly dropped and he managed to mumble his excuses and make his escape. His first instinct was to beat me to a pulp - but fair play, he soon saw the funny side. At least it got him back for Spain.
Sadly we lost touch a bit after he moved up North Wales - but he was a very decent man and a good friend, and he won't be forgotten. Best wishes to Doreen and his family at this difficult time.
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