How, Over 40 Years Ago, A Guy Called Andy Changed My Life With 5 Words, And Other Reminiscences...

The great thing about this blog for me, is that it has allowed me to record a life in gaming, the people I've met, mistakes I've made and the things which, have connected the various stages of my gaming journey.

You may say I live in the past, and I'd not argue with you. But let me be clear, I have a very accute aesthetic sensibility. I've 'morphed' many times in my life and the life I live is quite carefully curated and crafted. I interface with and understand modern technology, and I keep very much up to date with news, and world politics, which themselves make me less inclined to engage with the 'modern' world. 

I approach my 70s and moreso 80s lifestyle afresh, looking at the things which, I just wasn'y interested in at the time, being a kid. I osmotically absorb articles, books and history shows about things like the Miner's Strike, the Cold War (same shit, different day - terrifies my wife and because I know you need three 6s to get a launch under WRG, I'm not at all phased ) and other stuff, whilst discarding stuff I don't need. 

On the BBC at present is a great documentary from 19894 on Band Aid. Not interested at the time, but now, I found I really enjoyed watching the interplay of egos and what were obviously skilled musicians. Midge Ure in particular really knew what he was doing and left that lout Geldof in the dust.

Now, contrary to the belief of a couple of friends, I don't see the 80s through rose tinted specs (although I did wear rose tints at the time and it was great - note to self: find pink lensed Ray-Bans) but, I do not try to run away from my past and who I was. After all, no matter how shitty your life, or seemingly embarrasing, you are you because of, not despite these things.

The abolity to cringe at yourself, keeps you sharp.

Have done regrettable things? Of course I have on every level; some of which I will take to the grave - as we all will - but I like to think that I've 'made good' over the following decades and have often stepped up to prevent complete strangers from making similar fuck ups. But I have to have that young and stupid me, on my shoulder, to be me.

I recently decided to embrace the late 80s self, and dyed my hair as a sort of social experiment. You see, in 1986 I dyed my hair black, got a few piercings and embraced Goth - proper Goth, not this new angst ridden bollocks - because of the Games Workshop ban.

As I have previously recounted, I was banned as an example to others of my large fraternity, and it hit me hard. Remember that I'd been the first customer of GW Sheffield in 82 and had made many friends therein. It was the social centre of our world and still not the one-stop corporate hell it is today. I was a teenager, and a quite delicate oone at the time, despite running with wargaming's 'Murder Inc.'

I cannot tell you the emotional turmoil I went through for almost 30 years, until my wife let rip at obne of those responsible for the ban who was by then a neighbour. She tore him a new one, and when I wrote my book a few years later and interviewed people who were 'in the know' the full story came out and for the first tim in years I slept a full night's sleep.

To emotionally fuck up a kid like that is downright evil, although it transpired that at the time it was seen as a bit of a wheeze.

My circle of friends all got the message and avoided me like the plague lest they also be placed in the crosshairs.

I once even tried to walk in and was armlocked and thrown physically out with a threat that my back would be broken if I came in again. I tried again when that malicious bastard got redployed, and this time they got a friend to firmly escort me out, whispering in my ear that he was just doing his job and he knew it was all crap (which of course it was proved to be). Two friends actually got jobs at GW in return for their silence - really!

Well, I found new friends and reconnected with an old school friend, found Goth and metamorphosed into a different person. I became withdrawn and untrusting. I developed a nasty streak and a vicious tongue as one or two may have witnessed in the early years of my running the bring and buy at Triples.

I took no prisoners 

And this, was because, one Sunday, I walked into the Escafeld Kreigspielers club, with black/ purple hair and ebony clad (stylishly of course).

Eyebrows were raised, mutterings heard and I played a ver unenjoyable game of In The Grand Manner.

A week later I was asked by Lloyd Powell whom I hold in the highest respect and regard was it true I was on drugs?

What the actual fuck?

Apparently some of those present at the Sunday game (you know who you are and I have long forgiven you my friends) equated my new stylings to be an indicator I was a junkie.

Apart from when someone spiked me - and left Sheffield when they found their mistake was a big one - I have never touched even dope. I like to be in control of my surroundings too much.

Lloyd had scotched that straight away at SWS, but a few wankers actually believed the hype and perpetrated the lie. So, I became as bad assed and carried the chip on my shoulder for decades. I became a fucking terror to try and talk to at shows. I kept my own dark counsel and offered my hand to nobody, save a few people whom I trusted absolutely.

To this day, some pillocks still think I am the person I was painted as, and it's their loss because I can't 'do' with two-faced greetings and blank them at shows. I don't have time for that kind of rubbishing.

Anyway, I dyed my hair, being careful to leave a lock of silver hair to show that I'm doing it because I want to rather than hiding the grey.  I'm also growing my hair again, just for shits and giggles.

It will be interesting to see if friends react similarly and look askance or whether in their own autumnal years, they see that no matter the way I look, I am the same person. It's going to be an interesting experiment. 

I'm heading towards 60, but look younger anyway - my family tend to look young and die young for some reason - and apart from a bit of weight I don't look much different to how I did in my Goth days - Hurrah!

Look, you get one ride on this roundabout and it's your ride. I lost almost three decades because I was bothered about how others perceived me. Well, that was a waste of half my life, so now I have to burn like a comet.

I love and cherish my friends, live to game and spend time with my wife who bore so much of that emotional baggage I carried. In actual fact, if she seriously said I had to choose between gaming and her, the games would go - no question. That from someone who lives and breathes gaming and toy soldiers.

I am ferociously loyal to my friends, but equally critical when needed, and I think that's how it should be.

Before I sign off, I bagged a few more bits this week:

 

 These are all for the Sword & Sorcery project and include a classic Citadel Demon and my fourth Tony Ackland Orc War Machine, but the real gem is the Collectors Tokens Ogre, which is particularly rare.

Here's a close-up:

 I'll be adding this to the 15 Golgfag's Ogres already in the army

Well, the day is passing and I have work to do...

TTFN