MEMORY LANE - Summer Special Edition - Or: Sand, Sea, D&D...

 Ah Summer... That brief time when one's mind wanders back to simpler times of sea, sex and 3D6.

When I say I live and breathe gaming, I genuinely mean it. I go to sleep thinking about figures and I wake up thinking about them, after often dreaming of games. It's an equitable life imdeed, and has always been thus, since those tentative toe-dips into the hobby, so very long ago.

The Summer holidays were great. We didn't worry about 'extreme' heat, there was plenty of Kia-Ora on ice in the fridge and my parents had a long and well kept back garden, on which I and similarly mgalomaniacal friend would play vast games of 1st and 2nd ed WHFB from 10AM until 5PM, in an unending war.

The size of the garden meant that we could use war machines to full effect, and I remember fondly how we wrote rules for the prolonged death spins of large flying creatures, most memorably resulting in a dying dragon spending 8 turns spiralling around the garden before fortuitously crashing to earth on top of one of Alan's units.

As I widened my circle across the city, like some decadent, determined to spread their laisez faire approach to life as far as possible, I came up with the idea of the Gaming Circle, with Roger, Darren and Simon, where  (with a few hangers on) a mother's home was taken over for on average 12 hours (longer, if Roger and Simon were in charming mode) with refreshments and tracklements of sufficient quantity and quality to keep even the most dedicated trencherman sated. And, we would each host a game... The siege of Chester, a fantasy battle,  2mm ACW game and shoot out in the ruins of Beirut, where grenade tosses became as dangerous for the owner as the recipient, and Roger took some evil pleasure in pointing out when a pineapple had gone astray amongst the plaster of Paris rubble, strewn across his mother's living room carpet.

Any time I tired of this life, I was able to simply pack a case and go to the East coast where assorted family and relatives owned spacious and comfortable caravans. One year, I actually managed 5 out of the 6 weeks of the holidays, and came home tanned and svelte, satisfied in every way. Sometimes, if my Dad was working on a series of audits in the east of england, he would actually commute to and from the caravan each day, and then, have a couple of weeks holiday in the mix. It was all very nice indeed.

I had regular friends down there too, in the shape of Wal', Andy, Steve, Mark, Stella and Mel, not to mention Donna, Gary and a few I can't recall. We once took a friend from home with us, but only once because Shaun totally and literally screwed it with the girls in my hare.. Errr, circle of friends.

We spent a lot of time at the beach in that way that only feels so good when you are a teenager and the hormones are rising. Our hair was sun-lightened, skin tanned and we were living our best life. The hormones also got a pretty good work-out too, and it was during the Summer of '84 that I entered into the arena of adulthood, with Stella, Mel and Donna, each arriving on a different week, in that particular year.

I was probably closest to Mel in the long run, who was super slim (skinny really) and had an accent like Lorraine Chase. Her temper was hot to say the least, and she once delivered a slap to my face, just after breakfast that would have made Trotsky think he got the soft end of the ice pick.

There was another Mel from Rotherham, whose bust was so large that it had it's own gravitational pull, normally strongest against the groin of teenage lads. I shall say no more, for the sand dunes tell no tales, but I actually stayed in bed for a couple of days, in a state of shock and recovery, causing my Mother serious concern for my welfare.

We also played a lot of D&D. I'd introduced Steve, Mark and Andy to it in 82 and Wal' was a fairly new but enthusiastic convert, and we'd cram around the dining table in the caravan - crammed not because of any lack of space, but because we were all so engrossed in the game, playing 5 or 6 hours, before hitting the night life and taking long walks with the girls, horsing around and strutting with that teenage bravado which didn't require bladed weapons and gang brawls to achieve. And what was great, was that people knew we were a close-knit group and that the holiday romances would pick up where they had left off, the previous season. It really was a pretty fucking amazing way to live. And the music was great.

Now, I am an unashamed fan of Rock and Goth, but yesterday morning, I heard Club Tropicana, and was immediately transported back to those hedonistic and simpler times, to which one may never truly return.

One of my private and shameful indulgences was, being an early riser, to go and fish for crabs on a desserted beach. I'd sometimes forgo the crab fishing and take a satchel containing a Fighting Fantasy book, 2D6, pencil and a character sheet, and just enjoy some 'solo fantasy' as the sun rose and the world came awake. Simple pleasures

In a twist of serendipity, as I have been typing this latest epistle, Amazon have just nearly knocked out one of my Scotties, delivering this splending 'seal killer' of a tome, which I'll try to delve into this weekend, but with Joy Of Six and some packing of orders to do, it may have to wait . Perhapos until I take my month off in August...

I wonder what happened to all those friends? I stopped taking holidays with my parents in 1986, when my family exploded in an orgy of teen anger and overbearing parental control as I hit 18. Not long after that I was thrown out, never to return, existing on my own wits and skills, and literally spending 6 out of 7 nights totally off my face in nightclubs, but still gaming, albeit on a monthly  budget that today, would not cover the cost of a new regiment.

I hope that they all made it to the age I am now. The odds are, one or two didn't. The fiery tempered Mel, the bathykolpion 'other' Mel, flame haired Stella. The sturdy and reliable Wal', wise-cracking Steve and his brother, the cheeky Mark, who was the only one able to beat my mate Shaun in a verbal joust...

If you are out there, my fellow Maidens and Young Braves of all those years ago, I hope you are living your best lives, even now...