Like most small town boys of my era I was a Boy Scout.
Standing at attention in my beret and sash, flashing the official Lord Baden-Powell two-fingered salute, I was sure I looked just as cool as Sean Connery in "Dr. No," or maybe Clint Eastwood in "Where Eagles Dare." Dashing... manly... debonair. After all, what girl can resist a man with the words "Fruitbelt Camporee" emblazoned across his shirt?
However, before you get too far in forming a mental image of idyllic, Rockwellian youth, I should take a moment to point out that, just a few jamborees down the line, I was unceremoniously expelled from the troop and my scouting career ended in Nixonian disgrace. Much later in life, I was also kicked out of a Sex Pistols concert and to this day I'm not sure which incident I'm more proud of.
Now, Scout Leaders have earned a reputation as being second only to Catholic Priests in the pedophilia department, but in our troop, the only thing they were guilty of was extreme stupidity.
Our first illustrious leader was Mr. P. (I'm playing it safe here, as I'm a little fuzzy on the legal ramifications of pointing out someone's idiocy on the internet.)
Anyway, Mr. P. had us going door to door for about two years, collecting old newspapers and magazines to sell to recyclers at something like 2¢ a ton. One day, a guy gave us a large stack of Playboy magazines.
I don't know if I can properly convey in words how significant this was in the days before the internet. It was possibly the single most exciting moment of my young life. It was like finding the Holy Grail.
Anyway, Mr. P. had us going door to door for about two years, collecting old newspapers and magazines to sell to recyclers at something like 2¢ a ton. One day, a guy gave us a large stack of Playboy magazines.
I don't know if I can properly convey in words how significant this was in the days before the internet. It was possibly the single most exciting moment of my young life. It was like finding the Holy Grail.
Unfortunately, like most good things, it was too good to last. We would have been okay if we'd just played it cool and hidden them quietly, but word of the miracle spread through the troop like wild fire and there was no controlling us. Soon we were all gathered in an excited huddle, marveling at the glorious new world Heff was opening up for us, a world of buxom beauties, witty repartee, and velvet smoking jackets.
Suddenly, Mr. P. burst into our midst, nearly frothing at the mouth in his religious fury. He angrily snatched the magazines away and hurled them onto the top of the nearest recycling truck.
It was a crushing, heart-breaking blow and I swear I heard old Baden-Powell roll over in his grave as it happened. I feel certain that Lord Robert shared our appreciation for tastefully posed women with air-brushed breasts, even if Mr. P. didn't.
We finished that paper drive in a daze, our hearts heavy with the knowledge that a once in a lifetime opportunity had been stolen from us. I think a little part of me died that day, and from that moment on, the Boy Scouts were never quite the same for me.
To be continued...
Suddenly, Mr. P. burst into our midst, nearly frothing at the mouth in his religious fury. He angrily snatched the magazines away and hurled them onto the top of the nearest recycling truck.
It was a crushing, heart-breaking blow and I swear I heard old Baden-Powell roll over in his grave as it happened. I feel certain that Lord Robert shared our appreciation for tastefully posed women with air-brushed breasts, even if Mr. P. didn't.
We finished that paper drive in a daze, our hearts heavy with the knowledge that a once in a lifetime opportunity had been stolen from us. I think a little part of me died that day, and from that moment on, the Boy Scouts were never quite the same for me.
To be continued...
Too funny Eric, worthy of a Vinyl Cafe episode. Looking forward to the next post
ReplyDeleteKindly supply date and location of Sex Pistols show that you were ever, EVER at. Bullshit, you probably were a BROWNIE too!
ReplyDeleteEddie, you sound like an angry, bitter little man.
ReplyDeleteEver hear of the two, count 'em, two, Filthy Lucre Live Tours?
No, I thought not.
yes but WHERE and WHEN did YOU see them? you see THAT was the question
ReplyDeleteWell, Eddie, in the first place, I’m not sure why you’re having such a hard time with this. They toured extensively from 1996 to 2008, playing mid-size arenas. Thousands and thousands of people attended these concerts. It’s not like some exclusive club.
ReplyDeleteIn the second place, I’m not sure why I give a shit what you think, but I saw them twice. I believe the dates were Aug. 12, ‘96 and Aug. 25 ‘03, both times at the Molson Amphitheatre.
The second date is when the overzealous security and police gave me the boot. Hopefully that will set your mind at ease and you can finally get on with your life.
Oh ya mean the "reunion" Pistols. Not quite the real thing was it? You gave the impression of being involved in some genuine mayhem, say at the 100 Club circa 1976. You meant the beer-sponsored schtick with that wanker Matlock...suppose you'll catch them at Casino Rama in a couple of years time and re-live your "punk" days.....yawn
ReplyDeleteIt was quite a leap for you to get the impression I was hanging out at the 100 Club. As for the reunion tours, obviously they were a cash grab, but I had to check them out. The first show was surprisingly good, the second one pretty much sucked. Also, Matlock may have been a wanker, but he wrote the melodies for most of the Pistols' songs and played bass on about half of Bollocks. I don't think Sid ever played on a record. Maybe on some of the Swindle stuff, but I doubt it, since he was a junkie by then. Also, most of that was post-Lydon, so you can't really call it the Pistols, can you?
ReplyDeleteI most certainly did NOT roll over in my grave when your filthy girly porn was confiscated from you and your heathen bretheren. You see, I am (was) a PEDOPHILE and a GAY one at that! Now, perhaps you'd care to have a gander of what I've got stashed under the pillow.
ReplyDelete