I have had a tattoo. And I’m as surprised as anyone about that because I’m not a tattoo sort of person, especially because I’ve seen some horrors and somehow the awful ones look worse on women. Then again, there can be little to beat the nine-legged octopus and the words ‘Crazy Horse’ scrawled over the whole back of one of my ex-husband’s friends. It still gives me nightmares to think about it.
I always thought I just might take the plunge though, if I could find something I wouldn’t tire of very easily because I know what I’m like. I can’t even commit to a choice of mains in the restaurant without running after the waiter to say I’ve changed my mind. I never found that design… until recently.
Looking through my mum’s effects I came across a love letter that my father had written to her before they were married, when he was here in Barnsley and she was back home in Glasgow. I knew of the existence of this letter but I never read it because it was personal. But when she passed, I dared to dip in and it was beautiful. Anyone who knew my dad might not associate him with romance, he was rock solid and decent… but about as likely to turn up with a bunch of red roses as I am to adorn the front cover of Vogue.
To read that he had been busy saving up his brass so that in three week’s time he’d have enough money for a marriage licence, a ring and a few pounds over was touching. Then he went on to say that the sensible thing would be to wait for a few more months and have more money saved. ‘But I don’t feel sensible any more’ he told her, because she had altered all that. When I read it, my heart thumped with deep joy because we don’t think of our sensible parents as young, impulsive things do we?
I’m glad mine were and rushed to the altar because they couldn’t wait. So maybe, at sixty myself, it was time to throw caution to the wind, make an appointment at Black Anvil in Wombwell and have those words put on my arm forever, in my dad’s handwriting, lifted from his letter. So I did and I can’t stop looking at it because, stupid as it may sound, I feel as if they are close to me again. It didn’t feel reckless, it felt right. And not being sensible worked out okay for them because they were married for sixty years.
I defy anyone to find a more passionate man about film than Rob Younger at our very own Barnsley Parkway. So here’s a date for your diary – 6pm June 15th , when he will be showing an original 35mm copy of ‘Kes’. There are only two original copies still around and the other is held by the British Film Institute. This copy is owned by Ronnie Steele, the chair of the Kes group who instigated the project to put the Barry Hines memorial statue by the entrance of the Alhambra centre. But the reel is no good sitting in a tin, so he and Rob decided to load up the film for people to see. There will be an interview with Dai Bradley, who played Billy Casper in the film afterwards so grab an ice cream and sit back and enjoy the evening. It’s one of those films best seen in a throng on a big screen and this is part of our local history, so don’t miss out.
