Christopher Hamilton

The
Creative Writing course I’m currently doing, recently had us write an
autobiographical piece, based on one prompt from a small selection to
be used for an assessment. I had a few things I was going to use but
eventually settled on a story from a recent trip through Europe. One
of the other pieces I started to write was this one.

In
the end I didn’t use it because, it’s too short a piece and there are
a few holes in my memory of the day. I’m sure I could have managed, with a
little investigation, to flesh it out, but I didn’t really want to
submit it and not be able to use it again until the course was
completed. So I thought I’d share it with anyone who reads the blog
and would like to know what my first memory in life is.

***

I
was 3 years old, and a very energetic kid, who used to follow my
Grandad everywhere. One early Autumn Saturday afternoon, Grandad had
agreed to take my older cousin, Alan, down to a large grassy field
close to their house, with a couple of golf clubs and some golf balls
to teach him how to play. I was the only other boy in the family and
since I tended to go everywhere with my Grandad, he took me along
with them.

Being
that young, there was no way I was going to be able to hit a real
golf ball, and the clubs, even cut down in size for Alan, were much
taller than me. Not wanting to make me feel left out, Grandad took me
down to our local newsagents, who sold various little toys, and
cards, and other things that newsagents in small villages tend to
sell. We bought this really small plastic golf club set that came
with these white plastic golf balls that would catch in the wind, and
go anywhere if hit with any kind of force. I remember the golf club
looked like a driver. It had a white hand grip, with a bright green
shaft, and a big white head, and I thought it was one of the
greatest things I had ever seen. I was being taken
to play with the grown ups and I’d been given this brand new toy to
use all at the same time, what could have been better.

We
walked back to the house to get Alan, and then down the to the field
that was 5 minutes away from the house. The field is about 500 square
yards and runs between the main road of the village and the beach, if
you could really call it that, I would describe it more as a rockery beside some water.
We walked down a large hill towards the field, through piles of
fallen leaves from the trees that rose over the walls of the gardens we
passed, slick with the previous evenings rain. Grandad was holding my
hand, walking between me and the road, and Alan was walking on my
other side with a golf club in one hand and a bag of golf balls in
the other.

I’ve
no idea how long we stayed there with Grandad teaching Alan to play
golf and me dinking these little plastic golf balls a yard at a time.
Time doesn’t really mean much when you’re that young. I imagine I
started to get tired after the long walk to the shops, then the
excitement of going to the field to play, but I can’t be sure. All
I remember is that when we left the sun was sinking over the horizon,
and as Grandad carried me home, the leaves we had past on our way to
the field were now this golden brown blanket that crunched beneath his
feet, and Alan was walking in front of us swinging his golf club at every
leave in his path. I must have fallen asleep to that image on the walk home because
it’s the last thing from that day I remember.

***

Grandad
died later that year, and to this day this is the only clear memory I
have of him. It always makes me smile, and at the same time it always
makes me a little sad. I wish I’d gotten to know what he was like,
and I wish that he were around when I was growing up. I’m glad
though that I have this memory and that it’s such a happy one. I’ve
heard various other stories about Grandad and me from my parents, and
other family members, but none of those stories will ever mean as
much to me as that day.

It’s
something I’m forever grateful I remembered so clearly, especially
considering how young I was at the time. It just shows that no matter how young your kids, or grandkids are, simple gestures like this sometimes stick with them, and give them memories to look back at and smile about when they grow up.

I bought a copy of EA Sports NFL Head Coach yesterday. I had heard a few negative things about it, and a few positives, but in the end I decided to go for it simply because I’ve been waiting for a game like this for a very long time.

At first I was going to buy it for my PS2, only to discover that EA, for some reason, only produces and ships this game in North America. The potential market they’re missing out on over here in the UK is huge. We love the sport too, and I know a few people who prefer the off season management part of Madden than the actual game.

So in the end I used their digital download, and downloaded the PC version. It finally finished downloading around 7.30pm last night, and when I next looked at the clock it was 3am. Now I don’t really want to make a snap judgment of the game, but at the moment I’m loving it. Once I play it more I’ll be able to be a little more objective, but until then, the game rocks.

After almost two weeks of relaxing, booze filled holidays, I went back to work yesterday, and into an unbelievable mountain of things to do. Not just little unimportant things, but some major projects that we’re doing need to have a whole lot of pieces of the puzzle completed by Friday.

Now normally when you come back from a holiday you have very little motivation or desire to be there, but when you come back from a holiday, have this mountain of things to do, you’re on you own supporting the company for two weeks, and you just know that you’re going to have to work late every night to get things done, the emotions you go through are a touch extreme due to the stress. It takes you almost to cracking point.

Today I’ve managed to organise myself a little better though, so I’m not catching up with everything, and I have clear goals set for each day. Even so, the next time someone calls me with a stupid fucking question about how their mouse-mat is the wrong shade of blue, or asks me what their username is even though they usethefuckingthingeveryday, I may go a little crazy.

Deep breaths…relax….calm….I’m a leaf on the wind. (There’s a little tip of the hat to Serenity for you folks)

****

If I get the time at some point today I’ll post about my two weeks holiday in Edinburgh, with my friends over from Canada, lots of Edinburgh Festival stuff, and anything else I can remember from the drunken haze that was my life over last two weeks.

Last night Jayme, Steve, and myself went to see One Man Star Wars Trilogy at the Edinburgh Festival, performed by Canadian Actor Charles Ross. Basically he breaks down each of the films into 20 minute segments where he performs, on his own, all the dialogue, space ship scenes, sings the music and runs around the stage like a madman.

His website describes the show as:

"A one-hour, high energy, nonstop blast through the first three Star Wars films. The catch is, there’s only one cast member. Charles Ross, the writer and solo performer, spent too much of his childhood in a galaxy far, far away- adulthood has been similar. Ross plays all the characters, recreates the effects, sings the music, flies the ships, and fights both sides of the battles."

You have to really know the films to get the most out of the show, but if like me you grew up with these movies and you’ve watched them countless times, then this show will have you in tears of laughter.

I had seen a clip of the show on the web a few months ago, (I can’t remember where unfortunately), so I was already really looking forward to the performance. The anticipation for the show was heightened further when we arrived, only to be greeted by two Stormtroopers playing the role of ushers to the venue. Call me a geek if you must but it got the blood pumping.

I really can’t recommend this show enough. It was a fantastic performance even though it was the opening night. I have no doubts it will get even better in the next two weeks. Go see it if your in Edinburgh, I guarantee you’ll have fun.