| Subject: Rough Justice |
Author:
Dave P.
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Date Posted: 22:04:12 05/01/05 Sun
Just been having a little thunk about my last message, reference the 'Laughing Policeman'. I remember those days, growing up in the late fourties and the fifties, and the days when we still had the 'beat' policeman. In those days the policeman had to be of a minimum height (5' 10" I think) but most were around 6ft and they seemed, to me at least, that they were mostly middle aged (well at youngest, late twenties). I remember the huge amount of respect that we, as kids, treated them with too. In those days it was still acceptable for the local plod to dish out a 'thick-ear' to any young miscreant that had the misfortune to be caught in the act but didn't necessarily deserve to be dragged through the legal system. I can still vividly recall my own taste of swift justice.
It was a, deep into, winter afternoon and I was walking home from school, along the Mosely Road. I must have been all of 8 years old, and the snow was about 3ft deep, crisp and even. Kids nowadays don't believe us when we tell them that we had to walk back and forth to school, four times a day (unless we were lucky enough to stay dinners!) and that my school was probably a good 2 - 2.1/2 miles away from my home, even in the city. Anyway, back to the story. So there I was trudging along in the snow, on a busy main road when I saw this huge pantechnicon approaching me. Without hesitation, I grabbed a couple of handfuls of snow and molding a wicked snowball, let fly at the huge side of this behemoth, with the satisfying result of a terrific BOOM! reverberating from what must have been an empty cargo space. People all around me jumped and ducked and flinched and the driver of the lorry slammed on his anchors. I, obviously, by this time was in a flat sprint away from the scene of the crime. After about a hundred yards, in 10 sec's, I started to stroll along as if I was as innocent as the day I was born, failing to see the plod who had witnessed the whole shenanigan. The first I knew he was there, was when my head exploded and a terrific pain shot through my, near frozen, lughole. Immediately, I burst into tears and through my ringing ears I heard him tell me to "Never do anything like that again, as I could have caused a very nasty accident" and I was dismissed, straight off home. Needless to say, arriving home still blatting, I received short shrift from my mum when I told my sorry tale and was lucky she didn't tell my dad, or I would have got another 'thick ear' to match. I never threw snowballs at traffic again though. Those were the days.....................
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