| Subject: Re: Rough Justice |
Author:
Terry Walton
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Date Posted: 18:32:50 05/02/05 Mon
In reply to:
Dave P.
's message, "Rough Justice" on 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.....................
Dave, with what you just said, I can also recall a thing about a snowball. As you said, the snow was deep in those day's, or were we litle short arses. I remember coming home from school, and seeing this van by the local shop, by the way on the side was written Bisto, I thought that I would slam a snowball at the side of this van as I couldn't see anyone in there. The next thing that I new was this bloke jumping out of the back of the van and giving me a mighty crack across the head, I got my own back. I waited for him to come out of the van with his arms full of his wares, and then placed this snowball right in his face, causing him to slip and drop his wares. Is'nt revenge sweet. My ears where ringing for weeks.
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