From Navy Blue Knickers to the Driving Test

By Hal T. Strapel

This book required a lifetime of experience and sixteen years to write. Mind you, there was an eight-year gap in the middle when the author had to return to full-time, salaried employment. The chapters are presented alphabetically, so in theory it is possible to take any chapter, and read it in its own right. Once a reader has read all twenty-six chapters, he or she will have a sum of all the parts: a completed ‘jigsaw’ of Hal T. Strapel’s story. Truth or fiction? Let the reader decide.
Jane C.:
“In ‘Turning Thai’, I think a very vivid picture of Thailand is presented — it all sounded very exotic to me sitting in dull old middle England. Lots of well-described local colour and all fluently articulated. The author met up with some colourful characters and gives an honest appraisal of how they affected him as a traveller in uncharted territory. There is definitely an eye for detail and the sights, sounds and smells leap off the page. I had a good laugh at the cockroach episode, which sounds very callous of me, but it resonated with me as I had a similar sort of experience in Sicily with a very large spider.”
John H.:
“I found ‘Bilious Belligerent Bowels’ highly entertaining, particularly when Hal was describing the attentions of the nurse and her colleagues.
Charlie H.:
“I found ‘Queenish Quirks’ an intriguing and easy read that connects cultures in a relatable way.”
Lee F.:
“I enjoyed reading ‘Lust for Lingerie’. It sounds voyeuristic in itself! As a man who spent his working life in ladies knickers I can see the author is knowledgeable!”
Johnny B.:

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jun 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398461765

Hal T. Strapel

The author was born in Cambridge, England in 1951. He did his schooling in the city or surrounding area, and then spread his wings in 1970. He followed a chequered career, mainly because of his desire to play music. The music industry is not the easiest avenue in which to earn a steady income, so assorted employment was required to keep the wolf from the door. Having a very independent character, self-employment suited him the best, and he made successes in both retail and educational fields. His love of travel and foreign countries finally saw him move to Thailand in 1998.

Book preview

About the Author

The author was born in Cambridge, England in 1951. He did his schooling in the city or surrounding area, and then spread his wings in 1970. He followed a chequered career, mainly because of his desire to play music. The music industry is not the easiest avenue in which to earn a steady income, so assorted employment was required to keep the wolf from the door. Having a very independent character, self-employment suited him the best, and he made successes in both retail and educational fields. His love of travel and foreign countries finally saw him move to Thailand in 1998.

Copyright Information ©

Hal T. Strapel 2022

The right of Hal T. Strapel to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

All of the events in this memoir are true to the best of the author’s memory. The views expressed in this memoir are solely those of the author.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398461758 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398461765 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

The author would like to thank everyone who is mentioned in this book for letting him share part of their lives with him, and leaving him with so many treasured memories. Without them this book could not have happened. This is true, of course, of family members. Sadly, many of them are no longer with us, but live on in the book. To the ones who are still alive and kicking, many thanks for both the memories and the support.

Special thanks should go to Jane and her husband and all the other photo subjects for giving permission for their photos to be used; to John, AKA John Drover, an author in his own right (who also gained a first in English at Cambridge University) who gave his continued encouragement; and Mick for being the author’s best friend for over fifty years!

Of course, none of this would have been possible were it not for the opportunity given by Austin Macauley Publishers to publish the work, and make it available for all to read worldwide. My sincere thanks and appreciation go out to them for offering me this great chance.

Foreword

Hal had often thought that he would like to write. Roy Harper, a hippie folk singer of the sixties, wrote and sang a short song entitled, The Observer of Life, which Hal used to quite like. In later years, Hal began to think that was him: Joe Cool, the observer of life or, as Andy once said to him at a party, ‘For Christ’s sake, Hal, let go!’ Hal didn’t know what he wanted to write; songs, poems (No, not poems, he didn’t like poetry!), a novel? Anyway, he had been jotting things down and making mental notes for thirty-odd years, so he finally figured that he’d better get something on paper before it was too late.

As he had always tried to entertain, be positive and look on the bright side, he always had an open eye or ear for humour, and, like his ideas, he’d collected bits and pieces and stashed them away. What he decided to do now was to combine the two and put a snippet of humour (well, something he thinks is amusing) at the end of each chapter, perhaps with the odd aside dotted here and there. Hal T. Strapel: This is his story.

Introduction

It had been the war to end all wars, but twenty-one years later, they were at it again; an international struggle to defeat the tyrant and restore freedom to the western world. If they’d failed, Hal would be writing this in German now, or struggling even more to put the English language together into some semblance of order.

So how had this war affected Hal? Well, he wasn’t a war baby, his parents had been too slow off the mark for that, but what’s six years between friends? Rationing and conscription were still in force, and he still has the remnants of an old Ration Book tucked away somewhere with coupons for long-awaited sausage and egg meals that were never partaken of. Conscription was the duty to go and spend two years exchanging bemused glances with the conscripts next to you and asking, ‘What are we doing here?’ Luckily, they abolished it a few years before Hal’s tour was due.

Of course, he was too young to notice all this at the time, but in adult life he came to the conclusion that rationing and conscription must have seemed like a kind of punishment at the time. Hadn’t we won the war? Shouldn’t we be rolling in it? The end result was that the rationed items became like forbidden fruit, and when rationing finally bit the dust it was time to indulge: To the victor the spoils! And for the next decade, consuming vast amounts of eggs, bacon, sausages, butter, and later sugar and chocolate, were signs of an affluent family; obvious marks that you were ‘doing well’. Research into diet in the seventies showed that it would probably have been healthier to stay with the rations!

Aquatic Antics

Hal was an aquatic goods retailer for twelve years, and in the twentieth century such a statement must, by implication, mean that he was relatively successful in this endeavour. In fact, he took it up in an attempt to find something that he would not get too bored with, but that would bring him in enough money to keep him in ‘the manner to which he could get accustomed’. In other chapters one can read the tale of the neurotic cat and the William Tell Overture and one or two other connected stories. It was a bit of a roller-coaster ride. As Hal had not been to business school, he made many mistakes for which he had to pay, sometimes dearly. Over the years it brought him many new friends and acquaintances, comfortable accommodation and clothing, booze and cigarettes and one or two good holidays. In this chapter are one or two amusing anecdotes of times that can be had by petfish specialists.

Akeman Street was in the heart of a small estate of council-built houses that appeared in the nineteen-thirties; Hal’s dad used to cut through it to get to school sometimes. It had quite quickly gained a reputation as the new area in town for miscreants and ne’er-do-wells. If there was a crime reported in the city, Akeman Street would be one of the first areas visited by police looking for suspects. Many criticised Hal for setting up there, but it was one of the few affordable options available in the city after Hal’s first retail space mysteriously burned down. (It was in a building that had been leased by Clive Beaumont-Owen, the local businessman whose name had become somewhat synonymous with arson.) Hal felt it a kind of challenge to try and alter the twenty-year-old reputation, and help give a new lease of life to the battered area. (And there was free parking right outside the door!)

One or two memorable ‘brushes’ with the area had given it a kind of mystique or fate to Hal as well—his dad’s old school, the bint who bashed him with her handbag, and local strumpets. Hal moved into the end shop in a row of five on the estate. There was a greengrocer, a newsagent/tobacconist, a baker, a grocer, and Hal took over from the outgoing butcher. We say ‘outgoing’, but in fact Derek Holley didn’t leave per se. He still ran a wholesale butchery that occupied the rear outbuildings, and Hal took on a sublease of the shop and flat above it with an option to take the full lease should Mr Holley depart. This he eventually did, but not completely. The back building of the property was in fact a walk-in fridge. It was too old and dilapidated to move, so Holley sold it to a couple of bankrupt cheese brokers. Thus, Brian and Jenny Watkins and Cheese to Please came into Hal’s life! Mr Holley had a partner who once confided to Hal; ‘The art of butchery died the minute Derek Holley entered the trade.’ Hal witnessed this one day when he saw Derek slicing chops off a side of pork ten-to-the-dozen on a band saw!

Hal certainly roused the local kids’ curiosity when he opened, and they would filter in on the weekends and after school, gradually making larger and larger groups wandering around the shop looking wide-eyed at the contents of the aquariums. Hal was correct in his assumption that his core of faithful customers would follow him there too. It became a daily chore to herd up the children when their number grew too great and usher them out of the door.

One day Billy, a local tyke who lived over the road, turned on Hal in the doorway and brandished a rusty steak knife at Hal. His friend Shaun was urging him to, Go on, give it to him, Billy! Let him have it!, but Hal stole Billy’s thunder and grabbed his hand, taking the weapon from his grasp. Billy’s parents came over an hour or so later, fearful and contrite, but Hal just handed over the knife saying, Boys will be boys! That was about the scariest event during Hal’s nine years at the address, and he made several new regular customers in the area.

Whilst at the Talk of the Town, Mr Beaumont-Owen’s third building to succumb to fire, not too many humorous incidents occurred. Hal’s rented space was at the foot of the staircase that led to the upper sales-floors, and one day a dear old girl came down the stairs with the family, and was obviously struck by the display of fish-tanks. (She must have missed it on the way up.) She brought the family in and they were admiring the tanks when she said, Oh look, they’ve even got their own little drinking bowl! This remark was extremely surprising, but looking at the tank she was pointing to Hal saw that the little circular internal thermometer that normally stuck to the glass had come away from the glass and sunk to the gravel where it rested face-up, its face reflecting the light to give it the appearance of a water bowl.

Hal had a nice commission soon after he opened; he was to install a tank in the director’s office of a local manufacturer; once installed he was to visit on a monthly basis, and keep the tank clean and replenished with plants and fish. The directors had a sturdy table especially made to stand the large tank on, and Hal had the tank made to measure, and spent about fifteen minutes checking the surface of the table-top with a spirit level before going ahead with the installation. All went well and the tank looked great, but Hal had a call the following morning; the switchboard in reception was awash! The base of the tank had cracked and the water drenched the expensive woollen carpet under the table before seeping through to the reception area below.

Luckily for Hal, the directors didn’t sue and Hal paid for the carpet to be dried and stretched, and for the tank to be repaired, and the commission went ahead as originally planned, but this time with a layer of expanded polystyrene between the tank and the table top (the accumulated weight of the tank and the water had distorted the level surface of the table.) Hal maintained the contract until he sold the business, and then went to service the tank as an agent for his successor in the business.

Hal experienced another case of a cracked bottom in a large tank, and this time the customer was a wealthy businessman who was whispered to be part of the local ‘mafia’. It was with some trepidation that Hal made the journey back to where they had delivered the tank just a day or two previously. He knew that polystyrene was not the problem as he had left a plentiful supply with the customer who preferred to make the transitional installation himself. He had custom-built a plinth in the centre of one of his large living rooms, and was going to house his large fish, currently inhabiting a regular-sized tank at the side of the room, in this central feature.

When they arrived and emptied the tank, it became apparent that the customer had glued the polystyrene tiles, and the glue had melted them causing the even surface to become humped and hard. When he realised it was his mistake, the customer footed the bill for all repairs and paid Hal generously for his time in the transportation and reinstallation—what a relief!

The secondary school near Akeman Street was co-ed and held no particular interest for Hal, even though his cousins had attended the school, and he knew the uniform requirements used to be navy blue knickers for the girls. By the mid-seventies the requirement for pupils to wear school uniform had been relaxed quite considerably. The children in the neighbouring houses were juniors or very young teens and of no particular interest to him as far as his fetishes were concerned. There was one family two doors down though; a mother taking care of her three children whose ages ranged between 8 and 12. The mother was probably not much older than Hal and although he didn’t see much of her, what he did see gave him the idea that she knew all about sex and wasn’t above indulging in it frequently—full of fun and mischief!

Moyb was the youngest; a boy who was quiet, but fit and lean, his older sister was also quiet and very attractive facially and the oldest was Charmaine; a precocious and mischievous girl who had a real ‘look’ about her. Hal later realised that with the combination of her dark, knowledgeable eyes and her full smile the ‘look’ was of the Bardot-esque quality—Hal was a little mesmerised by her and knew he would have to be very careful. Charmaine was one of the regular visitors in the groups of kids who came in and although she was a little nervous at first her confidence grew quickly, and it was as if she knew that Hal liked to watch her when she came into the shop.

She came in with a friend (Victoria/Vivien?) one day and they made the usual rounds, talking quietly and then getting interested in the coloured gravel, which Hal had on display to sell for the bottom of the aquariums. The two girls collected a small, colourful handful each and then came to show Hal. He was quite touched by this communication, but was anxious not to raise suspicions or start rumours about him encouraging the young girls so he told them that they were stealing. They never came in again!

After he’d been there a year or so, he noticed that one of the girls wore navy blues when they were displayed on the washing line. The mother very obligingly left them out one fine night and Hal was able to satisfy his curiosity. He guessed from the size that they belonged to the middle daughter, and it was then that Hal discovered the new fashion of the stretch, cotton/nylon fabric in favour of the old cotton interlock—a small disappointment, but a treasured memento for many years. Every so often an Asian gentleman (Pakistani?) would come to visit the family and Hal guessed that he was probably the father of the children, or if not, that the mother had a preference for darker-skinned gents.

After two years or so of Hal having the shop in Akeman Street the two girls disappeared for about two months. When they returned they seemed to have become young women overnight, and added to that both had very generously proportioned bosoms! The middle daughter soon started to have a chain of regular boyfriends, and Hal overheard her in conversation in a city centre café one day, and discovered that she was very well-spoken and that her conversation was quite intelligent. Charmaine became a bit of a minx and it wasn’t long before she’d quit school and was leading a bit of a wild life. They didn’t have a lot to do with Hal, but one day Charmaine appeared around the front area of the shop at closing time.

Hal had quite a lot of stuff to unload from the back of his car and it took several trips. Charmaine kept threatening to go into Hal’s flat and run upstairs and finally she did just that. Hal shouted for her to come down, but of course she didn’t comply. He soon finished unloading and started up the stairs to evict the naughty teenager, or give her a good sorting out! When she heard him coming up, she went into the bathroom and Hal heard the lock click shut. ‘This is going to be interesting!’ he thought. It so happened that his friend, Roger, had called in to see him during the day. He was over on holiday from his job in Dubai, but he didn’t stay long as Hal was busy; he did stay long enough to use Hal’s upstairs bathroom though, and as Hal gained the top of the stairs and approached the locked bathroom, the door clicked and flew open and Charmaine ran past Hal and down the stairs, all the air of fun and frolics gone.

When Hal looked into the bathroom, he saw the reason for the girl’s hasty retreat—a foot-long turd lying in the toilet! Thanks Rog! (He was probably getting his own back for that smack in the mouth all those years back!) Charmaine never tried to gain access to Hal’s accommodation again; at least not without ringing the bell first. Knock-door-bunk was quite popular with the local kids for a while, and Charmaine used to use Hal’s doorstep as a kind of ‘refuge’ from time to time over the next few years. By then Charmaine had gone on to less innocent activities, and had started to sell cheap tricks for the price of a packet of cigarettes. It occurred to Hal then that her mum was probably on the game, too, and Charmaine went down the slippery slope to glue-sniffing and getting wasted any way she could.

Hal used to fantasise about ‘coming to her rescue’, bringing her home for a shower, a good meal and a little fun and frolics together (he thought about paying a visit to her mum, too!) A policeman customer of Hal’s disillusioned his fantasies by telling Hal that Charmaine did have a fantastic body. (He’d seen most of it; naked below a billowing, low-neck-lined dress that exposed all as she was loaded into the back of a police van one night.) Sadly, the stench of body odour was over-powering and her long dark hair was matted and crawling with lice!

Marcia was another of the young local lasses, and as she entered her teens she developed a love interest in Hal’s young assistant, Trevor. She would often come into the shop and use browsing the display tanks as an excuse to moon over him. Hal had no particular objection to this, especially when she started to practice her gymnastics in the shop, and do handstands propping her legs up against the tanks. In doing this, her skirt would fall above her head and her navy blue school knickers would be on full display for several minutes. Hal had strong urges to rush up and get his camera to take some photos, but he thought the word would get out! Sadly, Marcia turned into a minx who went on to less illuminating activities, and she ended up in a remand home, and then on to selling herself and, like Charmaine, becoming a semi sex-slave to various ‘sugar daddies’.

Trevor and Hal had several amusing interludes, but perhaps they were more amusing after the event. They were commissioned to clean out a pond, which was in the garden of a large house out of town. Hal bought some Wellington boots especially for the job, and he didn’t try them on until after they’d arrived on site. He then discovered that he’d mistaken Size 9s for Size 6s! As the shop he’d bought them at was on the other side of town and time was of the essence Hal minced around the pond in the size sixes (taking much longer to do the job as a consequence.) When they’d finished the cleaning and refurbishment Hal went in to get the bill settled leaving Trevor to ‘… just tie those two nets together!’

The pond was large and circular and too big for the largest size of covering pool nets, so Hal had brought two and a reel of nylon to tie them together. Trevor soon found that the nylon thread had a mind of its own, and the knots would spring apart as soon as he’d tied them. Hal was some time explaining the bill to the old lady, and was amazed to find that Trevor hadn’t finished. The two of them made three of four atrocious ties and left the two nets lying over the pond. Hal cleaned up the Wellingtons and took them back to change them.

Trevor and Hal did several jobs together and they sometimes needed to fill up with fuel on the way to their destination. Hal would often scare Trevor on these occasions by standing over the fuel nozzle at the self-service filling stations, filling the tank with a lit cigarette drooping from his mouth. Hal gave up smoking in time to prevent his live cremation while indulging in this habit! The reason that the two of them would need to go (apart from when it was a pond job!) was that people often liked to order tanks that were larger than average and it would require two people to engineer it into position.

On one of these occasions, the customer, Tony, had ordered the tank ‘… just wide enough to get it up the stairs.’ They were to deliver the tank in the evening and luckily Hal’s dad had called around on his way home and decided to … come along for the ride. There wasn’t room enough for the four men to carry the tank holding a corner each and thus Hal and Trevor had to carry it up the stairs; Trevor at the top, Hal at the bottom. As the weight started to increase with the incline of the stairs, the tank started to slip from Trevor’s grasp and Hal’s back began to buckle under the strain and he had nothing left to ‘push’ the tank up towards Trevor.

Hal shouted to his dad and Tony to give his back a good push from below and by making himself the ‘sandwich filling’ in the glass box and human chain, they managed to reach the top of the stairs with everything in one piece. Hal vowed then that if Tony ever moved house, he would emigrate before getting enlisted in the tank’s relocation!

Hal was alone on one commission; cleaning out a filthy fish tank. Usually, unless the tank needed to be moved, Hal would leave the fish and some water in the tank while carrying out the clean-up and this is what he did on this occasion. He was lucky that it was a summer job, and the home was centrally-heated. As it had been a long while since the tank had been cleaned, it took a long time and a lot of removal of algae, water and gravel before Hal could see what he was doing. It was then that he discovered that the glass tube around the heater had been broken and the electrical elements were exposed to the water. If the thermostat had cut in Hal could have received a fatal shock!

One of Hal’s long-time regulars was a spina bifida victim who was disabled and lived in a local care home. He was only a young man and his wealthy family was obviously far too busy or proud to have him taken care of at home, and paid for him to stay at the hospital-like facility, visiting him infrequently. His main interest in life was his fish and he was allowed to keep several tanks, and he would save his allowance and come to visit Hal’s shop by taxi, spending quite a lot of money on each occasion. It became an un-spoken agreement between them that David would only shop at Hal’s establishment and by way of discount, or appreciation, Hal would sometimes help David to move or clean his tanks free of charge. When it came time for David to have a change of accommodation and move to a new room in the new, modern wing he asked for Hal’s help to move the tanks. Hal agreed and again took his dad who had offered to help. The job was going well, and Hal was on the third tank when he opened the filter to clean out the dirty media. He had no idea how long this filter had been switched off, but it certainly wasn’t that morning—the stench was appalling; smelling just like the local sewage farm and stinking out the whole corridor. Several of the occupants who had not gone to work opened their doors to complain loudly, many from beneath a handkerchief clutched to their faces! Hal could not get the smell from his nose for two days!

They sold decorative wood to put in the fish tanks; the dark wood, attractively called Bogwood, would need soaking before putting into the tank, and even then the acidity would slowly leech out of the wood and discolour the water, but it was supposed to benefit both fish and plants. Trevor was having a hard time selling some ornaments for a customer’s tank one day and he suggested the wood to them. The customer was somewhat surprised and said, Won’t it float?

Oh no, replied Trevor. It can’t, it’s petrified! Trevor’s customer was the only one in the shop at the time and when Hal overheard this explanation, he got a severe bout of the giggles, much to Trevor’s consternation as he thought he’d made a mistake. He hadn’t, of course, as the wood had lain in the peat bogs for many years, but the image that came to Hal’s mind was of a terrified piece of wood, quaking at the bottom of the aquarium, too scared to rise up to the surface!

Ross, a drinking buddy of Hal’s, had started his own landscape gardening business, and on one occasion came to see Hal as his commission had requested that Ross’s project include a decorative water feature. The contract was for a large manufacturer who wanted a decorative mini-lake in the front of their factory, which could also act as an overspill in the case of flooding or pollution on the premises. Hal explained that the most decorative plants for such a feature would be lilies, which had very attractive flowers, but were also hardy annuals that would slowly become more attractive and could withstand a little harsh treatment.

Ross said that he wanted the feature to look attractive when he finished it and not two or three years down the line, and Hal told him that could be tricky as it was usually only young (small) plants that were on offer and that large plants would be both difficult to obtain and expensive. Ross enquired the cost and then how many would be needed per square yard to make an appealing first impression. Hal told him between two to six pounds (or more) and about four should do the trick. Ross took out his calculator and did a few quick sums, and then he burst out laughing and said, Thirty thousand water lilies, please! The two of them couldn’t stop laughing for the rest of the morning.

When the shop first opened, Hal used air-driven, circulatory filters to keep the display tanks clean. The air was supplied by a large and noisy, belt-driven pump, which supplied air to a large plastic drainpipe that Hal had fixed to the wall above the tanks running around three of the four showroom walls. The thinner airlines were tapped from this drainpipe down to the tank filters. For over a year a spare belt that Hal had purchased along with the pump, hung alongside it in the pump cupboard. When the original belt finally broke Hal confidently broke out the spare; only to find that it was a size too small! Of course, this happened late in the afternoon when all of the shops were closing.

Hal’s was the only shop in the area and he knew no-one with a shop outside of London; his friend, Robin, ran a shop there, in Hampstead. He quickly phoned Robin who told him that he had a spare, but that as he was going out that evening he’d hang the spare on the back door-knob of his shop and Hal could pay him for it later. Now the decision; the broken belt had to be constantly repaired with duct-tape to prevent the tanks from losing oxygen and the fish dying. Who would stay at the shop and maintain the old belt and who would ride to London? Trevor had just invested in a new Triumph Bonneville and was keen to ride it on a long distance, but didn’t know where Robin’s shop was. Hal knew where the shop was, but was keen to finish the bookcases that he was building to make display cabinets for aquarist books, and he was better at repairing the old belt than Trevor.

It was decided that Trevor would go and Hal would stay. That was fine until it started to rain! This was in the days before mobile telephones, and with the rain, Trevor found it very difficult to follow Hal’s directions to Robin’s shop; he had to make several phone calls to track the place down and then he couldn’t find the belt. (It had blown off the doorknob in the wind and rain!) Trevor finally got back, soaked to the skin, about five hours later. The bookcases were up and the new belt was put on, the fish survived and Trevor didn’t get sick, but it took him about three hours to thaw out! Hal bought two spares on his next trip to the wholesalers, but they didn’t need another as Hal changed the filter system the following year.

Hal’s was the only shop in the area that specialised in petfish, and it remained that way for about seven years. Then, with the rise in popularity of redundancies and the relatively obvious small success of Hal’s business, competitors started to appear in the region. This didn’t cause there to be more people keeping fish as pets; on the contrary, videos, computers and game machines were increasing in popularity, and people were also spending more time in their gardens with barbeques and the like. The number of regular customers was, in fact, dwindling, and the competition merely meant that these fewer customers had to be ‘shared around’. Slowly, overheads increased and weekly takings decreased and thus, the profits dropped.

Trevor was finally forced to hand in his notice and go off in search of more lucrative employ—he became a bus driver. Trevor slogged on alone wondering whether he shouldn’t just give up and declare himself bankrupt—not a very confidence-building move when going on to one’s next employment! He decided to sink or swim and set about several cost-cutting measures to make things more profitable. Keeping the tanks presentable alone was a difficult task—like trying to paint the Forth Bridge in one’s spare time? Hal decided to try and install one of the new centralised filter systems, which were becoming popular with many retail shops. This involved putting in a large ‘reservoir’ in which the heaters would be placed; from this the water would be pumped through several stages of filtration and then into the tanks, which would just contain gravel, fish and plants. He approached his bank manager with the proposition and a loan was agreed.

Hal went down to the wholesaler who sold the filtration equipment and announced, The man from Del Monte he say ‘Yes’! (referring to a popular advertisement which was being shown on TV at the time.) Thus, the ‘Del Monte system’ was born! Hal installed it himself (with some help from his friends) and from then on keeping the tanks clean was a minimal task and the fish enjoyed cleaner, fresher water. The tanks had to be custom-made with holes, into which individual taps and siphons were installed. To these taps pipes were fixed, which led either to the pump, or down to the central draining system. All of the pipe-work had to be cut to size, sanded and smoothed, cleaned and then glued. The cleaner and the glue were both of the inflammable kind and gave off fumes.

Hal, together with his friend Bob who had volunteered to help, were working on the system one evening with a view to finishing at around nine and going off to get a pint and something to eat at a pub. Before they knew it, it was eleven o’clock and the pubs and restaurants had closed. Hal didn’t remember going upstairs to his flat and Bob couldn’t remember driving home—both as high as kites on the fumes!

Over the years, Hal became quite friendly with many of his suppliers, but Derek and Diane were probably the closest that business acquaintances can get to being friends. They supplied him with most of his fish and plants, and had extended him quite a lot of credit from time to time. Hal had gone down to their new bungalow in Dorset to spend the weekend and swim in their pool and the three of them got on well together. One year Hal was invited to their fireworks bash and his girlfriend agreed to go (they had attended Derek and Diane’s Silver Wedding Anniversary party, too.) The fireworks bash was typical retailer one-upmanship with many of those invited trying to spend more than the other on dazzling fireworks. Hal just bought a standard Jumbo Selection.

When Hal and Pauline arrived most of the guests were there and everyone was enjoying a few strong, warm rum punches as insulation against the elements! It was then off down to the end of the garden for the well-organised show. Sadly, the frosty ground wouldn’t allow the rocket-launch bottle to bed in very firmly and the bottle fell over just after the second or third firework was lit. It shot straight into the fireworks box, which had been placed, everyone thought, very safely out of harm’s way (not allowing for toppling launch bottles!) Everyone bolted to a safe distance and then turned to watch the spectacular display, which lasted for about three minutes—fireworks, rockets, bangers, Catherine wheels going off in all directions, and then it was all over! (About five hundred pounds or more, it was estimated!) ‘Bloody good job!’ thought Hal. (It was freezing cold!)

Aquatic Antics—Addendum

A slightly more sombre addition: Hal eventually sold his business. A young hobbyist, Andrew Green, bought it from him, and Hal continued to use the shop to buy the bits and pieces for his servicing business. After a couple of years, Hal went off on his travels, and when he returned the business had moved. Hal went to visit Andrew in the new location about 100 miles away. Apparently, the local council at Akeman Street had raised the rent by over 100%. When Andrew enquired as to how they could justify the increase he was met with the usual ‘cost of living’, ‘property value increases’. Andrew asked them; ‘How am I supposed to make a profit?’ The officer replied, You’re not there to make a profit, you’re there to serve the community.—Civil service mentality! After a year or so at the new location Andrew’s business folded: ‘Green by name, green by nature’!

A fish on a dish is what many might wish

But the taste is decidedly bitter.

Then it’s too late, you swallowed the bait

And now you’re the bathroom sitter!

Bilious Belligerent Bowels

Not a particularly attractive title for a chapter, but it fitted well with the ‘Bs’ and there is a small story attached.

Hal has enjoyed fairly good health for most of his life. He had the usual measles and Chicken Pox, was inoculated (given a sugar cube) against polio, had his tonsils removed, broke his right arm (luckily, he’s left-handed), and a couple of doses (3) of gonorrhoea, and of course, there was his asthma! As the years have drawn on however, his stomach and digestion have been of some concern.

One would speculate that this is mostly due to poor diet, too much beer consumption and lack of exercise—end of story! It started with ‘shoulder indigestion’. This began while working full-time at the boys’ school. Hal’s son had just been born, so there was quite a lot of ‘new stress’ in Hal’s life. The indigestion seemed to centre on the left shoulder, but on one occasion it caused him to wake up in the early hours of the morning with extreme stomach pain. That is the only time he can remember when he tried sticking his fingers down his throat to make himself sick. (It wasn’t very successful.)

By the time the doctor’s surgery was open, Hal’s stomach was the size of a football. Apparently, this was caused by wind! Hal later rationalised that it was probably brought on by a bad sleeping position. However, the left-shoulder wind problem continued, and would move into the neck and finally the head. Massaging the left shoulder would always bring on burping.

After moving out of Bangkok, the shoulder problem eased, but seemed to be travelling up his neck. Massaging the neck discomfort also brought on burping. This coincided with greater daily usage of the computer.

A few years later, Hal started to get heart ‘palpitations’ nearly every time after he’d eaten lunch and these led to dizzy spells a few years later. A visit to the doc for a spell on the walking machine qualified Hal with a clean bill of health (heart-wise), but he was diagnosed with ‘paralysis symptoms’ and given medication for vertigo! Hal started to get fears about a ‘sweet smell’ that follows him around, thinking it may be cancer or gangrene hiding itself. Then he remembered the ‘headcolds’ he got when with his long-term girlfriend in the UK—dizziness that would sometimes lead to vomiting. Nowadays it could probably be put down to being in low-temp air-con.

When living in the UK, Hal would often have a Guinness binge (followed by ten packets of peanuts, so he could pebbledash the house walls the next day!) A spicy Indian curry would often ‘round off’ a good night out on the beer. (The curries in Thailand are not the same!) Once in his thirties, long binges would often bring on vomiting the following afternoon—getting old!

Nowadays, there’s not a lot of indigestion, but generally a lack of appetite, mostly due to ‘not feeling hungry’. Way back, it crossed Hal’s mind that maybe these symptoms were signs of a cancer moving in his body. He’s never sought medical advice on this since the morning of the ‘bloated stomach’ clinic visit.

A ‘special offer’ health check in Bangkok did bring to light one issue though: gall bladder problems. Chronic gallstones were diagnosed. Surgical removal was the only treatment, and the clinic had 2 options: laparoscopy (fast recovery) costing 40,000 baht, or an incision, which would cost 8,000 baht but need 3 weeks to recover from. Hal decided to wait!

About 3 years later he went to a hospital in the suburbs (where he was now living.) There, the surgeon told him the laparoscopy would cost 100,000 baht, and the incision 60,000 baht! By now, the condition was getting more serious and causing loss of sleep. The consultant/surgeon told Hal to ‘Call me a day or two before you want to come in for the op.’ Hal called him two weeks later, and when he went into the hospital the laparoscopy cost had risen to 120,000 baht! Hal was tempted to walk out, but the surgeon assured him the cost would be no higher so he went ahead and produced his health insurance card. The next day, Hal left the hospital after paying 10,000 baht: his percentage of the costs!

When you go to hospital for operations on your stomach, your body hair needs to be shaved prior to the operation. This is great fun in Thailand!