"10.35 and I hope I’ve made the right decision.
Heart is beating;
I’m alive,
But I don’t call this living."
"Don’t go in the
bamboo!" These were the chilling words of warning I’d hear endless times as a kid. From my
parents. From my teachers. Everyone seemed spooked by bamboo. These days it’s
all pubescent vampires and post-apocalyptic zombies. Back in the Seventies it was
giant grass.
There were
tales. Told by flickering candlelight on cruel October nights. Well, some of
them. Others were told under the flickering school hall strip lights in morning
assembly. Of children being shredded alive by running through the bamboo patch on
the school playing field. "Hold it there! What?!" Yes, exactly. I’m not sure who
the school thought they were fooling with this. How come these grisly deaths by
menacing perennial evergreens never appeared in the local paper? And why didn’t
they just chop the bamboo patch down? I’m pretty sure our Head Master was cribbing
his assembly notes from a Stephen King book.
And then
there was the Bamboo Man. Who lived in the woods near our house. Apparently. "Stay away from the Bamboo Man!" "Is he made of bamboo then?" "Er, no. He lives in
the bamboo." "Well, the name needs some work." Of course, the tales of a Bamboo Man just made you want to play in the woods even more. Would we see him? What
did he eat? Did he steal those Micronauts I hid in the silver birch last week?
It would seem Bamboo Man was only visible to adults though, as none of us kids ever spotted him.
Despite continually throwing rocks and assorted masonry in to the bamboo to
flush him out. Kids, eh?
Three decades
later though, I hear he’s still dwelling there. Well, that’s what my eleven-year-old
nephew has been told. Surely this must be Son Of Bamboo Man by now though? And
why is all this bamboo still around? Is someone panda farming in the area? Don’t
people own scythes anymore?
Spotify linky:
P.S. It's always a delight when I open an album sleeve and some forgotten treasure spills out. Today it was this 12-page catalogue...
That backwards 'D' in Adam was my first introduction to the joys of typography.
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