Step Back In Time

So said Huey Lewis and His News...and that's what I have found myself doing in the last month or so when I look back on the past few weekends. Nostalgia can be a dangerous thing. Wallow in it too much and everything in it's current state seems, well, not very good to be honest. So here is a brief, super fast trip down memory lane. Hold on to your hat of choice.

In The Endzone!
Gary Imlach and that cheesy pho-American dude had a lot to answer for when it came to Sunday night homework in the 1980s. Their Channel 4 American Football show was staple viewing in Chez Parko and I quickly found myself rooting (you don't support, you root in America) for the New York Giants. They won Superbowls '87 and '91 so I was first in queue when they came to play a proper league game against the hapless Miami Dolphins at the brand spanking new and rather glossy Wembley Stadium last month.


As an event the US do it like no other and so it proved despite the rain and the odd token anglo touch like having Lewis Hamilton tossing the coin! The game was a great one off but I'm not sure with the constant stop start play whether I could become a regular match goer. In the end, it rained some more, the cheerleaders got the biggest cheer of the night and the Giants won. Just like in the 80s then.

My flickr set

Carter USM
My first stage dive was at a Carter USM gig in 1991. It hurt, I think I lost my shoe and as soon as I landed I wanted to do it again. I lived to see them numerous other times as part of my gig going days when your hair was long, you agonised over how many holes to have in your DMs and every other indie fan owned that Nirvana smiley-confused face t-shirt.

And then I kinda outgrew them. Which is natural. I don't think either Jim Bob or Fruitbat noticed I had gone but the albums lived on and occasionally I would dig out a classic such as Shopper's Paradise or The Only Living Boy In New Cross. You don't just forget those days and nor it seems did the taxman, which is the only explanation I can see for their one off reunion gig last month.


Ticket in hand I was there with Rik and a few of his mates to catch all the old tunes, to see how the indie chicks of yesteryear had since fared (on the whole the consensus was "disappointing") and to drink cheap pissy lager at Brixton Academy just like the old days. Towards the end, lost, sweaty and on my own I ventured into the mosh pit along with the other 35 year olds and held on for dear life. It was as awful as it was brilliant. I was only disappointed that Philip Schofield didn't show up for old time's sake.

Carter USM HQ

Those Years of Wonder

One of the obscure Freeview channels that gets 38 viewers a day has been showing old reruns of my favourite childhood programme The Wonder Years the last month or so and so I have been busy reminiscing over the old escapades of Kevin, Paul and Winnie. While some of the episodes still come across as slightly twee and saccharine fueled there is no hiding the quality of the production and the acting. It was and remains top drawer.

Unlike modern day programmes they knew how to end the series and it felt like they had successfully avoided the obvious by ensuring that Kevin and Winnie went their separate ways. What is interesting though and a tad surprising is that since then few of the cast have gone on to anything of any real note. Fred Savage was out acted by his own facial mole in Austin Powers and the last time I saw Dan Lauria he was squabbling with aliens as President of the United States in Independence Day. It does though give me a fine excuse to share with you just how Winnie grew up though!