Following the passing of a great Uncle recently, I found myself looking at loads of old family pictures. I was once again reminded of my Grandad, who left this earth a long time ago now. He managed jazz bands and clubs in the 60s, and it’s only in adulthood I pine for more information on this. Sadly, I’ll have to wait until I join him upstairs *looks up*
In the meantime, he’ll continue to pop in and out of my head on an intermittent basis, like when I see a nice t-shirt that reminds me of the colour of shirts he wore. We’d arrive for Sunday dinner and interrupt him listening to his music on massive headphones, smoking cigs and using a standalone ashtray on a stick. Great days.
Bit morbid this post isn’t it? Sorry, I’m fine. I’m not gonna drive to Dundee in my bare feet or owt. Just, you know, doing thinking and stuff. This t-shirt also reminds me of the type of thing they wore in Wonder Years, which is a bit more upbeat. Or maybe something Dennis Wilson may have worn to drunkenly gatecrash a party. Yes, that’s the ticket.
Anyway, if you like it, head to Hip, you know the dance.