mostly david ephgrave

When I was a toddler, way back in the mists on time (1983ish), I went to nursery at a place called the Little Folks’ Lab.  The name suggests my childhood was a scientific experiment, but it wasn't. I wasn't raised in a cage and forced to eat lipstick whilst chain-smoking every brand of cigarette under the sun. I don't know why the people who set up the Little Folks’ Lab went for such an analytical under-the-microscope-sounding name, but whatever the reason, it clearly worked, as it drew my parents in. So it was that I spent the period of my life between drooling at home and drooling at infant school, drooling in this Stevenage-based child-minding facility.  (...which makes it sound like a borstal.) I remember my time at nursery as being pretty magical. It was a wonderful place, with all the best toys of the age: Big Yellow Teapot, Fuzzy Felt, Mr Frosty and the like - but the most exciting thing of all was their Wendy House. It w...

The disdain with which the driver said 'Yes' today when I asked whether his bus went to Hitchin was truly off the scale. He couldn’t believe I wasn’t privy to this information. How could I not know? All public transport marked "Baldock" goes to Hitchin. You just have to read between the fucking lines. Anyone boarding his vehicle should know his roster and routes. He shouldn’t need to impart them. He’s driven the 635 on-and-off for fifteen years, for Christ’s sake. He knows the journey inside out. He drives it instinctively, without thought. Then some young upstart has the nerve to ask which towns he passes through, as if the one-word destination on the front of his bus wasn’t enough. It reminds me of the time I met my friend Steve for one of our affectionately-titled Old Man Pub Crawls. It coincided with Quiz Night at our favourite pub. We decided to pop by on a whim to see if we could participate. The landlady’s tone on being asked if there was space c...