Don’t Believe Everything They Tell You.

I make a conscious effort not to surrender to the potential for misty eyed nostalgia that exists for good or ill within us all. Mine is just beneath the surface, always ready to bubble over. This is why I must be firm with it, ruthlessly suppressing any trace of it.

Today though I decided to succumb to it. I read an article about the ‘actress’ Joan Collins who feels that the ‘youth’ are lacking the moraL fibre of their parents:

And this comes from an actress who has had numerous extra-marital affairs and starred in films entitled ‘The Stud’ and ‘The Bitch’. Does anyone mind if I look elsewhere for moral guidance?

The article made me think of my school friend Cally (diminutive of Caroline.) In spite of her angelic blond haired, blue eyed appearance she appeared to be precocious in all the wrong ways. She told us in forensic detail about her sexual exploits with the boys on her estate. The other member of out trio: Rachel and I listened to her, wide-eyed, both fascinated and disgusted. We were, after all, good Catholic girls.

Years later I met Cally again. To my surprise she was studying languages at Bradford University. I reminded her of the sordid tales she used to tell us. She replied ‘You didn’t believe all that stuff, did you? I made it all up. With a little help from Jackie Collins.’


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