Even with all I have seen over the years, I can still be amazed by the slightest thing…the slightest thing in question this time, is how some nasty people with a limited capacity to be able to walk and talk at the same time, let alone throw in the extra addition of chewing gum (who I would have presumed were either dead or had been incarcerated) from back in the day have grasped today’s technology of emailing and blogging or in this case Blog reading. Why amazed, seeing as I used to be one of these Neanderthals and am writing the blogs that the others are reading? Because I was always (well there were a few years in the 90’s where this wasn’t the case) Brain rather than Brawn. It just seemed out of the ordinary to have a few ex-associates contact me through (I’m assuming and hoping) MySpace or Blogger.
I am sure they would be the first to agree that they would have been the last people to even know how to turn a PC on let alone use it to a beneficial level (I hope this is the case because now I know you are reading my blog’s, I wouldn’t want to offend or anything…besides fella’s, you know me, if I ain’t busting balls then I must be dead). So hence the amazement when I got 2 separate emails from 2 fellow face-punchers asking "What’s up?” and “What happened?” Did I see the light and follow the path of Jesus like some of our kind has done, does the love of a good woman really make a difference or am I still pulling scams and this is all an angle? I won’t go into the replies I sent but the basic response was “No” to all of the above. I just woke up one morning and said “Today is the first day of a new life”…no religion, no angles, no alternative reasons…It was just a desire to change.
There is a code amongst the family, firm, underworld (pick your preferred label for the criminal fraternity…whether it is to romanticise or dramatise) that you do not speak outside of school, you don’t grass and you do not drop others in it. Now obviously there are those that despite swearing to uphold this code, squealed, at the first sight of trouble from either the police or opposing fractions, like a fat man camping in Hillbilly country…cue the ‘dwelling banjo’s’.
Self preservation sets in real fast and suddenly the rules don’t apply and they do whatever they feel needs to be done to escape trouble…loyalty is well sought after commodity and should never be taken for granted…It is a golden rule I have lived by all my life and as a result, have been asked to be involved in a number of dodgy things because other’s knew that I was solid, a diamond geezer who knew how to keep shtum…in total, I could be counted on…but now a little tremor of doubt is setting in with some of my old running buddies regarding what secrets I am giving away in my book. To them I say ‘fear not’…although based on true events - names, places and dates have been changed to protect the guilty who were smart enough not to leave a fingerprint, evidence or witnesses to their involvement. Besides, the story focuses on the fictional character called 'Billy Michaels’ (wink, wink) and his brothers… And no, I am not insulted that they would think that way.
When I decided to walk my current path, I moved address, changed my mobile number and stopped hanging around my old haunts…there was still the odd occasion I would bump into an old face or asked to sort something out for someone…get hold off a “cold elephant and a handful of peanuts” (don’t ya just love street talk) or pass a message on etc…I rarely gave out my new contact details…but somehow, others still knew how to get hold of me if my services were needed…I would like to think it was out of the same loyalty I showed towards them, that my decision to get out of the game was respected and the calls were minimal.
I know that makes me sound like I was some top ranking mafia lieutenant or something (I wasn’t) but that’s the way it was…I was never high profile, I rubbed shoulders with all the big names but made a point of not being remembered…pretty hard I know when you’re 6ft 2” and was tipping the scales at 18 stone but I find that those who love the limelight will die in the limelight…me, I like the idea of growing old enough to be a burden to my kids like they’re a burden to me now…lol.
When asked for 2 words that best describes me…I always use ‘Respected’ and ‘Connected’, it’s the only way I can be summed up and I am happy to live with it. There are big names with even bigger nicknames out there that I have a lot of respect for, “the Guv’nor”, “Chairman of the board”, “the Yellow pages of crime”, “Mean Machine”, “Short, baldy bloke” the list goes on…me, if I had a nickname that best suits me, it would be “the AA” because I always know a man who can. Whatever you wanted I could put you in contact with someone, for a small considerable fee of course…I won’t go in to how far my connections went or what I could get arranged but those who know me can regale you with some amusing stories and confirm just what a few phone calls and a trip to Southampton docks can accomplish.
Anyhow, the need for a bottle of JD, a couple of cigars and a few spare hours to reminisce about the old days are in order to get additional material for the sequel but it seems people are waiting to read the first one before wanting to participate in the next…self preservation again, it’s the name of the game.
Be cool…and stay frosty.
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