J
Jerry
Guest
I would like, with your indulgence, to tell you a tale from my childhood.
It's about Old Albert, who scratched a living with a second hand shop in Green Lane
He bought and sold all manner of things but the thing that drew me to his shop was the vast collection of books that filled shelves all around the shop.
From an early age I'd always been an avid reader, I'd like to be able to say that my tastes were inclined towards worthy and learned books but in truth my great passion from the age of seven right up to my late teens was Pulp Science Fiction magazines, of which Albert had literally thousands.
I had an insatiable appetite for this stuff and the local library couldn't begin to keep up with my demands, I'd regularly read two books a day!
Old Albert's shop was a source of sheer delight to me, I could buy books for 6d and after I'd read them he'd take them back for 3d or I'd exchange 2 for 1.
After I'd been using his shop for a while me and Albert actually became friends, me a 12 year old street urchin and he a man in his 40s who lived alone and consequently was always glad to have someone to talk to, regardless of age.
Well things developed into a routine whereby I'd call in to his shop to look for books and while I was making my choice we'd have long chats.
Albert told me how he got his gammmy leg that made walking so hard for him, he'd contracted polio as a child and it left him crippled.
He told me how he used to have a car but his brother borrowed it one year to go on holiday and he never saw his brother or the car again.
And he'd sometimes ask me what I was studying at school and I'd tell him and the next time I went in there'd be a text book on that subject which he'd sell to me for next to nothing.
And sometimes I'd bump into him getting off the Inner Circle bus with bags of books, which I finally realised were being bought especially for me.
And when, at the age of 16, I moved to Aston I went and told him that I probably wouldn't be visiting him any more and he said that he'd miss me, then he said wait there a minute and he went into the back of the shop and came back with a watch which he gave to me as a leaving present
And that was Albert, who was my first grown up pal and his story has never been told but he deserves as much respect as anyone else I know and for my whole life I've carried the burden of shame because I sold that watch a few weeks later for 10 bob
It's about Old Albert, who scratched a living with a second hand shop in Green Lane
He bought and sold all manner of things but the thing that drew me to his shop was the vast collection of books that filled shelves all around the shop.
From an early age I'd always been an avid reader, I'd like to be able to say that my tastes were inclined towards worthy and learned books but in truth my great passion from the age of seven right up to my late teens was Pulp Science Fiction magazines, of which Albert had literally thousands.
I had an insatiable appetite for this stuff and the local library couldn't begin to keep up with my demands, I'd regularly read two books a day!
Old Albert's shop was a source of sheer delight to me, I could buy books for 6d and after I'd read them he'd take them back for 3d or I'd exchange 2 for 1.
After I'd been using his shop for a while me and Albert actually became friends, me a 12 year old street urchin and he a man in his 40s who lived alone and consequently was always glad to have someone to talk to, regardless of age.
Well things developed into a routine whereby I'd call in to his shop to look for books and while I was making my choice we'd have long chats.
Albert told me how he got his gammmy leg that made walking so hard for him, he'd contracted polio as a child and it left him crippled.
He told me how he used to have a car but his brother borrowed it one year to go on holiday and he never saw his brother or the car again.
And he'd sometimes ask me what I was studying at school and I'd tell him and the next time I went in there'd be a text book on that subject which he'd sell to me for next to nothing.
And sometimes I'd bump into him getting off the Inner Circle bus with bags of books, which I finally realised were being bought especially for me.
And when, at the age of 16, I moved to Aston I went and told him that I probably wouldn't be visiting him any more and he said that he'd miss me, then he said wait there a minute and he went into the back of the shop and came back with a watch which he gave to me as a leaving present
And that was Albert, who was my first grown up pal and his story has never been told but he deserves as much respect as anyone else I know and for my whole life I've carried the burden of shame because I sold that watch a few weeks later for 10 bob
