Pomade

This is especially for my son J and should bring a smile to his face.

My mother and me on the drive leading to our house (not in photo) in Trinidad. I am having to guess at the date , being notoriously bad at guessing age - could I have been nearly 12?

My mother sent the photo to my Grandmother in Germany and had written on the back (in German), the following:

"In the garden, my hair looks a little strange and George's is full of hair pomade, to his great pride."

To save most looking up pomade, I suspect Brylcreem might help. Nowadays I guess something like styling gel. Heaven knows how I got my hands on the stuff but presumably had persuaded my mother to buy a tub at the supermarket after I had seen Elvis on the Ed Sullivan TV show. We had B&W TV in Trinidad but everything was a bit delayed - Elvis appeared in the late 50's so that would fit. The Beatles appeared in 64 and 65 and apart from that still being much too new to have been broadcast, they weren't brylcreem types, not even Ringo back then.

I know my father always used a hair tonic which seemed to have worked as he had a full mop even at 89. Perhaps J might inherit the genes from his Grandad as he already has the Peter Pan ones. Grandad was always called that by his somewhat jealous male friends. J, now with a "3" in his age,  has to convince publicans he is old enough to buy beers for his mates.

I have posted this photo to 30th July as I know I was on summer holidays in Trinidad then. It was a day few remember but one when a Swiss football referee and a Russian linesman conspired to steal a deserved victory from the Germans, somewhere in north London. It was also my mother's birhday and just 11 years later to be my (1st) wedding day.

I remember the day well, my Mum and I sitting on the verandah with the transistor radio pulled as close as possible from the sitting room socket to listen to the game. Didn't have to search between "Hilversum" and "Athlone" on the glass face of the radio, the dial was rusted in at the BBC World Service.

Although a Saturday, my father was either at work or playing golf and was not present. My mother was probably for the first time in my living memory, backing Germany. She was otherwise in all respects from speech to manners, more English than the Queen (even allowing for the similar blood). I was thus on the England side but I do remember feeling quite sorry for her when the final whistle blew. The last 30 minutes had been somewhat stressful. I know my father on returning and hearing the news had a big smile but he didn't gloat!

My expression in the photo suggests the date could have been right, despite wearing a Scottish shirt!