Betting on a grey to win the National as a dream child psychic.

But the straw that killed the camel came from learning physic.

Transformation from natural to manmade was a slow transition.

Innocence of youth overcame by greedy materialistic fixation.


Our new life abroad began in the immigration hall waiting to be process.

Mum, sis and little me sat passively for the officialís address.

Documents stamped for approval we exited the airport portal.

Driven by dad through a city crazy for its music and football.

Our first English home was in the Liverpool district of Gateacre.

A one-bedroom flat sat above row of shops cramped into half an acre.

The local Scousers refer to our Fish and Chip shop as a Chippy.

These working class Northerners are renowned for being funny.


We had the corner business premises located at thirty Lee Park Avenue.

Our sleeping quarters directly on top of this source of income revenue.

Side entrances either side of the shopping precinct lead into stairwells to the top.

There was a bakery, a newsagent and a few other stores alongside our shop.

Buses ran along the front of the main road through predominantly a residential route.

So it was busy at lunch, tea and supper times serving the hungry troupes.


Front of our shop had a long serving counter where the customers queued.

We were opened daily before noon till midnight with leisure time very few.

Sliced spud and battered cod were fried in oily lard sizzling in large vats.

Healthy eating was not on the menu just cheap tasty grub that would make one fat.

Backyard to the store was a shed where the sacks of potatoes are raped.

A peeling machine would strip off their skin before manually scraped.

This was a duty expected of all family members including me.

Early in the morning and late at night we still buzz like bumble-bees.


The kitchen and bathroom were either side of our upsides hive.

Two front areas were the lounge and the bedroom that slept five.

Large double windows gave an overhead view of the front road.

An overhanging deck prevents dropping from above any loads.

There were bunk beds and a large bed which I shared with my sisters.

No luxury of air-conditioning or central heating for the cold winters.

Small dining table was against the window next to the television.

While the family worked the two youngest waited out the daily attrition.

Most of our meals were in the store which we had to go down.

Sunday the family relaxed together for lunch in Chinatown.


Liverpool had the first Chinatown in Europe dating back to the nineteen century.

Chinese seaman hired by the Blue Funnel Shipping Line establishing a long history.

Trade routes imported silk, cotton and tea to this northwest English port.

My father served on her Majesty merchant fleet even when wars were being fought.

Like many eastern pioneers before him he settled in this Lancastrian shire.

And here the Chinese community flourished in pursuit of their earthly desires.


Occasionally my dad would take me to the docks to meet his old sailor mates.

Even a small ocean-going merchant vessel is an awesome sight for a kid to take.

As more of his friends came on land to settle, the harbor became a passing landmark.

Only once did he take me to the Chinese seaman club where gambling was on the card.

Mahjong was his sin that my mother hated him for playing.

Any winnings he would spend on his friends who were more than willing.

But when he lost big it appeared his pals were not equal to the giving.

And worst he would vent his losing anger at his family without caring.

Fortunately his partner my mother was not one for taking abuse.

She kept hold of the money giving him only what was for essential use.


My English education started at Belle Vale Infant school.

Most fun learning experience of my life acting the fool.

Iíd hard time learning ABC, but I already knew my twelve times table.

What I really enjoyed were the piggy-back fights which I was most capable.

Best friends were Kevin Bacon and Keith Smelley, fondly referred to as Smelly Bacon.

We had a very attractive female teacher who had the boys totally smitten.

But my true desire was for Michelle OíBrien and a cute blond I can no longer name.

Now I am older I see why my loving gift of a grasshopper turned out to be so lame.


I walked the mile or so from home to school and back.

Biscuit and carton of milk before entering the classroom pack.

Infant schooling was only for a year before graduating to primary.

Though now seven my tested English language skills was still lousy.

I missed the piggy-back games, but the older kids didnít seem to want to ride.

Instead we played Rounders with points scored by each batting side.

But my new favorite playtime activities were marbles and conkers.

One you rolled to hit and the other you aim to smash and conquer.


I was the only non-white pupil when I entered the school system at six.

Two years on along came a black kid who doubled the racial mix.

He was tough enough to muscle his way to joint top cock in the pecking order.

I was third ranking cock until savaged by a girl in a battling furor.

Scathing nails and pulling hair was not a style Iíd previously fought in.

That lost taught me a painful lesson you had to do whatever to win.


Iím not sure if my family found out about my girlie beating and loss of mojo.

Or coincidence that soon after I was signed up to the local martial arts dojo.

Judo means the Gentle Way, which seems paradoxical for a combat sport.

I hated being thrown to the ground, but at least I was very well taught.

Only once did I burst into tears after suffering a contested defeat.

But soon I rose in the ranks to become a student of steely meat.

I regularly won competitions because I was strong and fast.

Once I even got to the finals of two weight division class.

The lightweight I fought all the way through to win with ease.

In the middleweight final I failed and to this day I am not please.


My real street fighting record is still one defeat to that vicious schoolgirl.

In combats I could put my rivals on the ground with exquisite hurls.

But I was too small in statue to try out for the playground fighterís title.

Big bullies avoided me for they knew I would scuffle even though I was little.

I was also considered tough for taking on opposing schools in pitch battle.

In reality we threw stones and then ran like cowardly cattle.

One of the nearby rivals was Gateacre public comprehensive high school.

The older students included my sister, our eldest sibling already in the working pool.


Cher worked as a server at the front of the counter with a couple of hired hands.

Dishing out fish and chips sprinkled with salt and vinegar from bottled cans.

Bundled in clean white wrapper and then overlay with used newspaper.

Fingers tore the wrappings to feast and satisfy greedy hunger.

Mother controlled the all important money and the frying pans.

Father relegated to the kitchen preparing sauces and spam.


The food we served was the average English working manís favorite tastes.

Main meal of the working class was tea-time coming out of the factory gates.

Lunch we catered to stay home mothers and office pickups riding on their bikes.

Supper was quiet until the drunks stagger out of the pubs for an evening bite.

Sunday we closed and Monday all the local businesses worked half-days.

Hours were brutally long and our family rarely took vacations to relax and play.


The only family holiday we took was a dayís outing to Blackpool seaside resort.

Famous for its tower that looks like a copy of the Eiffel in the French court.

Other attractions were the street illuminations and kiss-me-quick hats.

We had more excitement the day we brought in a pussy cat.

Like the pet dog that tried to savage baby me, kitty didnít last long.

Father cried when told to dump out the feline to be alone.

Our next animal was a chicken we kept in the upside kitchen.

My mum brought it to lay fresh eggs to save us pittance.

A single hen could not supply a growing family with yolks.

So like my former playmate piglet she became the meal for us folks.


An addition to our ranks came in the shape of my brother Peter.

So the story was told that my mother wanted to name him Beatles.

It doesnít even rhyme with the famous Fab Four band.

Luckily the registrar picked a more common name with his own hand.

Otherwise imagine the abuse he would go through life with such a name.

Although he could be labeled as the Fifth Beatles to add to his fame.


My youngest sister and I were often left to nurse the new baby.

For an eight year old I was surprisingly good at changing nappy.

There were no disposables and we had to make do with reusable cloth.

Hanging up the washing in the dimly lit bathroom it attracted the moths.

We failed in our duty when one day Pete came into painful harm.

Hot water spilled over him to scald his stomach and arm.


So now there were six to fit into a single bedroom.

And when grandma visited she slept in the living room.

The black-and-white television only showed BBC.

We didnít even have a radio when there was nothing to see.

Maybe that explains why I had a bad nail-biting habit.

Whippings and threats couldnít stop me nibbling my digits.

Other mental scars included not wanting to be touch.

Even casual contacts were psychologically too much.

There were times when I contemplated running away from home.

But my worst desire was to be an orphan for no-one to come.


Into my dreams I escaped from the harsh mundane reality.

What others consider nightmares I had a party.

One recurring scene was my battle with a winged demon down a shaft.

I always won, but back into the dark hole I would descend just to be daft.

My nightly journeys into the other realms brought a curious talent.

To foresee future visions that were accurately decent.

Once predicted an Alan Hansen goal in a League Cup final.

And a grey missing out on the Grand National pinnacle.

Mum betted on that horse to win and got angry when it did not.

Brother supported my claim that I foretold it coming third on the dot.

That incident got me trying to dream for betting on winning finishers.

And that is why I lost my godly gift corrupted by desire for easy riches.


At eleven I move to secondary schooling with a new teaching boss.

From mixed classes to all-boys at Hillfoot Hey in Hunts Cross.

On first day a stranger came knocking on our chip shop door.

A fellow new student introduced himself as Adrian Ball.

We walked and talked all the way to our new high-school.

He became my first real best-friend who I thought was real cool.


One day Adrian came into my class and got me to play Pitch and Toss.

Whoever got their coin closest to the wall profit and the others register a loss.

I later incorporate this into a marbles game with coins as targets.

Using my lunch money I pulled in the gambling maggots.

My reputation as a gaming shark was attracting the wrong souls.

For I started hearing abuse on my color and other verbal lows.


It was the first time I faced outright racism.

Made me realize why murderers and idiots like Fascism.

There was one particular blond fat boy that continually spat racist hate.

As an adopted Liverpudlian I gave plenty of foulmouthed rebates.

If I was bigger I would probably have jumped on his face.

But I was happy when an even nastier kid beat me to that race.


Though I appear to act badly my childhood criminality was a letdown.

Hurling snowballs at buses and trespassing on sacred ground.

Caught climbing his tree the Vicar gave me a verbal reprimand.

Had to hunt for horse chestnuts elsewhere to avoid the holy man.

Christmas was the only time I went back to the church legally.

Along with the school choir I sang the festive songs cheerfully.

Away in a Manger and Silent Night were two of my favorites.

I even recited the Lordís Prayer but not with the passion of zealots.

The truth is I am morally infested with a good sense of conscience.

Once I took an ice cream bar from a newsagent in sneaky voidance.

None caught my criminal act of shoplifting but me.

Guilty as charged I returned the stolen good before I flee.


I didnít pry into my familyís love affairs being naÔve about the birds and bees.

Even at thirteen I thought sucking a womanís breast would make babies.

First time we met Yin Keong Ngeow was him driving us around in London.

We were packed into his Mini car with barely any room for me to sit on.

He was graduating from medical school when he dated my sister Kwee.

His father was a prominent physician brewing a large Malaysian family tree.


Just as I was getting comfortable with an education in gaming and no female.

Family packed up shop and settle in the new town of Skelmersdale.

Trying to recall something nice about the place, but I canít think of anything.

Back to an all-mixed Glenburn high school, but even that was depressing.

Times were so boringly bad for me that I finally took seriously my schooling.

Although the bigger incentive was to avoid a chronic life working in servicing.

I was forced to help out with the family business when class was over.

Most customers are nice but the few racist morons make you want to take cover.


First day they dumped me into the lowest math class.

Teacher elucidating fractions as a frustrating task.

Turned to test me for which I easily answer.

Told him I did more advance arithmetic as normal manner.

Before the lesson was finished I was moved to a higher division.

I focus on improving my studies from there on with no diversion.


For my core curriculum subjects I picked mainly science courses.

English was mandatory otherwise I would have shot it like a lame horse.

Literature and language were two separate classes to double my humiliation.

Reading Thomas Hardyís Mayor of Casterbridge I renamed it Major Castration.

In hindsight the punishment was a true blessing in disguise.

Otherwise my attempts to write these verses would be a total demise.


Next time I recalled seeing Keong with my sister was at their wedding banquet.

I knew no-one at the large gathering except for my family and the marrying duet.

The large Ngeow clan was drinking and eating their fill.

Made my parents hide when it came to paying the bill.


We had a small private celebration at our store for the newlyweds.

My dad carved exquisite vegetable decorations from which we fed.

A true professional he spent all night perfecting his curry puffs.

He cried each time the pastry did not rise with the right stuff.

The perfection and generosity I got from my fatherís gene.

My mother gave me the boldness to be competitively keen.


Our Singaporean relatives would visit us rarely.

But Grandma would come almost yearly.

My mum told me I was her favorite grandson.

Yet her presence brought me no fun.

The day she passed away I was told she was waiting for me.

No tears till I saw her in a casket and knew she would no longer be.

This would not be the only time I was cold to the living.

Only in death would a burning hell be stoked up in my feelings.


Playground gambling days were past me, replaced by legit activities.

In tag games I escaped my pursuers by hurdling high fences with ease.

But my newfound love affair was with football.

Playing with anything that I could kick against a wall.

I even competed in a match on a swollen ankle that I couldnít fit back into my shoe.

The Reds of Liverpool is my favorite local club and not Everton the team in blue.


Bill Shankly a Scot was worshipped by the red half of Merseyside.

Manager of Liverpool Football Club he put together the best British side.

Keegan and Toshack were the Little and Large who terrorized oppositions.

Emlyn Hughes nicknamed Crazy Horse captain the team to win many competitions.

Three League titles, two FA Cups and a UEFA Cup before retiring.

Shankly was renowned for his witty quotes that were all inspiring.

Fans standing on the Kop chant his name and sing the clubís anthem.

Youíll Never Walk Alone filled the Anfield ground in celebrating triumph.


Isaac Newton ruled classical physics with his fundamental laws of mechanical motion.

Calculus he developed to explain a falling apple would start a mathematical revolution.

History has marked him down as perhaps the greatest and most influential scientist.

Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica published in 1687 is on the all-time master list.

To learn the foundation of science is to follow Newtonís historical discoveries.

His theories can explain the kicking of a football to the rotation of galaxies.


Chemistry and physics were my best subjects that I saw a practical future.

The way it was taught bored me with math for its abstract nature.

I also enjoyed history covering the violence of the Greek and Roman Empires.

When it turned into the British Industrial Revolution I became less inspire.

O-Level exams produced only Aís in Mathematics and Physics.

But my most satisfying passed grade was a C in my dreaded English.


It was time to graduate up to Skelmersdale Sixth Form College to study A-Levels.

Choose Chemistry, Mathematics and Physics to continue my studies and avoid stupid evils.

Although we learned the basics of the Quantum world, Newtonian mechanics was still king.

Everyday observables we could use his three laws of motion to accurately pin.

And with differential and integral calculus you can determine the changing world.

I saw through science the answers to everything and all things spiritual to be curtail.


The bureaucrats decided to turn Skelmersdale into a New Town development.

Located twenty kilometers northeast of Liverpool it brought in the local migrants.

Our chippy was in the older part of town known locally as Old Skem.

With nothing of cultural interests it was about as much fun as playing in a chicken pen.

Near to my college was the Concourse Shopping Centre.

The only highlight moments were mindless browsing as I enter.

Perhaps fate has intended to put me into such a depressing situation.

So I was motivated to pursue higher learning to escape my depression.


Iíd tough call deciding whether Chemistry or Physics had more of my adoration.

Chemist seems to have fun blowing things up and making smelly concoctions.

Finally settled when my physics teacher boasted he was married to a beautiful wife.

Using naÔve logic I concluded women prefer physicists to be part of their life.

Experiences have taught me that being handsome and rich are the real priorities.

And that ugly poor nerds exaggerate how sexy are their partnersí extremities.

But I guess using sex for a chosen destiny is as good as tossing a coin.

Head or tail cannot compete with fantasizing on curvaceous loins.


So whether the reasons were stupid or its just fate I traveled down the science path.

Except for one coming incidence I never again foretold the future and angst Godís wrath.

There was also a separation in my developing interest in advanced math.

Measurements and experimental observations I considered being the real task.


After completing a year in advanced studies it was time to ponder Universities.

I considered myself too dumb for Cambridge or Oxford, the greatest of academic cities.

My main criterion was to be near my favorite football club.

So first name on the selection form was Liverpool my real true love.

Lancaster, Salford, Leeds and Manchester were listed as optional.

Although the Unitedís of Leeds and Manchester were my bitter soccer rivals.

The grade requirement for entering Liverpool University was three Cís.

As backup I selected Lancaster who offered entry needing only two Eís.


Even though Iíd confidence in passing my A-Level exams.

It was still a nervous result day at the college camp.

An A in Chemistry, but surprisingly only Bís in Physics and Mathematics.

Considering I comfortably finished the tests early without having to be frantic.

But the unrest was short-lived knowing I was to continue my higher education.

Finally I could escape my parentsí dreadful life of toil and stagnation.


Wigan and Ormskirk were nearby towns where I took my driving instructions.

Failed my driverís tests so many times for frivolous infractions.

For not glancing into the rear mirror or missing the signal indicator.

People joked that I should wear a skirt and bed the instructors.

Dad allowed me to drive his brown Datsun while registering for test dates.

Until finally I passed and could joyfully take down the L learnerís plates.


I continued to live at home even though I was now a big boy at university.

The physics department was up Brownlow Hill in the heart of the city.

My dad used the car before dawn to pick up fresh supplies from the markets.

The rest of the time I drove to classes like an idiot for road-rage targets.

If there is one lesson that I should definitely take and thatís anger management.

Not surprising that teenage boys pumped with testosterone has highest insurance payments.


Free board and delicious meals were advantages to home living.

But it sucks when it comes to dating and socializing.

First year I made no friends with teachers or students.

It wasnít until David Thornley snuck up to me like a quiet rodent.

Not sure if he felt sorry for me or was after my bag of sweets.

Found out he was a Reds football fanatic which made it a real treat.

He also lived with his parents in Childwall district.

Close to our former Gateacre home where my upbringing was strict.

So we had much in common including having no girlfriends.

In physics there were few girls and most looked more like men.


Now that I was in higher education I was exempt from the family business.

I stayed upstairs copying that dayís scribbled lectures into neat pamphlets.

Memorizing notes is in my opinion not the best learning method.

You pass exams but understanding the subject needs more studious effort.

We rarely got work assignments and it was almost impossible to get termination.

So there was no motivation to study hard until the end of year examinations.


The only course which had a weekly assessment was laboratory experiments.

From measuring the finite speed of light to determining charged particle movements.

Random and systematic errors are an experimentalistís true judge.

You can make any results fit if youíre willing to fudge.

Other than by dishonesty there is no hiding from the error bars.

These experimental uncertainties will let others know whether youíre on par.

Non-scientists tend to perceive whatever they hear and see as absolute.

They ought to be taught that even in science there are achievable flukes.


From the absolute domain of Newton came Albert Einsteinís relative world.

For observers traveling close to the speed of light Newtonian principles begin to fail.

There are no privilege reference frames and the universe is policed by a maximum speed limit.

Length contraction and time dilation are consequence of approaching the velocity summit.

This is the law of Special Relativity proposed in 1905 by the patent clerk.

Paradoxical the greatest genius of our century was rejected for a teaching berth.

General Relativity was published in 1916 and incorporates gravity into his relativistic framework.

Curvature of unified space-time can lead to Black Holes where even photons are gravitationally cork.


Einstein is best remembered for his equivalence relationship between energy and mass.

E=mc2 is the most recognizable scientific equation that led to the nuclear bomb blast.

Less known is his Noble Prize in 1921 for his description of the Photoelectric Effect.

An experiment supporting Quantum Mechanics description of the atomic world that was perfect.

Yet the uncertainty of the quantum realm cannot reconcile with Einsteinís theories of the cosmos.

God does not play dice was his rebuke to quantum indeterminism which he considered hogwash.


I was not a good brother to Pete; use to dangle him over the balcony.

Perhaps I was jealous he was dadís favorite son, which festered disharmony.

The only benefit I gave him was the motivation to go one better than me.

Always reminds me that he has one higher level master degree.

Another advantage with having a brutish brother was he never feared bullies.

If you could survive my tantrums then the rest of society appears like girlies.


Sister Kwee had moved to America with her husband.

She visited us often with her new daughters in hand.

Swee May was my first niece, a royal pain to babysit.

Demanded bottles of milk each night or else she threw a fit.

Swee Ping was the opposite with her baby temperament.

I could dump her in the corner by herself with contentment.

There was a scary moment one night when May tumbled down the stairs.

Luckily with all that padded milky fat she survives none the worse for wear.


I had no idea what I wanted to do after graduation.

A meandering soul lacking purpose and motivation.

Without real conviction I stroll to the head of department.

Offer of a graduate program in nuclear physics was accepted with wonderment.

Forever I am indebted to the British taxpayers for free education.

And political supporter of a democratic socialist state operation.

The National Health offered free medical to all citizens.

Strong mind and body will work to return the benefits to fellow denizens.


Labour was the political party of the socialist lefties.

Confronted from the right by the conservative Tories.

Liberal were a fringe party in a two-horse Parliamentary race.

Of no democracy stood the House of Lords an unelected place.

Queen Elizabeth was the symbolic head upon her coronation.

Legacy of former colonial conquests was the Commonwealth League of Nations.

Singapore joined the Commonwealth in 1966 to become one with many.

Same year when England won the World Cup against Germany.


There were many Trade Union strikes and disruptions in the Seventies.

Uncollected rubbish and blackouts were common nasties.

It brought down the Labour Party and in came the Iron Lady.

She beat up on the unions and privatized the national entities.

Unemployment skyrocket and in Liverpool a quarter of adults had no jobs.

Collecting dole money and in some cases supplementing income with criminal mobs.

Just as Thatcher seem doomed to lose her Prime Minister post.

Came the Falklands war with Argentina that gave her a winning toast.

Battle pride revitalized a nation while the Argies threw out their military dictator.

So the spilling of blood were ultimately political benefits to the losers and victors.


Other than my late grandma, the only Singaporean who visited us regularly was Teck Chuan.

Eldest cousin worked as a mechanic on Singapore Airlines so could fly free when he wants.

On graduating with a Bachelor in Science it was my first time to return to my birthplace.

Though I hated the hot weather the delicious feasting was a most welcome back taste.

Each day was a happy perpetual routine of eating, showering and chatting.

Recalling forgotten faces and names of family members I was reacquainting.

My cousin Kwee Eng and her husband took me on a driving tour into Malaysia.

We ended up in Genting a casino resort that was my first professional gambling fantasia.


Singapore was no longer the place I remembered in time.

It was a grownup nation that had left me and its poor past behind.

I carried its roots within my soul, but for now I was no longer an Asian.

England was where I would return to continue my life as a Caucasian.


My nuclear research supervisor was Arthur James.

As an undergraduate lecturer he was a royal pain.

But he was highly regarded as a brilliant scientist.

As his first graduate student I was pampered like a royalist.

I was assigned to dumb duties such as Monte Carlo simulations.

Even then Trevor Morrison programmed all the difficult computations.


My doctorate thesis would be on the development of the Recoil Separator.

A mass identifier of heavy ions produced from a Van de Graaff accelerator.

The Nuclear Structure Facility was located at Daresbury in the Cheshire County.

In its time it was one of the worldís best nuclear structure research facility.


For the first time in my life I lived away from home.

Though less than an hour drive if my mum told me to come.

Started off in university dorm a stone throw from the physics department.

Moved to a basement flat I shared for five pounds a week rent.

Toxteth was a rough neighborhood some considered a slum.

Poor students, drug dealers, muggers and an assortment of bums.


One of my fellow student and near neighbor would constantly get mug.

As a psycho with a conscience I went prowling for these low-life bugs.

Closest I came was twice when encountered by gangs of three.

Whatever they saw in my evil eyes made them step back and flee.


My dad brought me my own automobile.

A red Fiat coupe that barely fit four to fill.

Had a wheel stolen and nail jammed into my ignition.

Probably the same muggers I scared off wanting retribution.

Had to park my car securely at the campus and walk instead.

Most nights the only person strolling down dark lanes to his lonely bed.


There was a pink Rolls Royce that the neighborhood gang did not mess.

Belong to the criminal King Pin that even a madman would not test.

The police once raided the local drug den.

Next day a full blown mass riot as anarchy ascend.

I casually walked passed burning cars and news camera crew.

Had a more important snooker practice match to pursue.


Life for me in academic research was cozy and an easy take.

Went into the department in time for the morning coffee break.

An hour playing cribbage before it was time for lunch.

More cribbage, more breaks and then some data to crunch.

Cannot blame work related stress for my nightly mugger hunting.

Scared off girls as easy as criminals which meant sex was lacking.


Theory of primeval frustration was reinforced by a close friend.

David Burrows was even crazier than I until a girl made him mend.

Once I took a train to visit the loving couple.

We were assaulted at the station by a gang of mindless muscles.

Before he found love my buddy would have waded in like a maniac.

It was left to me to put aside my pretense to be a peace-loving brainiac.

Dave did try to pull me aside from the mass attack.

For his courage he was whacked with an iron bar from the railway track.

I did take down one fat assailant with a front snap kick to his groin.

Fond memories of his painful squeal as he collapsed on his quivering loin.

The leader of the gang of eight seemed perturb I would not back down.

Insisting he was a Jiu-Jitsu master made him look even more of a clown.

Throwing down their weapons and words they escaped on a coming train.

Police was called to arrest them while I attended to my friendís pain.


Lacking evil doers to vent my simmering anger upon.

I signed up with the university sports club for training to take on.

The instructors were members of the British Jiu-Jitsu Association.

Soke Brundell was the founder with Lowlands as the center of veneration.

My fellow university students were too much soft puss for my liking.

So I followed the masters to where I could get a good hard beating.

The bloodstains on the dojo mats were from those taking their black-belts.

Soon I rose in the ranks to know how the mastersí felt.


Other university sports that I partake were football and cricket.

Renowned for my tough tackling and wild bowling that took few wickets.

Only winning triumph came in an indoor five-a-side interdepartmental tournament.

Provided the assist to Andy Kirwan to score for our winning highlight moment.

Brother Pete was a guest player for one of the other rival team.

Hit in the eye with the ball detached his retina seam.

As with my usual uncaring manner I gave no sibling love or sympathy.

Bad karma inflicts upon me future double retinal detachments for my emotional apathy.


Lost my big science virginity the day the Recoil Separator was commission.

Surprisingly pleased that my computer simulations came to real-life fruition.

High-energy gamma-ray emissions were measured in coincidence with the ion mass.

From the decay sequence the energy structure of a nucleus could be unmask.

Spectroscopic discoverer of the super-deformed Cerium-124 isotope was my scientific fame.

Though the crowning published research paper was actually written by Paul Nolan in my name.


Theories for my written thesis came from copying other researchersí works.

My contribution to the advancement of science was of little groundbreaking perks.

Not surprising my first submission was rejected by the assessors.

An anti-climax when I was finally passed by the Professors.

But at least now I could put Doctor to the front of my official title.

And most rewarding was the pride to my familyís credentials.


My father suffered a stroke which incapacitated him.

The callous son that I was gave no feelings to what was grim.

As with my grandma I will forever walk a lonely path seeking forgiveness.

Yet this may be my godly destiny to wander my own inner wilderness.

My torment is ease knowing my father was proud of my achievements.

Mother told me he boasted around his friends of my academic accomplishments.


Fatherís younger brother came from Shanghai to stay with our grieving family.

Uncle would be a valuable asset to my own business startup calamity.

I invented the Strika an impact force and timing instrument.

Used by training martial artists for punching and kicking measurement.

My uncleís tailoring experience was used to stitch the padded implements.

Business partner Phil Bishop built the electronic components.

Marketing and sales were my main responsibility.

Soon realized for real commerce I had infant naivety.


Humbled by my failure in entrepreneurship due to my lack of business acumen.

I broke off the partnership and stashed my invention aside for the moment.

Applied for regular nine-to-five jobs in areas of advanced technologies.

Went for appointment in London with a company in the cryogenic industries.

Interviewed by Jim Hutchins and Peter Jarvis for position of project engineer.

Imagining them to be my fighting opponents I won myself a new career.


Our family had a semi-detached house in the mega metropolis of London.

Located in Cricklewood just north of the large Irish community of Kilburn.

Drove south in my Fiat to share the home with my cousin Mona Sim.

She was the daughter of my eldest aunty Lim.

Her desires were an Italian boyfriend and gardening.

Bitch whenever I kicked a ball into her plantings.


Started daily driving the seven miles to my office in the London district of Acton.

But after a harrowing two-hour experience stuck in traffic to the bus I took on.

Cryogenic Consultants was located in an old warehouse building.

Shared a ground floor office with my boss Jim as I was learning.

Designing low-temperature systems and superconducting magnets.

Worked long hours including weekends to quickly become an expert.


Martin Chappell was a technician earning extra money cutting hair at lunch-time.

As his colleague and customer he soon became a best-friend of mine.

He took me to his local gym where we worked out and combat spar.

Kicked me in the eye, but at least he drove me to the hospital in my car.

After the operation I had to rest two weeks for my recuperation to end.

First day home I did a backwards somersault for a visiting friend.

Not surprising the surgery did not succeed, which almost made me cry.

Finally decided to take surgeonís advice when he went back into my eye.


Once healed to live a peaceful life the doctorís recommended was impossible.

Went back sparring with Martin and this time his turn to end up in hospital.

An unblocked punch to his eye gave him a bloody hemorrhage.

Forever our lasting friendship is bonded through a violent heritage.

He moved in to share the house with me and Mona.

But soon he emigrated to be with his parents in America.


After the passing of dad, my mother and sister remained in Southport.

Business was poor when they transition to a Chinese restaurant they brought.

Peter was now at a university in Manchester studying as a chemical engineer.

He would help out in the family business whenever at home he appeared.

Grand opening I also showed up to help, but threatened to punch a customer.

It perplexes me why racist idiots make stupid remarks to a food server.

The restaurant was quickly sold and my mother finally retired.

Cher went to work as a waitress for a friendís restaurant empire.


In her retirement mum would come and look after me in London.

Martin quickly became my motherís favorite adopted son.

Not use to a lazy life she would work feverish around the house.

From building a garden fence to blocking up holes to keep out field mouse.

When Martin left the country he still took his family to visit my mum up north.

He set a loving example for me which I seemed incapable of being taught.


One day I was sent to pick up a customer arriving at the airport from Australia.

As I return to the company I was told to send him away due to internal mania.

Our company was declared bankrupt and the bankís appointed receiver was now in charge.

Absurdly business was booming, but management did not pay attention to the cash flow chart.

As fate would have it, I was offered another job a week before this catastrophic event.

So it was an easy decision to pack up and to the new company I went.


Magnex Scientific was based in Abingdon an hour drive west.

For the first month I commuted by car which wasnít the best.

I then decided to stay at bed and breakfast places during midweek.

Driving back to London Friday night following this routine for several weeks.


David Rayner was the opposite General Manager to Jeremy Good.

My former employer was technologically smart under his hood.

But the new one was only interested in running corporate affairs.

Though he still had energy to bed the secretary in a love affair.


Fed up with the long weekly commute I took up an offer from Ian Jenkins.

Another graduate from Liverpool so a readymade reference to get me in.

The Kilns was a historical home of C. S. Lewis, which was now a rundown mess.

My bedroom was the attic where supposedly the famous wardrobe was kept.

We shared the large house with a young couple and a medicated schizophrenic.

The madman threatened to kill the other tenants until he met a crazier maniac.

Maybe itís because I also walk along a narrow edge of insanity.

Fearing my violent temperament meant he still had some sense of reality.


The director Richard Attenborough viewed our place as a potential movie setting.

Decided to build a replica of the house at Pinewood Studios for the filming.

Shadowlands was on the life of Lewis, an Oxford professor.

Though he is more world-renowned as a fantasy author.

A friend of Tolkien he was once a skeptic of all things spiritual.

We traveled along parallel journeys in finding the godly virtues.


We were all kicked out of The Kilns after the madman reported our slum landlord to the police.

Trustees wanted no bad publicity on Lewisí legacy so terminated our renterís lease.

I moved to a new house sharing with my old boss Jim and friend Richard Tanner.

Rick hid from fellow Liverpool alumni and family his gay manner.

Before long his Indian lover Siddo moved in with us.

Jim a traditional married man luckily didnít put up any fuss.

After the bankruptcy he got an offer in Oxford through his job seek.

Like me before he commuted home at the end of each work week.


Downtown Los Angeles was start of my tour when I visited Martin in California.

Policemen pointing guns at suspects is not the best welcome sight to America.

Still as a dumb excited tourist I wanted my photo taken at the crime scene.

My friend hastily pulled me away from the urine-smelling street that was mean.

Work also sent me across the pond as a service engineer.

Visited more peaceful scenic places working with my peers.

From the sunny beaches of Santa Barbara to the snowy peaks of Colorado.

I decided the United States of America was where I wanted to go.


My company told me they would satisfy my desire and post me abroad.

After a year with no permanent work visa I was starting to get bored.

Drunk at a barbecue party I finally broke down and wept in front of my friend.

The following day I handed in my resignation letter for my employment to end.

Instead they tempted me with higher promotion and more money.

Being a weak soul I accepted the bribe even though I knew it to be temporary.


On a foreign assignment I got forwarded a job description.

Even before I returned home I sent off my application.

Things move quickly when you are a wanted man.

Out west to a desert town in Arizona and not just for a tan.

My new boss was to be Eric Swartz the ownerís son.

Working at Research and Manufacturing Company located in Tucson.