Thoughts of Birmingham

When I was living in Birmingham, all I could think about was moving
away from there. The same old number 11 bus route, with its nondescript
buildings and the familiar boring faces doing the same old boring
things filled over an hour of each day from Monday to Friday while
traipsing to and from and work.
There were "good" periods during my 24 years in Good Ol' Brum. At
fifteen, the world was just opening up to me and man did I have a
blast! With my partner in crime Elaine, we sought to try all the
delights and nightlife Birmingham had to offer two rebellious (or so we
thought ourselves) teenage girls. The Humming Bird fast became our
"experimental cave" and it was there, at fifteen that we sampled the
delights (and downfalls) of LSD, and a couple of years later Ecstasy. I
will have to write in ten years or so to tell you what damage these
years have done to my unknowing brain cells.
Weekends, although on the whole usually entertaining, began to feel
like a chore and lost the appeal that they once held. The same local
pubs, clubs and "Friday night" faces were born from habit rather than a
chosen act of will.
Don't get me wrong, I love my friends and miss them with an aching
inside that's hard to describe, but I needed to move on.

Darren, my better (or sometimes my worst) other half, had been sharing
my life since I was sixteen. After several ups and downs and a year
apart, (in which time I rekindled my love of drugs and found my soul
mate Elaine again), we patched things up and decided it was time to
leave the ghosts, faded dreams and indeed the "family ties" behind and
make our own mark on the world of "Darren and Lindsey".

Due to Darren's job, we had to find the house of our dreams in
Derbyshire. After much house hunting and rows that left one or two
dents in each of our prides, we at last settled on a property. On the
surface, it was the house we had both been wishing for while
"squatting" at both sets of parent's homes. A postcard from the
countryside is the only way I can describe it to you.
Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for the beautiful scenery and being
able to leave my car and house door unlocked. ( That's us in the
future, on Crime Watch UK. You know, the ignorant couple who still
think that because they live in a "nice" area that they are untouched
from the horrors of the "real" world...One day I am sure we will find
ourselves at the mercy of three ski-masked burglars, poisoned Labrador
and tied to the bathroom sink!). Seriously though, It's a dream world
that only lives because we choose to believe the neighbours that
"nothing bad ever happens here" (Panther sightings and Escaped convicts
are never mentioned I might add!).

The illusion soon began to fall apart about a year of us moving here.
Instead of seeing rolling hills of green and ageing couples in the
throes of early retirement, through my window I could only see the
desolation of it all. Summer months, though filled with colour and life
are short lived and the winter sets in and seems to want to stay for
good. Empty crisp packets, fag nubs and people ( still dressed for hot
evenings and heading down the local pub or club) have been replaced by
dead leaves and rotting flowers. Even the animals that are rife during
March to September have packed their bags and left us for ever...

Its time again to move on. The house is up for sale and we want
out!
On Midlands today, all I see is short stories on who has been stabbed
outside a club, who has been shot dead, and some tragic piece about an
old lady who got bashed on the head. Such a disgrace, but it happens
every where.
Birmingham has had so much bad press, and yes most of it deservedly so,
but it's my home and I miss it...

In city streets I feel safe, here in the dark and quiet lanes
surrounding my house, I feel like a traitor.
I hear no song when I tread these silent pathways. In Birmingham the
old ghosts of my youth are still floating, waiting for my return...