I, U AND IAN PAISLEY TO TEA

Roddy strikes me now as a coarse-spoken, tattoo-sporting Protestant
fanatic. He is a father of four and turning fat.

Roddy (to us), alias Winston (to his father) was in our class at
school and in our gang. From his father, Roddy inherited his enthusiasm
for technical things. Once we repaired his bicycle on the lawn (a
puncture), as if he were performing a surgical operation: With me, his
attendant, assisting, while he barked instructions at me: "3/8 ring!
7/16 open spanner! Cross-point screwdriver! 3/8 ring!...."

His house was full of prizes, trophies and foto's of his mother in
full Highland regalia, kilt or tunic, doing Highland flings or sword
dances.

Roddy was an only child, and as such, was spoiled rotten, especially
by his mother....He was inundated with sweets, comic books, pocket
money, lurid, tasteless clothes and was treated to the cinema about 5
nights a week by his Grandfather.

From his mother he inherited (besides an expensive, knitted Balaclava
helmet for his chronic ear problems, which excused him from swimming
lessons) a passion for music, particularly, Scottish. He was a drummer
in the local Pipe Band.

To our envy, he also got frequent postal deliveries of comics, guns,
footballs and Marvelman T-shirts from doting relatives in far-off
places like America or Australia. Like all spoiled boys, however, he
treated the "spoilers," his parents, with disdain and periodically
abused them with incredibly offensive language.

Roddy's distinquishing "fame," is that he passed his crucial
matriculation examination, which might have enabled him to go to high
school and on to university, but he turned the opportunity down! To my
parents, it seemed incredible, that a 10 year old boy was allowed to
make a decision (for no better reason than "no hard studying," or some
temporary gratification, etc.), which aborted his career.

He elected to go to a trade school, which prepared him for a job as
garage mechanic.

When I see Roddy, now, about once a year, he is gentler and more
mature, but we seem to have less and less in common. My last visit, he
boasted that he had had tea with the famous Rev. Ian Paisley from
Belfast.