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I had to go to the Funeral Directors in upton park yesterday, opposite the old West Ham Football Ground, to finalise Dads arrangements...
On the way back to upton park station to catch a train home to leigh on sea, i popped into his local Boozer , The queens head, to tell anyone who might be interested of the funeral service details.. this is a monday at 2pm i'm talking about here...... I didn't think anyone would be in there...
I left at 10pm , ripped to the tits on amstel as practically every customer who walked in there would insist on getting me a drink...
As well as the usual old lags from the West ham fc working mens club that were my dads age, there were Hindu, sikh and west indian lads of all ages that my old man was mates with and were heartbroken and had real love for the old rascal.
I even had a Hindu Elvis impersonator called 'Sal' sing the 'wonder of you' to me and Jo in honour of the old boy.
To top it all , the barmaid told me i sat in the exact same seat my dad would use in the battle cruiser.
Sorry to hear that, my old man is still going at 87, only just mind after being in hospital over Xmas, it’s his fault I support Rangers. RIP East Ham Dave
The apt thing about Dad's Funeral at the city of london cemetery , is that the service ends at 10.40 am..
Which means there's a 10 minute wait for the Golden Fleece opp wanstead flats to open at 11am, so we can get on the piss at his wake....
...when i was 17 we would always get to the Black Lion in plaistow at 11.50am on a sunday waiting for it to open... Even when he was last down in leigh on sea a couple of months ago, we were waiting outside the Crooked Billet at 11.50am waiting for it to open... Same as it ever was.
2 songs chosen for Dad at the funeral from me and my wondeful sister, Abi...
sincerest condolences, we dont know each other but through the hard times of my dads passing nearly 2 years ago now, i found solice in the kind words and support of you and others in our QPR family.
i know you will be in all our thoughts during this tough time. Sad days ahead mate, but chin up, we are here if you need us. Dave
Sorry to hear of your sad news, Disco. I still think of my dad every day and he died back in 1996. You're bound to have some great memories of him that you'll cherish. RIP.
So sorry to hear that Disco, my sincere condolences. My dear old dad died a month ago, with me also gripping his hand until he breathed his last. He was a Spurs fan and a decent amateur goalkeeper who also took all his team's penalties. As Tangerine Dream's Edgar Froese once said: ‘There is no death, there is just a change of our cosmic address.’Â RIP.
"Things had started becoming increasingly desperate at Loftus Road but QPR have been handed a massive lifeline and the place has absolutely erupted. it's carnage. It's bedlam. It's 1-1."
Mate, so sorry to hear this news. East Ham Dave sounded like a proper character. You spoke about him loads on here, like a proud son should. I love Mike Skinners words in 'Never went to church' about his dad when he passed. "When I do something like you you'll be on my mind or through, 'Cause I forgot you left me behind to remind me of you."
He sold french blues to dave dee dozy beaky mick and titch in 1964 which resulted in titch falling off the stage at east ham granada
he played harmonica with ronnie lane in a skiffle band in upton park.
every song he plays on that f ucking harmonica sounds like the old grey whistle test theme tune. every. fu cking. song.
Reckons his mate Reg The shirt cutter, taught mick rodgers of manfred mann the 12 string guitar. ' Reg..the best guitarist the world never saw'
Pete meaden ( The Who's first manager) ,offered his mate Ray, who ran the East Ham Working Mens club, 'the high numbers' , to play at the club for a white fiver. Ray a Modernist with no equal told him to fu ck off . No sell out to the plastic Mods . "Mod was dead by '64".
he smoked jazz fags with otis reading while old Otis tried to kop off with me mum , again at the east ham granada, back stage in 1966.
he went to live in a cave in cornwall for 3 months when my mum left him breifly in the long hot summer of 1976.
when my mum finally left him in 1978, he got steaming and got on stage with georgie fame and ‘done the dog’ , before falling off the stage, at yes, the east ham granada.
after a marathon drinking session and spunking all the housekeeping he returned home to my apocolyptic step mother , with the excuse that , “I turned the corner on green street and got knocked out by a freak gust of wind , it carried me 20 yards down the road and knocked me out. for at least 8 hours…some c unt must have lifted me fu cking wallet when i was unconscious “..
Such was his performance he came to believe this story himself , despite stinking of vodka, bicardi, gin and 180 ‘kim’ cigarettes. still maintains this crock of shit story to this day.
insists he is the 2nd cousin of ry cooder and tom waites despite zero evidence to back these questionable facts up.
Insists he met Bob Dylan in a soho record shop in '63 who told him the correct pronunciation of his name is 'Dy-lan'. not a lot of people know that.
Had to tell long john baldry his fortune via a kick in the nuts after Long john tried to whip out me old mans todger from his Micheal John Tonic tin flute in ham yard '65.
Him and Zoot Money had a jolly up with pp arnold in the shithouse of the Wag club /pink flamingo/ whiskey a go go* delete as appropriate.
We as a family, have been robbed of our birthright and rightful fortune as his Sister marjorie is the illegitimate offspring of a bunk up between lord astor and their mum in the stables. The scandal was so great, she was drugged with some undetermined opiate by those in Lord Astor's employ and "transported up north" while 6 months pregnant with the lords aristocratic harry monk and some hush money..." a few fu cking guineas.. fu ck all Glenn.."
after another divorce He found himself having a drink with jesus christ otherwise known as robert powell in a hotel bar and asked for salvation following 10 pints of double diamond.
he had a affair with stephanie desyks. for further veracity, " her mooie had a stringy bit on it".
My sincerest condolences to you DD, and to you, RFA. It will be 25 years for me next month, but I still think of my old man every day.
It took an enormous Irish funeral to give me an idea what other people thought of him. It should have been one of the worst days of my life, but it was one of my proudest.
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