RICK JACKSON: Lofty ambitions dashed by memories

It was with a fair amount of dread I climbed the ladder on the request of my wife to '˜sort out' my side of loft.

Wednesday, 21st March 2018, 8:00 pm
Nostalgia in the attic

At some point, we plan to convert it into an en suite bedroom for us when the kids are a little older, but first I have to sort out 25 years of rubbish.

I first moved out of home in 1994 when I was 21 and being a bit of a hoarder there is plenty of stuff up there that has not seen the light of day in years.

Some of it has just been boxed up and moved from house to house. I cannot remember the last time I watched one of my VHS tapes I’ve recorded off the telly, but they are all still there. CD’s, vinyl records, photos and their negatives, a projector, projector screen and a projector stand plus hundreds of cassettes in boxes.

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I found some of my first hospital radio shows on them and they were shockingly bad!

Books, loads of books. Cookbooks, books on ships, trains, aeroplanes, and buses – they would make a pretty impressive anorak’s library.

Then there were the old dusty boxes right at the back. These contained school books. Wow, old reports, what a read they were. ‘If Richard spent as much time on his school work as entertaining the rest of the class, he’d be a very bright boy indeed.’

The most fascinating part of all my old exercise books were the back pages. There it seems I just scribbled nonsense about which girls I fancied, which pop groups I loved and a list of my best friends. Nancy Martin,

Tears for Fears and Chris Randall in red.

I found old Pompey match-day programmes, including my first Fratton Park game. September 25, 1984, against Nottingham Forest in the League Cup. We won 1-0 thanks to Alan Biley.

Five hours had passed. I’d sorted out nothing and made even more mess.

It was a wonderful nostalgia trip, but I’m sure my wife won’t ask me to sort stuff again!


You learn something every day don’t you?

Well this week, I learnt that you can be fined and have three points on your licence for not clearing all the snow off your car.

A big lump of the stuff can be a real issue at motorway speeds. Seems very few know about this, including a police car being driven around Gosport covered in the stuff.

I also learnt that when you have to fast for a blood test, 12 hours means 12 hours, not 17 or 18.

You must have something just before the 12-hour mark otherwise the results can be tainted.

I was told off by the nurse and warned about wasting NHS money. First I knew!


I think it’s time the media left Ant McPartlin alone now. We can all see he is struggling with the break-up of his marriage and his workload.

Fame can be a tough thing to live with, being constantly in the public eye.

Look how the press hounded and ridiculed poor old George Michael. Look how they then shamefully mourned his death and talked about his great talent.

These people are only human and millions get great pleasure from what they do.

Should their problems help sell newspapers or gain viewers?

I do sympathise with the family his car hit, his co-host Dec and of course his wife. This must be the toughest of times for her, but I hope they can get some peace.