Monday, 16 January 2012

Fighting Fascism


Many years ago while fighting fascism in London - I had my two front teeth knocked out.

Although when I say I was fighting fascism - strictly speaking - it was really more of a case of fascism fighting me.

Because I was on my way home from a night out - a 'Support the Miners' benefit evening during the big strikeof 1984/85.

Anyway, I was on my way home with a number of colleagues from the NUPE (trade union) office - where we all worked at the time - and we were all festooned with stickers about supporting the striking miners.

For no obvious reason this really smartly dressed young man - in a camel coloured coat like the one Arthur Daley of 'Minder' fame used to wear - started abusing our company, in particular one of the women who just happened to be Afro-Carribean.

Now this was unpleasant, nasty and racist abuse - from someone who had to be a paid up member of an organisation like the National Front.

So I waded in - with words not fisticuffs of course - and put the bounder in his place much to the amusement of our fellow passengers on the night bus - who all clapped and cheered at a bully being put firmly in his place.

But on the way off the bus - and without the slightest warning - this suited and booted young man stuck the head on me - a 'Glasgow kiss' in the west end of London - and then he jumped off the bus and ran away.

I grabbed thin air thinking it was my by now long-gone assailant - and ended up on the floor with someone claiming to be his pregnant girlfriend - whom I tried to strangle for a short while until I came to my senses. 

I got off the bus looking for the proud father to be - but he had fled the scene, the coward - leaving his pregnant girfriend behind to fend for herself.

Meanwhile all my friends an colleagues were asking if I was OK - because I looked OK - there was no blood or other obvious sings of injury.

'Wait a minute', I said as we found some seats - not wanting the other passengers to see that I had been hurt in any way - and then I spat out one half of a front tooth - which was completely snapped in two.

I felt around and realised that the second tooth was bent backwards - so I pulled it out with my hands - and resolved to go to my dentist the next day - after a consoling drinkor two with my NUPE friends.

When I got to the dentist the next day - still with no visible signs of injury - he said there was good and bad news. 

The bad news was that my two front teeth were destroyed to all intents and purposes - but the good news is that he could give me back my smile - with a set of teeth like a Hollywood film star.

'Well in that case', I told him - 'I want my money's worth. I want a set of teeth like Champion the Wonder Horse'.

The rest as the say is history - and it began my life-long association with dentists and dentistry.

So if there's anything you want to know about that subject - just drop me a note.