Welcome to the "MY FIRST KISS BY CHRIS BOYLE" webpage of The Pumamouse Website. |
| Before I begin, I must point out that every kid who was 'groovy' had a transistor radio. Though it wouldn't be admitted openly, there were those devotees who would, on the odd occasion, stray, from listening to LM Radio, to listen to Springbok and even the English Service, or A Programme, as it was sometimes called. Why even I admit to doing that, though it was only to tune in to the Springbok Hit Parades, or Forces Favourites on A, nothing else! To give some inkling as just to how much LM influenced my everyday life, I have interspersed this recount with snippets of the music that I associate with that time. For the purists, please note that some of the tunes may not fit in exactly with the right time frame, but seeing as this all happened thirty five years ago, I have allowed myself limited 'poetic license'. I went to boarding school, as a kid. I have to admit that I was a naughty little brat and can't blame my folks for having felt that a while away from home would do me good. School was in the sleepy little Eastern Cape city of Grahamstown! A private school, run by the Catholic Jesuits. Being a laat lammetjie - an afterthought, - I was born thirteen years after my brother Tony - I was my Mom's spoilt baby. Because of this, I used to get terribly homesick. Very often, I used to pretend that I was on the train home when I got into bed at night. [I'm Sittin' In The Railway Station, Got A Ticket For My Destination... Homeward Bound, I Wish I was...] I'd rock myself, like the train used to rock, pretend I could hear the clickety-clack of the wheels on the rails. I'd even pretend that I could smell the soot and taste that distinctive SAR & H (South African Railways and Harbours) coffee in those thick white Continental China cups. I'd waken in the morning and it would all be gloom again because I'd still be in little old Grahamstown, eight hundred miles from home! [Ten Thousand Miles Away From Home, Ten Thousand...] When I did get home for the school hols I'd be a changed boy. I'd make my bed every morning, eat my vegetables, wash my dad's car! I'd even carry the garbage out! As I've so often said, 'Only when it's gone, do you realize how much you miss what you had.' How prophetic these words have been, little did I realize just how true this would prove to be for me, in particular, not much later in my life. I've got a confession to make though. I changed from being a homesick Mommy's boy into one of the boys very suddenly! [For Man Size Flavour, The Kind You Like, Give A Man A Lucky, Lucky Strike!] It all happened in the January of '67! We used to have three terms at St. Aidan's. The Christmas hols lasted all of December and January too. Beech was my best school buddy, in fact we're still the best of friends. His name is Kevin Grimbeek, but we all had nick-names. Mine was The Bishop, because my uncle was the bishop of the Catholic diocese in Johannesburg. Strangely enough we also had a Camel, a Tank, a Moose and a Mother Superior too, just to mention a few! Where was I? Oh yes. January '67. I left home and went back to Grahamstown early. Beech's folks farmed near to Grahamstown. Beech had spent the first part of the holidays with me, at my home, in Benoni. He went home for Christmas. I went down to spend the remainder of the hols, just after the Festive Season. I traveled, as we all did in those days, by train. The last hour and forty minutes of this twenty seven hour trip have haunted me ever since. En route the train stops in Alicedale. This is a tiny, dusty, dorp where the line from Johannesburg splits. One line goes on to Port Elizabeth, the other on to Grahamstown. On this particular occasion, the train was full of army conscriptees, guys going to the Sixth SA Infantry camp in Grahamstown. I had the only reserved compartment on the whole train. The rest was for the army guys. I remember having my transistor radio tuned in to LM Radio! [Check Your Time By The BP Chime...This is Lourenco Marques for non-stop happy listening...] Well the rest of this story is like a fairy tale. Read it, say 'Aw c'mon!', if you like, but this did actually happen. True's Bob, Jannies Khupela, Ek sweer! It was a hot day, very hot. [Don't You Listen To Him Dan, He's A Devil, Not A Man... And He Expects To Burn Sand With Water...] The heat haze rose off the veld making everything look like it wasn't real. Hazy mirages distorted everything. There was not a breath of wind. The dust rose from behind a speeding bakkie and it just hung in the air. It took forever to slowly drop back down and clear. Everything was hot. The train had stopped in Alicedale and there was the usual shouting and cursing from the railways workers as they were busy shunting the carriages back and forth. A steam loco chuffed past on a parallel line, belching a burst of hot steam into my window as it went by. Being a well behaved, cultured, Catholic young gentleman, I muttered something not printable, got up and went and stood in the corridor looking out of the window on the opposite side. There was chaos, the conscriptees, we called them 'Troepe', were running around like chickens... yeah you're right, without heads! I was ever so nonchalant, man I knew where I was at. Shoot I'd traveled this line before, what were they panicking about? The train was still being shunted around. It'd be a least half an hour before it'd be ready to leave. Stupid buggers! Typical troepe! It was then that I saw her! [Got Myself A Cryin' Talkin' Sleepin' Walkin', Livin' Doll...] She was struggling with her luggage and she had her kid brother along with her. He was a little guy and he was struggling even more than she was. She was beautiful. Long brown hair, big hazel eyes. Legs like forever, the inevitable mini-skirt. A figure that looked like she'd been designed by an Italian sports car manufacturer. Man she was stunning. The troepies were all wolf-whistling at her and saying stupid things like, 'Howzit goosey?' This is where I sprang into action and, at the same time, a memory forever! I hopped down from the train, grabbed her case, her brothers too! I'm not a small guy, never was, but those two cases damned nearly gave me a double hernia! Not giving that a second thought, my training as a gentleman, all courtesy of St. Aidan's, sprung into action. 'How do you do Miss? My name is Chris Boyle. Seeing as I have the only reserved compartment on the train, I insist that you spare yourself the taunts of these hoodlums and share my compartment with me!' Now tell me I'm not as slick as a dude who can slide uphill! Jingers, I thought I was in heaven! [Ob La Di, Ob La Da...] Her kid brother said that he'd seen his friend's brother, in another compartment, and he disappeared to go and chat to him. I couldn't have scripted this better if I'd tried! Her name was Marilyn! Now I know that this story is getting to sound like you're saying 'Yer right, yer bulldustin' me!' But my Chinas, this is just the beginning of a hundred minutes, in my life, that I have never forgotten! Yeah, I know, I keep saying that! Allow me to continue. Cutting a long story even longer, Marilyn taught me how to kiss! No not like you kiss your Ma, nor your Granny, but like kiss bro, like the French booitjies do! What happened was this. We'd been chatting for a while, the train had started rolling and I was as happy as a three tailed puppy! We chatted about everything, then she suddenly asked me if I had a girlfriend. I said that I had. She asked me how I kissed her. I had to show her so I pursed my lips, like a prune, and said, 'Like that.' She told me that was no good, you only kissed your Mom like that, not your squeeze. She then turned my whole macho, I-know-it-all facade out of the window and showed me the path, the truth and the way-to-kiss-a-woman! She kissed me, but like for real! I truly was in heaven man! [I Kissed Her In A Way That I Never Kissed A Girl Before...] Well I was there, in heaven that is, up until she told me that she had a boyfriend. She told me his name was Chummy. I soiled myself! After having changed my shorts, she told me that she was dating Keith Everett - Chummy. He was the biggest mutha that I knew. Shoot he was two years ahead of me, two years. The worst part was that he also went to St. Aidan's. Oh God I knew I was gonna die! Christ I was only just sixteen. Why, oh why did I have to go now? Hail Mary full of grace..... Our Father, please just take me now, before Chummy emasculates me. Oh Mommy why did you and Dad send me to boarding school? Was I really as naughty as you.....? Damn, why was this goose kissing me? Didn't she realize that I wasn't ready to die?! Jeeze, I was still a virgin. If Chummy ever found out that I'd been kissing his steady..... The consequences were just too dire to contemplate. Toot, toot, clickety-click, screech! Toossshhhh! The train had stopped in Grahamstown! I'd never known the train to get to Grahamstown so damned quickly. She had someone waiting on the platform to help her unload her somewhat heavy bags, thank God, and then she was gone! Now what? Beech and his folks were late getting to the station - this had given me time to really get worried - and eventually we were off to Martindale, the farm. I didn't mention a word to anyone about Marilyn. I'd already started thinking of a plan to plead temporary insanity. If that didn't work, I'd be dead. Chummy wasn't going to be pleased when he found out about this little lot. Hey! Maybe she wouldn't tell him. That would be better still. But maybe she would tell him. [Hello Darkness My Old Friend...] That evening I made an idiot of myself, not something new to me, I might add! I spurted a whole fork-load of peas all over the dinner table! The phone had rung and Beech's kid sister had answered. She'd called Beech's mom to the phone! When the old lady returned to the dinning room, she blurted out, 'Oh I believe you met Marilyn on the train this afternoon!' (Shows how small Grahamstown is!) The peas, which had just been off loaded into my mouth, were everywhere! I wanted to die. I remember muttering under my breath that maybe now would be a good time for the angels to take me. Why wait any longer? I got a kick under the table, 'Sherbet were you with Marilyn on the train? You lucky bugger! Chummy is going to kill you if he finds out!' These encouraging words were from Beech! Needless to say, the old lady wanted to know everything. What we'd talked about on the train. A thousand questions. Yeah, like I was gonna tell the old duck anything! Ga! Forget it! [You'll Never Know How Much I Really Love You... Do You Want To Know A Secret?...] When we got back to school I kept as low a profile as I could, but on the first night back, straight after benediction, Chummy grabbed hold of me. I knew I was gonna die. This was it. My time had come. Oh well, my life had been fruitful, at least I'd learnt how to kiss! This guy was the size of three brick houses and as strong as Charles Atlas. 'Oh my God, I am sorry and beg pardon for all my sins...' 'Are you Chris Boyle?' 'Y-yes!' I stammered. 'Do you know my chick, Marilyn?' 'Y-yes Chummy I do, but nothing......' 'She told me about you. She likes you. She thinks you're a nice guy. She told me that I must make sure that you stay that way! She told me to be your body guard because you're her little boyfriend! You got any problems with that?' 'Hell no Chummy, I'm cool! You're the boss, anyone who gives me any grief, I'll just refer them to you!' Phew! How lucky could one guy get? Hey God, thanks hey, you're okay by me! Okay if I don't come now? Could we save it for another day?' [Oh Yes I Wonder What She's Doin' Tonight... If I Had Told Her That I Love Her...] Well folks, for all intents and purposes, you could say that the story ended here, but it didn't. Barely six months after this, I had a rather profound change in my life, I had an accident. The wire on a tree-slide snapped and I broke my neck. It was on the 20th July 1967! It was a typical winter's day on the Highveld. [Frost The Snowman... Da, Da, Da...] The last Thursday of the winter holidays. A bunch of us had gone up to our friend, Robert's, home. The idea was that Robert and I would spend an hour or two practicing target shooting, then we'd have lunch together and spend the rest of the day listening to records. Robert's kid brother had built a foefie-slide - a piece of half-inch water pipe with a length of wire threaded through it. Each end of the wire is secured. One end up high in a tree, the other end at the base of another tree. One hangs on to the pipe and slides down rather quickly. As I mentioned, the wire snapped while I was still very high up. I knew immediately, when I hit the ground that I was paralyzed. Without wanting to sound too dramatic, I'll tell you that I had major surgery. I was in a coma for three weeks and ended up spending nearly three years in hospital. The end result was incomplete quadriplegia. Subsequent to all this, in '95, I was diagnosed with a rare phenomenon called a syringomyelia. This has resulted in my becoming a full quadriplegic. As can be expected, a new life began for me. I did not relish it being dumped on me, but on reflection, it's just as well that it happened to me, and not to any of my friends. I don't think any of them could have coped. I was just too hard-headed to give up. I never have, I never will. But hey, that's not where I'm going. I want to tell you how I managed to survive those three years in hospital! I'd listen to the radio. LM Radio was foremost on my listening agenda. I can't speak for anyone else who may have ended up like I am, but I found solace in living my memories over and over again! I must have kissed Marilyn a million times. In the last thirty five years I've never forgotten her. There were other memories, granted, but none so profoundly provocative, so... so how do I put this? So bloody wonderful as Marilyn! [You Are My Special Angel...] Over the years the story of Marilyn has been told many times. Beech, and others, have mercilessly pulled my leg about the girl who taught me how to kiss. Beech, because his family and Marilyn's were friends, the others because I think that they thought that Marilyn was a figment of my imagination! [But She's Not There...] Last year, in October, Marilyn contacted me! I had jokingly, having been egged on by my old school buddies, placed an advert in the You magazine. You know, one of those 'I am desperately looking for...' columns. Somehow Marilyn heard about this plea and wrote to me. She has a family and now lives in Vancouver. We have struck up a great friendship and it's so nice to know she's there, my saving grace, as it were, through all those hard years in hospital! Funny how this has turned full circle and lives on today, literally as I write this to you. Chummy? Well he lives somewhere in Oz, I believe! This is what kept me going in hospital, and even up to today, the memory of a chance encounter that happened so long ago. My love of the music from that era has been my drug, it still is. There is no greater pick me up for when I'm feeling blue, than to crank the volume on my hi-fi and listen to some 'good time, low down rock 'n roll, yeah!' Yes there are other special memories, they've even probably been elevated to a point almost beyond reality, but they are my memories, my music, my LM Radio. [I Saw Her Again Last Night...] Thank God for the likes of Mr. Radio - David Davies, my Gê - Yukkle Stukkle - John Berks, On The Beat With Pete De Nobrega. Daryl Jooste, Evelyn Martin, Harold West, and all the rest of the wizards who cast such magic spells at LM Radio, I salute you my dear friends. May everyone's memories of you all live on through the thoughtfulness of www.pumamouse.com and all involved with her. For me, LM will never die. [Born To Be Wild...] Please note that the names I have used are to protect, in particular Marilyn, from anyone else trying to score a kiss from her, but also to prevent anyone from having to 'Please explain'! This story has been told to emphasis the magic it meant to me as a young person battling to come to terms with a tremendous set back. Please see it as such, in all it's innocence. Beech? Well what can I say? Beech was, Beech is, Beech will always be my dearest friend. God bless you all. Chris Boyle Johannesburg, South Africa August 2002 |
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| LM RADIO "My First Kiss" By Chris Boyle |
| The following essay was written and provided by loyal LM Radio listener, Chris Boyle, Johannesburg, South Africa. Thank you, Chris!!! My First Kiss Written by Chris Boyle |
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