"Why are you called 'Kid'? Is it because you act like one?"
If I had a pound for every time I've been asked that, I'd have - well, I'd have a pound actually, so I don't suppose there's really too much interest in the topic. However, I have to fill this blog with something, so - assuming you'll bear with me in yet another act of shameless self-indulgence - I shall address the issue in the forlorn hope that anybody even remotely cares.
There was a period during my early teenage years when I called everyone "kid". It was short, snappy, and it meant never having to worry about remembering people's names. One day, I ran into a pal of mine in the company of a group of his friends. Anticipating my familiar, well-worn greeting, he thought he'd get in first in a daring act of mockery at my little peccadillo. (Feel free to supply your own amusing rejoinder to that last sentence.) "Hi Kid!" he said with a cheeky grin upon his smug countenance, immensely satisfied with himself for - in his mind - 'beating me to the punch'.
His pals were unaware of his intended 'irony' however, and merely assumed it to be my nickname. But ours is a drama decreed by the fates to be acted out (always loved that line by LARRY LIEBER); I subsequently became friendly with that little group, who - in their innocence - always referred to me by that appellation. And so the name stuck and I've been known as "Kid" - to them and to others - ever since.
But whence came the habit which led to me effectively naming myself? Why did I call people "kid" to begin with? I'm glad I pretended you asked. You see, back in the early 1970s, there was a brilliant comedy show called WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE LIKELY LADS, starring JAMES BOLAM and RODNEY BEWES. In fact, as their names had alternating billing from week to week, if you re-read that last sentence, reverse the order of their names so that I don't hear from their agents or solicitors.
Although the programme was a comedy, it also had pathos, poignancy and profundity - otherwise known as the three Ps. During the course of their frequent nostalgia-laden soliloquies, the characters often addressed each other as "kid" or "kidda". In my devotion to the programme and my desire to emulate the two main characters, I soon adopted the practice of referring to everyone I knew (and even some I didn't) as "kidda", which resulted in some fairly puzzled looks. That's because the words "kidda" and "kidder" sound pretty similar when pronounced with a lazy Glaswegian accent, and this made folks think I was accusing them of pulling my leg in some way.
"Kidder?" they'd say in a slightly bewildered manner (likewise mispronouncing it as "kidda") - "Kiddin' about what?" Well, it didn't take me too long to realize that adopting the shorter option - "kid" - would avoid any unnecessary confusion amongst my sturdy band of companions and free me from having to endlessly explain myself. It could've been far worse, as I'd once been in the habit of exclaiming "Jings, man!" in response to anything of even a vaguely interesting or surprising nature.
This inevitably led to all my friends and acquaintances calling me "Jings-Man" every time I appeared on the horizon. Fortunately, I soon dropped the use of this 'oath' (doubtless acquired from reading too many BROONS and OOR WULLIE strips in The SUNDAY POST) and thus escaped any longterm association with the name which could've resulted in lasting damage to my delicate sensibilities. I much prefer being called "Kid" - or "Sir", even. (In fact, now that I come to think about it, "Master" is good as well.)
And there you have it! The hitherto secret origin of how I gained my teenage nickname which has remained with me to this day. And you also have an object lesson in the art of writing something about nothing - but you should only ever do so if your very life depends on it, so I have absolutely no excuse.
12 comments:
I read that James Bolam and Rodney Bewes had a bitter 'falling out' after Bewes betrayed a confidence. I wonder what they were calling each other, privately, after that?
Rodney denied for years that such a thing had happened, but finally admitted it in his autobiography. Apparently, Rodney may have let slip in an unguarded moment that James Bolam's wife was expecting, and, when it was duly reported in the papers, Bolam wasn't too happy.
Bewes was the one who had to do all the publicity for the programme because Bolam didn't want to know. In fact, he's not even even sure whether, in his anxious desire to say something during an interview, he even mentioned the rather innocuous snippet.
However, in conceding the possibility that, with a few glasses of wine under his belt, he MAY have inadvertently mentioned it, James Bolam hung up the 'phone on him and never spoke to him again.
Shame, eh?
A shame, indeed. I wonder if they're still at odds, even after all these years?
I imagine so. Bewes' autobiography is only a few years old - and Bolam seems an uncompromising sort.
radio 4 extra are currently running 'the likely lads' radio series and i must admit it is pretty good and instantly transports you to the seventies..in a good way,'kid'.
its only on digital i presume,If you dont have a digital radio,I cant recommend it enough.
I haven't had a chance to listen to them recently, but I heard a few of them back in the '70s, and again last year on Radio 7 (I think), which is now Radio 4 Extra.
I've also got the complete DVD collection, plus the movie.
Thanks for commenting.
And all this time I thought it was because you , like myself (and Peter Pan) have never grown up! Incidentally I heard that the Likely Lads' fall our was because the confidence betrayed was what actually happened to Terry's leg, as he didn't like to talk about it!
There actually IS an earlier Peter Pan connection which makes my nickname extremely "apt 'though but" (as Terry would say) - remind me to tell it sometime.
THAT'S how long it's been then, eh?
Whilst I'm here I might as well put some captions to the pix!
1. Terry: By heck Bob, the old leg's givin' me some jip today!
Bob: Why, what's up with your leg, Kidda?
Terry: Oh, I never talk about it....
2. YOU'LL get yer money, YOU'LL get her money!
3. Thelma and I are not speaking....
And don't forget "Thelma, I refuse to discuss the matter!"
And what about - "Here you are, Bob, drink that while it's hot!"
And then there's "I don't just have the window." (In response to Terry asking "You've got a car?" when Bob said he'd seen old Cluffie through the window while out in his car.)
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