I was born in London and until I was nine or so, we lived in the East End, just off Well Street Market.

My memories of that time are a bit mixed, it was safe to be a kid on the streets and anybody that tried to even talk to children that they didn’t know were taking a real chance with their health.

My parents moved us out partly because of me, I was very good at Judo and getting better.

But I was also fighting on a daily basis, I got the shit kicked out of me by a 15 year old Turk and went back for another beating every few days.

I wasn’t going to stop until I beat him.

Or. You know.

So we moved out and I kept moving, further North every time.

So, I’ve moved from the 3rd floor of this place, not even a balcony.

To here :

I had a few different jobs along the way, including a part time role as a nightclub bouncer on the Old Kent Road and I’m still proud of the fact that I never once had to lay hands on anybody.

I was back in London on Thursday, catching up with the Smurf (she’s made a full recovery) and we had a nice dinner, some drinks and a singalong in the Marquis pub and then a wander before I saw her to the Tube.

I had a slow walk back to the Rag Club and a last drink in the bar.

Pall Mall is dead at night these days and there’s so few people that you can actually stop and take photos.

And then, on Friday morning I went home.

The doglets made their usual fuss and we did a shortish walk as it was hot ( three miles or so ) and then it was a pub lunch at the Joules brewery.

A completely different life in the space of one short train journey.

Why am I writing this?

I had two conversations over the course of twelve hours.

One with The Smurf, she’s Jewish and is becoming increasingly more scared about living in this country.

She asked me what I would do if somebody broke into my house to hurt us?

This is clearly a big concern for her and my simple answer was, ‘I have a lot of trees’.

She lives in London so doesn’t have that little bonus, but her husband paid more than a million pound in taxes last year and it’s a saddening fact that my friend is seriously thinking of getting out of the country – and that the country will lose that much needed money.

The second conversation was with a black cab driver – we talked about moving to the country after he’d picked up on my not quite Northern accent.

He asked if the local town was fucked up yet?

The answer is no – right now.

But unless we do something, it’s coming, we’ll have a sudden unexplained spike in violent crime, rape and robbery.

Then we’ll find out that a group of unvetted savages have been given free accommodation, money and the freedom to do whatever the fuck they want.

But something seems to be shifting, ordinary people are making more noise, protesting and demanding change.

Our government of course, want to clamp down more and more, but it genuinely feels like they may lose this one.

Something needs to change.

And soon.

To repeat myself, I love films and it’s the small moments that stay with me more than the big megabucks sequences.

And once again.

It’s The Terminator

Sarah Connor:

What did he just say?

Gas Station Attendant: He said there’s a storm coming in.

Sarah Connor: [sighs] I know

Get ready – pick a side.

I already have.