Freed From Desire in Ironbridge
Sitting on the riverbank with Stephen King (again)
“I think of Elaine, standing in the door of the sunroom and telling Brad Dolan to leave me alone. Sometimes I doze and see that underpass in the rain, with John Coffey standing beneath it in the shadows. It’s never just a trick of the eye, in these little dreams; it’s always him for sure, my big boy, just standing there and watching. I lie here and wait. I think about Janice, how I lost her, how she ran away red through my fingers in the rain, and I wait. We each owe a death, there are no exceptions, I know that, but sometimes, oh God, the Green Mile is so long”.
“The Green Mile” by Stephen King, 1996
The bells of St Luke’s Church had just finished their 12 hourly chimes of freedom as my son and I crossed the oldest iron bridge in the world and entered the toytown of Ironbridge. It was the easiest of journeys with the sunshine company of a young man in control of the music that veered from The Proclaimers to Bob Marley to Bruce Springsteen before, at my insistence, his first listen of “Freed From Desire” by Gala. To explain why would send us hurtling into murky and tangential waters for a song I shouldn’t ordinarily like but do, and then I’d have to explain why and then quite frankly I’d have to explain a link to “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes and why this song has been corrupted in much the same way and I fear you’ll look at me in much the same way as my beautiful son did when I explained it to him earlier: namely like a piece of moldy cheese, and who needs that kind of surreal embarrassment on a thundery night on our prehistoric rock spinning through an unquantifiable infinity as we all await the crazies to finally unleash nuclear Armageddon on Iran?
Not me Jack.
So shall we surf the rather easier waters by stating that my spiritual home looked a pip and a dandy in the early afternoon sunshine, Jeremy the genial owner of toytown’s one and only “Old Fashioned Sweet Shop” had a smile and welcome he seemingly only has and reserves for the visit of my sweet toothed son, and after departing his tiny emporium to all things sweets with a bag of sour cherry lips and cherry cola bottles my son and I fed a small gathering of ducks on the riverbank, both lamenting the lack of swans this year and after watching “Pepper” (a black and white bundle of doggy fun) splashing around in the river, we departed for the sunshine of the nearby public park and some fun and board games over a picnic breakfast in the early afternoon sun?
Yes, that seems a safe enough place to commence this brief tale.
Act One: An Uno Lesson is unleashed under a blistering sun
Lad 0
Dad 3
Oops! The Uno Master is defeated, and he didn’t like it one bit! Game One was a tight affair and surprisingly our only closely contested Game of the Three, but with my son still needing 16 points for victory I crossed the winning line to triumph by 114 points to 84. Games Two and Three (and my son will not need reminding of this painful fact) were all rather serene for today’s victor as Game Two was wrapped up in short order (111 points to 15) before I whitewashed him 117 points to 0 in the final Game, giving rise to my son exclaiming “I’m fucked with this game!” and we moved onto a game of Yahtzee even before we’d finished our bacon sandwiches.
Act Two: “I shouldn’t have crossed out my Yahtzee box”
Lad 207
Dad 274
First the lad threw two 3’s, then another couple, and after blowing on the final dice for luck, a final 3 tumbled from his excited hands. “Yahtzee!” he wailed. “Yes, back in the game” he continued, oblivious to my sniggering and tittering, the reason for which slowly dawned on him. It was late in the game and having thrown a worthless hand previously, had to chalk off a scoring box with a big, fat, zero. “Fuck!” he exclaimed before a rather more quiet and solemn “I shouldn’t have crossed out my Yahtzee box”. Through a mouthful of Cherry Cola bottles I tried to console him(?) by stating he’d still score 15 points (I didn’t like to point out that it should have been 50…) but words were rather superfluous at this point in proceedings as he stuffed his mouth with some sour Cherry Lips, swallowed, and with a sigh announced “You’re going to win anyway”.
Which I did!
My son is such a sore loser. The sour apple clearly hasn’t fallen far from my sweet filled tree.
Act Three: Tri-ominos delight for young master Blackford
Lad 222
Dad 174
For Tri-ominos think dominos but with numbered triangular pieces and for your best scoring options (25 Points) a “Bridge” connects two currently unconnected pieces of the board and (50 Points) a “Hexagon” is a sixth piece of the tangled jigsaw spreading out across your picnic blanket and in between the crumbs of the bread from the bacon sandwiches of earlier. Bridges are easy to come by as the game develops. Hexagons frustratingly less so. But therein lies the beauty of this silly game I bought from a charity shop here in Toy Town well over a decade ago and which continues to sustain my interest, and just about for my son. When he wins of course! Which he did today and in double quick time and despite, infuriatingly despite, my laying of the game’s one and only Hexagon. But the name of the game is to place all your tiles before your opponent, scoop up his remaining tiles/points as your own, thus you have a winner, and today it was the kid in The Shining t-shirt.
My son spun the musical discs on the short return journey, Springsteen back to Bob Marley and the forever enchanting “Sunshine on Leith” by The Proclaimers. I told my son something during our early afternoon picnic in the sunshine of Toy Town, and his response made my heart swell as big and wide as the smile on my face.
Do you want to know what I told him?
Thanks for reading. Here are some more Ironbridge tales from last summer and all wrapped up in 170+ of the finest pages known to man or woman, free to read on Kindle Unlimited, but reasonably priced and a pip and a dandy in paperback and hardback:
"My Ironbridge Summer" - link to Amazon
Your day in Ironbridge with your son sounds absolutely perfect.
Those little moments with your son will turn into lifelong memories.
And the way you write about it all makes me feel like I was right there with you, laughing at the Uno showdown.
It honesty brightened my day 😊