Another Blonde Chapter: A beach too far

There she was, waiting, just where she said she would be, and bang on time, now what more can a young boy want, a girl ….. and a car.

The Saint, the Baron, the Avengers and Department ‘S’ were on TV that summer; Pet Sounds was the album that everybody had. Except me, I just wasn’t made for times like these, I didn’t have a TV, and I didn’t have a copy of Pet Sounds either. But Caroline did. And she had a car. Now how far is Portstewart? Now wouldn’t it be nice, to be able to turn to her and say “let’s go away for awhile”.

Sloop John B and God Only Knows was playing on the radio as we made our way up the Antrim Coast Road. I only wish the DJ had a copy of Don’t Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder) as we stopped for a break in the driving.

Once or twice, I had to say “Caroline, No”, “that’s not me”, “I’m waiting for the day”. I know there’s an answer, but when you hadn’t been to Portstewart before with a blonde in a 1968 Triumph Herald convertible. You can take the boy out of Belfast, but you can’t take Belfast out of the boy.

Now dealing with 4 speed gearbox with synchromesh on the top three gears; coil and double-wishbone front suspension and independent springing on a Triumph Herald convertible is one thing, but having to come across suspender belt and stockings on a Trinity College Dublin girl for the first time is another.

You still believe me, that’s there’s this girl, and she’s a stunner, and the cutest blonde hair ten times better than Dusty, and it’s the height of summer and you’re lying on the beach here today, and you don’t notice the tide coming in.

Now hang on to your ego Caroline, I know it’s your mum’s car, and I know she thinks you’re only in Lisburn with the girls shopping, but thanks to that nice AA man we’re on our way home at last.

The next time I saw Caroline we took the bus, down into Belfast, and listened to the man who played the saw at City Hall. But pastie suppers, gravy rings, barmbracks, Wagon wheels, and snowballs eventually separated me from Caroline. I came to see her for what she was, a girl from the other side of town, and I guess she saw me as a bit too much pasty suppers, gravy rings, barmbracks, Wagon wheels, and snowballs. I was more the Stadium; she was more the Opera house.

And I guess Caroline is history, but she still is another blonde chapter.

Another Blonde Chapter: A beach too far

ragman

Mill Isle, Ireland

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Artist's Description

A day on the beach with a blonde, With thanks to more than a few Beach Boys tracks for a bit of inspiration

You can take the boy out of Belfast, but you can’t take Belfast out of the boy.

A book about a boy and blondes from the Belfast of Van Morrison

Artwork Comments

  • Debbie Black
  • ragman
  • sticky
  • ragman
  • sticky
  • ragman
  • DeniedFixation
  • ragman
  • David A. Everitt (aka silverstrummer)
  • ragman
  • ragman
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