The Autobiography of a Justified Rebel

The Autobiography of a Justified Rebel
August 2004
The possibility of living to be fifty has begun to solidify; I feel I have come to the time when I wish to unburden my soul, confess my sins and bore my old friends.
After leaving the Pink Penitentiary (1972) I attended the University of Malawi, briefly. Three years further on I was working on a drilling rig in the North Sea. Such was the nature of saving the world from an energy crisis that I wished I had taken Games more seriously. I recollect hiding in an upstairs gymnasium with Peter Gaussen and Julian Hartley. In one corner a frightfully handsome young man was pumping enough iron for all of us. I did manage to build up the stamina required for oilfield work.
I confess that I enjoyed the oilfield life at one time. It helped to subsidise a love of motorcycles and a memorable marriage. When poverty and end of marriage came I remembered the motorcycle that Richard Mongar had owned. I once travelled on the pillion of that machine to the Mongar Estate, I had faith in the name of MZ motorcycles. That was in 1982, I’ve owned an MZ ever since!
Around 1991 I helped to found an offshore oilfield trade union. Being a nuisance in the world of politics seemed to fulfill some inner need. At school I had tried to promote Peter Gaussen’s claim in the advisory election for Head Boy. In 1993 my efforts gained a measure of recognition. “Do not pass Go. Do not collect £200. …” I retired from that line of work in 1994.
In 1996 I attended a re-union on that hill of painful and pleasant memories. I spoke to Ralph Berry, Jumbo Barker and Jane Carter, amongst others. Tom Robinson spoke very well on his mixed memories of “The School”. I can’t say I was keen to go to the re-union, but I was glad I had done so.
I have been leading a more sustainable life of late. I’m sorry that I missed the 2003 re-union. I am currently studying Spanish at Aberdeen University, with a view to visiting Latin America. One of the most influential motorcyclists in history was an Argentinian named Ernesto Guevara de la Serna. Perhaps Dave the Rave and I can organise a pilgrimage together!
Louis Mair
Previously published on anguswillson.com and pannage.com/fssw73/172