It took a very long time for the scars to heal after I'd been cane-thrashed when I was 12. But if you come
really close - so close that I can feel your breath on my skin - you might just be able to make out remaining traces of that horrific punishment, most especially on the right side where, if I'd had foresight, I would first have removed the coins in my shorts back pocket. It was there where I was cut the most, even drawing blood. (Wearing underpants under shorts was, bizarrely, completely forbidden.) But carrying coins in my pocket hadn't been on my mind then, as I was practically cacking myself when I realised the treatment I was going to get from that fuckin' sadistic priest/troop leader as he frog-marched me down the campsite field to the 'punishment tree' by the small stream where I had to bend over the low-hanging branch and hold my knees, with hands already sting-numbed by the vicious caning applied to both palms - then to have the cane rained down without mercy on my backside, until I collapsed onto the ground as a screaming, blubbing wreck. NOT a pretty sight, especially for my entire troop purposely assembled to witness my painful downfall - who, I'd imagine, watched with mixed feelings of horror, fascination and (I'd like to think) sympathy at the disproportionate severity of the punishment . Is it any wonder that the absurdly extreme treatment developed into one of my many subsequent interests? - a liking of C.P., both as receiver
and giver!
When I go hitch-hiking in the English countryside, this is the 'uniform' I like to copy in order to get noticed by passing traffic - and, boy, does it work! It could hardly be any more conspicuous. Of course, many drivers give me a look and get scared off, thinking I must be a bit crazy and not to be trusted. But sometimes it not only works. often with a bemused smile or even laughs, when it's said that I look like an overgrown boy scout or a British army desert rat in north Africa. I occasionally strike lucky in finding a driver who, after I've made some leading suggestions, is game for a bit of 'fun' either in the car/van/lorry or outside in a field or in the bushes. I'll probably tell in future blogs of some of my successes - and failures - as well as at least a couple of scares when I presumed too much, after having drunk too many cans of beer before being picked up.
(Btw: I got this pic off the internet. I don't know this guy - but I certainly wouldn't say "No" to him.)
