Here’s looking at me kid…

Another me popped up on Facebook last night.

I almost recognised him; he was almost me. Even though he was dressed as an Egyptian dilettante with underworld connections. Yes, I was mysterious back then and my name was Mr Cairo.

That fake tan streaked and took weeks to wash off. Of course it was the eighties so it didn't matter, everyone was orange back then and I was at a big house in Edgbaston, a place I really had no right to be, but my chum Paul took pity on me and got me invited to the best murder party I have ever been to. When I turned up it was raining, but only above the door of the lovely house courtesy of a hosepipe. So theatrical… It has stuck with me all these years.

The party was great. I had no idea who dunnit, or where, or with what, 
but as I wandered around the house trying to lose my wife of the time so I could enjoy myself (cast as a nanny, much to her annoyance) I had a thought… There was more to life than I realised.


Just who was that masked man in the fez? You can't see his mask but it was clearly there. I don't know even now. What was I playing at and just how had I got to who and where I was back then?

Life is a mystery, as Toyah Wilcox almost said.

Anyway, that party was a turning point for me. For some strange reason I realised that I was meant to do more than drink mild and bitter and eat curry on a Saturday night. Mr Cairo slowly became El Grosso Fez, thanks to my buddy Glyn, and he has been my alter ego for all these years in-between and one who, at times, I have had to moderate.

Looking at these images of the past is like watching an old silent movie. I remember how I felt generally, the fun I had, my annoyance that my fun was limited, but I can't hear the words or remember all the characters so it doesn't help me to understand the story. Oh well, I guess I was lucky to have the chance to be there in the first place.

Strange how, on the flip of a coin (ffffflip) a whole world can change. Life is chance, death is chance, chance is chance, it is all chance...

That was the night when I believe I became aspirational, inspirational, a chameleon, comedian, Corinthian and a caricature – or some such nonsense. From council house kid to a surrealist dreamer all in the space of a single fantastic fireworky night.

Of course, it took me a while, far longer than it should, to grow into my new skin - there was baggage to lose all along the way - but eventually I made it I think.

So today I’m not sitting at the Blue Parrot sucking away at my hookah, nor am I about to board the Orient Express. But that night changed me and made me into a different person and for that I will be eternally grateful to almost all of the people involved that night. I’m pleased to have the pictures to remember me by (thanks Paul) and I will keep them here for all time. They make a difference and made me different.

And as El Grosso Fez always says (even when I try to shut him the fuck up), ‘Here’s looking at me kid.’