the passport saga has cost me cash, time and anxiety.
i am not going to be happy until the darn thing is in my hot sweaty hands, but it looks like its about waiting now.
was a bit shocked that there was nothing about occupation or distinquishing mark...
and supposedly the biometerics (if my passport is one) can be done from the shitty photos of me - yeah right.
one of the things i had to do was get a birth certificate. this has then got me thinking about my mum and dad. until recently i had no idea when they got married, now i know roughly when they got married - and i will get that certificate in march. luckily the wedding certificate has their birthdates on it because guess what i have no idea about their birth dates (so much so that on my mum's death certificate i had to tell them she was born around 1930.....) (i know i know what a shitty son i was ....)
anyway for a time i thought that i would need the birth dates of my parents for the passport application. just get the wedding cerificate i hear you cry, well it costs and it takes time. time i didn't have. so i turned to google. put in my dad's name and i get a bunch of americans. no good. add in another search definer and i get court cases at the old bailey. closer to home (and ironically dad worked near there) but the wrong time period.
the name was going nowhere.
so lets use my birth address.
now i knew that my parents had been involved in three pubs when i lived in the east end,
the victory - i remember it being a gorgeous pub, but i knew it was knocked down and not where i was born,.
the carpenter's arms - in cheshire street (not my birth address)
and the one i forgot, which is my birth address.
so do a google on 154 brick lane - up comes the two brewers. ah thats the one. nothing about my dad. blast. some guff about it being linked to the ripper (but then the local sweet shop could also argue it probably was a place where jack hung out...) oh and whats this...
well blow me down and knock me over with a feather trevor.
but 154 brick lane is now famous for something else.
oh yes it is coffee@ in brick lane. an establishment i frequent on a very regular basis, and have remained remarkably loyal to over the years. now it just feels very odd to know i have been going there all this time and i was born there.
small world.
2 comments:
There's something poetic in that the pub you were born in has become a coffee house - given you're teetotal and drink coffee by the gallon-load. And Brick Lane as well - what a rich history.
Beats a ceasarian in Harold Wood Hospital. (My mum might well agree!).
add in the ever present they loved their mum krays....
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