A couple of weeks ago my Mom and Dad made the journey ‘up north’ to see me and together we played the role of wide eyed tourists around the city of Liverpool. I don’t get to see ‘the olds’ that much so it was fun to hang out with them for a couple of days.
It’s been many years since I traipsed around the museums and galleries of a city with my Mom and Dad. The last time we would have done something like this would probably have been when I was a kid and when the pair of them stood taller than I. Back then, with my brother and sister, we headed into London on a few occasions to check out the sites and museums.
I remember standing on the platform of Chelmsford train station waiting for the big diesel train to rattle into sight slowly coming to rest in front of us. The adventure of getting onto a train and racing to a window seat was exciting. A few minutes later the conductor would come around and give us tickets from a machine that was powered by the turn of a handle. It’s funny how clearly I remember sitting at the window looking at the passing scenery swinging my legs that were too short to reach the floor if I sat back in the seat. Every so often the trains horn would sound sending a rush of delight through me. ‘Make way, make way! We’re going to London.’ I would think to myself.
It’s funny the things that stick in your mind. Like Dad telling me that he stood in the same place on the station platform every single day on his commute to London. He told me how he would sit next to the same people every day. “Do you chat to them?” I asked. “A little bit, but not really.” He replied.
As the train rattled and shook its way along the tracks to Liverpool Street Station, we would eat sweets like ‘Chewits’ with their different colored wrappers. Dad discarded his on the floor of the train and was swiftly told off by Mom. He was keeping someone in a job, a train cleaner he said. But Mom just fixed him the kind of look that told him without words that picking up the wrapper was the only option. He did so, putting it in his pocket as my sister, Louise, and I laughed at how he got told off.
I can’t really recall much about the museums and galleries themselves. The Science Museum was cool because it had space exhibits which you could walk in and out of, buttons you could press that would make things light up, and levers you could pull that would make noises. I do remember thinking that the Victoria and Albert museum must surely be a very boring place. A museum all about some couple called Victoria and Albert wouldn’t likely have buttons to press or levers to pull. It would probably be more like a stuffy old library with adults who tell you to “shush!” all the time, putting there finger on their lips as they look down at you sternly, I thought.
Just as we had done all those years ago, we again took the train into the city. Mom specifically wanted to see the Maritime Museum which was far more interesting that I thought it might be. Something I found a little amusing was the fact that this time, rather than it being me who was zooming past the display cases and carefully arranged artifacts, it was Mom who was speeding her way through the museum. It made no real difference though because the pair of us had to wait for Dad who took his own sweet time wandering through the history laden walkways.
The Tate Gallery was our next stop. It’s a modern art gallery full of pieces that make you wonder why it is you never became the kind of artist who could talk about something like an upside-down glass mannequin in such a way that makes other people feel that can’t say that it’s just an upside-down glass mannequin. There was one piece that made an impression though, ‘The Passing Winter’ by Yayoi Kusama was a glass box made up of mirrors with holes in which you could peer at the amazing infinite reflections.
To round off our day of sightseeing Dad suggested we jump onto an open top bus tour of Liverpool. We sat back and relaxed as it trundled around the city streets telling us facts and figures most of which I’ve already forgotten. If you ever come to this city I would recommend this attraction because you can jump on and off the bus as many times as you like in 24 hours.
All in all it was a great weekend. We spent a great deal of the time just chatting. It’s funny how the dynamic between us has changed over the years, yet in many ways it’s remained the same. It wasn’t always easy between us, we had our ups and downs as we all grew up, like most families I guess. But as I chatted with ‘the olds’ over dinner on Sunday I realised that these two people really did do a great job of raising three kids who, though I say so myself, have all turned out to be decent people. We might not be the Walton’s but I’m proud to be the second son of Alan and Jennifer Jones.
Wrote the following comment on May 27, 2009 at 5:22 pm
Nice post mate. I think your olds are cool, so full of character and odd phrases. I especially love your Dad’s irreverence and disregard for political correctness. Whenever I see them, they greet me with great fondness, and I guess that’s where you get your gift of hospitality from.
I wish I could speak of my own parents with such fondness :-/
Wrote the following comment on May 27, 2009 at 7:11 pm
That’s a lovely post Simon. Sounds like you had a really nice weekend. The open top bus looks like fun. I see them down here in London all the time and often think to myself that when I have a visitor we’ll do that, but we never do.
Oh PS. You should work in marketing Simon, because you were clearly ahead of the curve in your observation about the Victoria and Albert Museum. It’s now called the “V and A.”
Wrote the following comment on May 28, 2009 at 12:08 am
What a sweet post. I think they’ll both appreciate the last line.
Parenting is a real challenge. Not so long ago my Mom and I were talking about it when she told me something that made me laugh out loud. She said “When you were a kid you would often threaten to run away. Sometimes that was the only thing that kept me going!”
I love my Mom :)
Wrote the following comment on May 28, 2009 at 3:06 am
“The olds” LOL!
Wrote the following comment on May 28, 2009 at 4:48 am
i love my mom!!!
My dad is also ok
Wrote the following comment on May 28, 2009 at 10:56 am
That was such a wonderful post Simon! It made me smile :)
The pic of the mirrors is such a “you” shot :P
Oh but I adored the V&A and went there 3 times during my 6 months in London.
Wrote the following comment on May 28, 2009 at 12:07 pm
A few weekends ago I was with Eric in Atlanta. He took me to his favorite restaurants, we shopped, and spent a day at the zoo and later the museum of art. I could only hope that his reflections of the days were like yours; except for the “olds” part…but speaking from the other side of your story – it was wonderful to be with my adult son; to have memories of doing these things when he was child – all big eyed and awestruck…and to see the same pleasure in his grown up face. The conversation is so much better these days too. I don’t have your writing skills; but thank you for the opportunity to remember and share my weekend with “the young”!
Wrote the following comment on May 28, 2009 at 6:05 pm
My eldest son told me that parents are like an aging whisky. What they lose in volume as they age, they gain in flavour. I liked that because he was actually having a sly laugh at the fact that I am shrinking!