How Son of My Father Found Its Name - The Story Behind a Book Title, and a Half-Forgotten Song

In 2022, I wrote a book called Son of My Father.

I remember the moment the title came to me. I was pacing around my home, thinking — searching for a phrase that might hold the whole story together. Titles can be elusive things, they are jotted down, forgotten, some look great, then they don’t. I had a handful of ideas, each discarded for one reason or another. 

None seemed to bring the chapters together in the way I wanted.

At one stage, I had an idea that I felt could really work — to open each chapter with a subheading drawn from a song of the time. A piece of music that had shaped not only my personal experiences, but also the atmosphere of the era I was writing about. I imagined each song acting as a lyrical thread connecting memory, mood, and meaning to the story.

Then reality intervened. Copyright.

Yes, “fair use” might have allowed me to borrow a few lines, but even that felt like a legal grey area. The deeper I looked, the more it became a potential minefield of permissions and costs. Reluctantly, I let the idea go.

Still, once music had entered the conversation, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Songs have a way of unlocking memory, and as I sifted through those from my past, one stood out: Son of My Father, a 1972 hit by Chicory Tip.

I can’t say the band were favourites of mine, nor that the song had any special place in my life at the time. I remember it being played on the radio and Top of the Pops, but I was more into music by T Rex, Slade, Sweet and ELO. Years later, the song — and something in its story — resonated. It felt as though it was an ideal title for the book.

Here’s the song:

I later discovered that the title had been used before — in books, in other contexts — but that didn’t matter. For me, it fit.

Because although my book isn’t solely about my relationship with my dad, he is the presence that runs through it. The man, the mystery. As he left my life almost fifty years ago now, the book is most of what I know about him.

Writing Son of My Father was, in part, an act of discovery — not just about the past, but about what remains when memory fades and imagination takes its place. 

Read more reflections like this here.

 

Image by Tibor Janosi Mozes from Pixabay

Son of My Father - Who Was My Dad? The Man I Never Really Knew

When I began writing Son of My Father, I realised how much of my dad’s story I never really knew. So much of who he was existed quietly in the background — unspoken, unseen. What I do remember, though, was his creative side.

From my memoir, Son of My Father

I know nothing about my dad’s childhood, his schooling, or whether he was academically bright or not. I don’t even know the name of the school that he went to. I’m not sure that I ever did. He probably left school with few if any qualifications. Questions like this were never the subject of conversation between us.

Son of My Father - The Funeral Service (an extract)

An extract from my memoir, Son of My Father.      

A very different time.

My Brother wrote the service for mam's funeral. He wrote the following.

“... when she was a young lady, it was the simple things like, helping her mam in the house, learning how to cook, wash and most importantly sew. Equally another happy time for her was her schooling, she was clever and bright and always managed to be in the top stream. It has been said that in other times she may have gone on to be a teacher.”

 It continues.

“From school she went into the factories (Freeman, Hardy and Willis) and later after becoming a mum turned to homeworking. The house always had Sewing Machines in it, Overlocks, Scissors, piles of leather, trim and fabric and things in the process of being put together. She was naturally creative and could turn any idea plucked from your imagination into a fully realised costume in hours.

She was soon promoted to sample machinist because basically she was the best in the trade.”

 

Her schooling was probably typical of that time for someone from her social background. Until her funeral, I was not aware of what she had achieved at school. She would have left school at around fifteen back then.

Five More Signs of an English Baby Boomer - Things Can Only Get Better

 

1)  A cost of living crisis would happen every few years. 

Money was tight, inflation was often high, and austerity was the norm for many. People were told, “You have never had it so good.” Depends on how you define ‘good’. If it’s a little better than bad, then I suppose it was good.

2)  You watched television showing a man landing on the moon. 

I do remember seeing someone walking on the moon. Years later, pop group The Police sang about walking on the moon. And conspiracy theorists told us that the moon landing was recorded in a studio on earth. 

Next they will be saying that the Clangers aren’t real.

Five Signs of an English Baby Boomer - Nostalgia is not what it used to be.

 

1) We would often have sugar sandwiches for tea, usually because we had run out of jam — or money to buy jam. White bread, margarine, and sugar. 

It kept the dentist in business.

2) You had an aunt who would cut your hair. 

My aunt Carol cut my hair. 

“What style? Who do you want to look like?” She would ask. ‘David Bowie or David Essex?’ was my reply. They seemed to do well attracting girls; perhaps it would work for me? It didn’t. Well, I don’t think it did.

My First Television. The Big Box in the Corner

The big box in the corner.

That’s what our first televsion was called.

It's the early 1960s, and I have a memory of a rather big box that stood in the corner of our rented home.

It had a very small screen.

In fact, the screen was so small that at times a pair of binoculars would have been useful. The room was small, but it seemed to be so far away.

But there was an answer to that - we just moved the sofa and chairs closer to the television.

It was mostly a box, but it had to be.

One day the television stopped working. When that happened, the main way of getting it to work again seemed to be to hit the top of the box. Dad tried that, but it did nothing to solve the issue. The picture remained blank.

He then called in the local repairman, who in due course arrived with his handyman bag of tools.

His first job was to take the back off the big box with a screwdriver. It only took a few minutes for him to decide that one of the valves needed to be replaced. While he was doing that, I had a quick look at what was in the back. Considering the actual screen was so small, I was surprised to see all the valves, transistors and a massive tube.

It surprised me that putting all that stuff together only produced such a small picture.

Looking into the back did show me one thing, though. I had been told by my granddad that all the people who appeared on television actually lived in the back of the television set. Of course, being very young and not knowing anything about how that was possible, I just accepted his expertise on the matter. It never occurred to me that while the box may have been big, it wasn’t that big. They must have been very small people.

The handyman, having changed the valve, then turned the television on. There then followed a wait of several minutes for the set to “warm up” and a picture to appear.

It was like magic.

Money, Money, Money - I'm in the Money. When Money Changes.

  

 

   Money was different when I was a boy.

It really was different. 

It actually changed when decimalisation was introduced in the UK on 15 February 1971. The old currency system of pounds, shillings, and pence was replaced by a decimal system where the pound was divided into 100 new pence.

New coins were introduced from that date, although some had been in circulation two to three years prior.

Here is a list of the old money, coins and notes that were in issue when I was a lad. 

Ha’penny: A coin that was worth 1/2 of a penny. 

There were times when I had a lot of these, often saved in a jam jar.

Penny: A coin that was worth 1 penny. It was also called a copper. 

There was a time when I would regularly take beer bottles back to the local off-licence shop and be given a penny for each. The bottle returns were a valuable source of income for a young lad back then. Mind you, I think it is possible that quite a few adults were wondering why I was encouraging them to drink more. 

Also, the name of Miss Moneypenny in the Bond films.

Thrupence: A coin that was worth 3 pence. 

Known as a joey, but I don’t remember ever calling it that. A twelve-sided coin with character. Having some of these was a step up from the humble penny.

Tanner: A coin that was worth 6 pence. 

The coin was small, silver, and shiny. From what I can remember, it was very easy to lose, especially if you had a hole in your pocket. I suppose that the modern-day equivalent would be the five-pence coin.

It was sometimes referred to as an “Elsie”, after a character named Elsie Tanner in the popular television soap, Coronation Street. Well, that’s what it was called in our house.

A Journey Back in Time to a Summer Job That Helped Fund My Holiday.

When I was a young boy, my mother set me a challenge. It was during the long school holiday one year, and she was hoping to keep me busy and out of her way.

The challenge was that if I did a certain amount of housework and errands over the following seven days, I would be rewarded with ten shillings.

Ten shillings was a lot of money back then, in the early 1970s. It was equal to fifty pence today, but it bought you a lot more. 

For a young boy, it was a big deal, and I would either be paid in coins or a “ten bob” banknote.

A Story About Fame and Legacy

When I was a young lad, if ever I got a little too ambitious, my mother would say to me.

“You need to come back down to earth.”

Sometimes, when I was being far too ambitious.

“You need to get off your high horse.”

Meaning — stop acting as if you think you are better than others.

An idiom.

I grew up in a time when idioms were popular.

But I had no idea what an idiom was. I was probably not paying attention to the teacher at school.

I think it was my mother’s way of letting me down gently.

Life was regularly a letdown.

I did wonder about the high horse, though.

I lived in an inner city in middle England, so the only time we ever saw a horse was on television. The racing from Newmarket, Chepstow, or some other place that I would only ever see on the magical television screen.

The television also bought us a popular series for children about a horse called Black Beauty. It was based on an original story by writer Anna Sewell. It was published in 1877, and she was paid a grand total of £40.

£40 is not much for writing a book, when you consider all the time and effort. In part because of ill health, it took her several years to write it.

But it was in 1877, and back then it might have been a lot of money.

I had to find out.

I Asked Chat GPT to Come Up With a New Book Cover (Part One)

As I have been thinking about changing the cover of my book, I asked ChatGPT to come up with something that was more upbeat and colourful than the one I had originally designed. I thought the original might be too dark and unappealing.

And this was its first attempt.

I thought it was colourful and bright, but wondered why the face features were missing. 

So, I asked it to come up with its own cover.

Son of My Father - A Story in Twenty Chapter Headings

The memories of a sixties' child.  Everyone has a story to tell. Here's mine in twenty chapter headings. 

Chapter One — Just a Small Funeral. 

Chapter Two — The Mysterious Cyprus Album. 

Chapter Three —  Mam and Dad.

Chapter Four — Life at Number Thirteen.

Chapter Five — Tina.

Chapter Six — Little School.

Chapter Seven — The Little Old Lady Next Door.

Chapter Eight — The Divorce.

Chapter Nine — Son of My Father.

Chapter Ten — Big School.

Chapter Eleven — Related to a Film Star?

Chapter Twelve — The Family From Hell.

Chapter Thirteen — The Girl With Beautiful Eyes.

Chapter Fourteen — A Face From The Past.

Chapter Fifteen — Holidays In The Sun.

Chapter Sixteen — The End of Big School.

Chapter Seventeen — Making Plans For…

Chapter Eighteen — Exit Door.

Chapter Nineteen — Whatever Happened To…

Chapter Twenty — Frank.

Available on Amazon as an e-book, or if you are a member, it is "free" to read on Kindle Unlimited.

Son of My Father 

When The Going Gets Tough, Don’t Give Up - A Life Lesson

When I was at school, there were two sporting events each year that I dreaded.

The first was the annual school swimming festival. We were expected to take part in the swimming trials to qualify.

I was not very good. I was a recreational swimmer, not a competitive one.

I did my best, but it was never going to be good enough.

I swam, but never made it to the big day.

Then there was the annual cross-country run.

A Journey Down Memory Lane. Wiping Away Errors, the Tipp-Ex Way

                                              

Until recently, I was not aware that Tipp-Ex, the correction fluid, was still available.

I have not used it in years.

There was a time when I was a regular user. It was a necessity.

For me, that was in the days of pen and paper, long before the arrival of the personal computer and laptop. And for some time after they became available, they were expensive to buy, as was a typewriter or word processor.

I tried using a typewriter, but I soon discovered that I was never going to master it.

I was left with a pen and paper.

But before Tippex, writing anything could be problematic, as mistakes stood out.

At school, most of the time, I did not know that I had made a mistake. My English teacher was the grammar checker. She would return my essays with many red marks and notes in the margin.

She would comment that I needed to improve in certain areas.

“Could do better.”

So many boys had the same three words written on their essays.

One day I noticed that a friend of mine had a little white plastic container. He was applying, via a small brush, that was part of the lid top, a white liquid to his essay.

Once dried, you could write over any mistake.

Maybe with this magic liquid I could do better?

Of course, you do have to know that you have made a mistake, and checking words using a dictionary was very time-consuming. More so if the alternative was being outside playing football with my mates.

The Day I Met An Investment Advisor

It was about twenty years ago that I was offered the chance to meet an investment advisor at my local bank. The meeting would be about the new opportunities they could offer, and the best long-term strategy to adopt.

                                                                      Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

I decided to go along, more out of interest than any likelihood that I was going to pursue any of the options offered, but I wanted to hear what they had to say.

I knew that the bank probably had something that they wanted to sell me. A fund, or maybe a market tracker?

So, I met with one of their advisors.

He was a young man who had the look of a banker. Swept back black hair and wearing what looked like an expensive suit.

Reminded me of the Wolf of Wall Street, except this was Middle England.

I was casually dressed. I don’t think that I looked like a high-wealth individual, but there again, I knew there were many business leaders who dressed smart and casual.

I was not a business leader, though.

We had a conversation, and I was asked what my investment goals were.

To make money, or at the very least, not to lose it? That was too obvious.

In the stock market, there is a chance that you could lose it. You can lose every penny. Companies do go bust. Or you just get unlucky, and the bull market that has been running for several years comes to an end just as you invest.

But it is also possible to do very well. Timing and time can work in your favour.

Ten Signs of an English Baby Boomer.

1) You ate sugar sandwiches, because jam was not available.

2) You had an aunt who would cut your hair.

3) The local library was the internet.

 4) You are old enough to remember when England won the World Cup.

 5) You had to put money into a coin meter for electricity.

6) A cost of living crisis was the norm.

7) You watched television pictures of a man landing on the moon.

8) The girl next door was probably your best friend.

9) There were only two, then three television channels, and even then, the adults complained that there was nothing worth watching.

10) The toilet was outside, in the backyard. 

Such was life.

Charity shop book haul…yet another five for a pound haul (part one).

So, I'm now playing catch up. Having been under the weather for a while, there are a number of posts to catch up on, including several book hauls.

Let's see what I got this time from the charity shop that keeps giving with their five for a pound offer.

All the ratings are from the Goodreads website (as of writing).

1) The Fry Chronicles, an Autobiography by Stephen Fry. 3.84 average review rating, 22132 ratings, 1232 reviews.

“Stephen Fry arrived at Cambridge on probation: a convicted fraudster and thief, an addict, liar, fantasist and failed suicide, convinced that at any moment he would be found out and flung away.

Instead, university life offered him love, romance, and the chance to stand on a stage and entertain.”

Link: The Fry Chronicles 

2) Animal, The Autobiography of a Female Body by Sara Pascoe. 4.15 average review rating, 8839 ratings, 639 reviews.

“Women have so much going on, what with boobs and jealousy and menstruating and broodiness and sex and infidelity and pubes and wombs and jobs and memories and emotions and the past and the future and themselves and each other.

Here's a book that deals with all of it.”

Link: Animal, The Autobiography of a Female Body

3) Only Fools and Stories by David Jason. 4.24 average review rating, 805 ratings, 67 reviews.

“…in a follow-up autobiography, he tells us about the many other lives he has lived – his characters. From Del Boy to Granville, Pop Larkin to Frost, he takes us behind the scenes and under the skins of some of the best loved acts of his career.”

Link: Only Fools and Stories

Wild by Cheryl Strayed: A Book Review

I finished reading Cheryl Strayed's book Wild a few weeks back and have been meaning to write about it, a review. As often happens, other things got in the way, so I thought it was about time that I did that review, because it is a good book. 

 

Wild is a memoir that describes her adventure as she hikes the Pacific Crest Trail. The book is subtitled From Lost to Found and starts off by giving us some of her background history. The author is very open about her own flaws, her failed marriage, drug use and relationship with her family, especially her parents. Her mother died young of cancer, a battle that did not last very long. Her mother's death had a big impact on her life. Strayed embarked on what becomes a journey of self discovery.

It has been a long time since I read a book that started with a prologue, and Wild has a very good one that achieves its objective, which is to get you to read on.  Strayed tells the story of when she loses one of her boots over a cliff edge. Now, barefoot walking is a thing, but out in the wilderness, in the middle of nowhere, with stones, sharp rocks, rugged terrain, you are left wondering, what is she going to do now? No spoilers, you will have to read the book!

Charity shop book haul...another five for a pound haul.

Last Friday, I got another five for a pound haul of books from the charity shop that keeps on giving.

Let's see what I got this time.

All the ratings are from the Goodreads website.

1) QI Second Book of General Ignorance by John Lloyd and John Mitchinson. 3.91 average review rating. This is one of those factual books that you can dive in and out of as and when it suits. Originally published in 2010 it has hundreds of individual bits of trivia like what did Cornish wreckers do, and what is a brass monkey? Like the BBC TV series, many of the answers are not so obvious.

 

2) First Man In by Ant Middleton. 4.02 average review rating and 705 GR reviews (as of writing). The memoir of a Special Boat Services sniper and a No.1 bestseller, which you might be forgiven for thinking that this is a man's book, yet quite a few of the reviews on Goodreads were from women. Maybe because it is about the secretive world of conflict and war, I assumed it would be a “man” thing. GQ describe it as “fist biting fun”, I suspect that at the time it wasn't always fun for the writer.

Charity Shop Book Haul: Another haul

I made another visit to a local charity shop that regularly runs five books for a pound sale.  This is what I bought this time.

1) Pause by Daniella Marchant. How to press pause before life does it for you.  Has a 3.79 rating on Goodreads.

2) The Secret by Rhonda Byrne.  Has a 3.73 rating on Goodreads. I don't really buy all this Law of Attraction stuff, but I thought that given how it cost twenty pence, I would finally read the book. It also has something to do with a pair of boots I found recently.

3) Happy by Derren Brown.  Has a 4.06 rating on Goodreads.  I see a trend here.  Three self-help type books in a row.  Interesting.

4) The Meaning of Sport by Simon Barnes.  Has a 3.78 rating on Goodreads. I like sport, so for 20 pence this was an easy pick.  We will see.

5) A field Full of Butterflies — Memories of a Romany Childhood, by Rosemary Penfold.  Has a 3.67 rating on Goodreads. The lowest Goodreads rating here. Having written a memoir myself, (well, the only book I've written) it is a genre that I like, a real life story. 

So, plenty more to read and all five for a pound.  

Gone Fishing: "What's Your Tomato?" A Book Review

The first thing to say about this book is that you do not need to like fishing or be interested in the sport of fishing to read it.  As you would expect from the title it is about fishing, but it is actually more about the two men doing the fishing, the British comedians and comedy actors, Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse. It is as much about them as it is fishing.  They share something in common in that they both faced a serious heart health issue. Whitehouse had three stents put in, while Mortimer had a triple bypass.  The book, and the BBC TV show that has now been running for five series, is about their friendship and Life, both before and after having been close to death.  

They are both in their sixties now, an age I know something about. They are perhaps aware that they may be on, as the saying goes, borrowed time, and so they are making the most of it.  Fishing has become a big part of that for them, and I suppose they are fortunate in that they have been able to make the TV series as a job of work.  In five series, they have travelled around the UK and occasionally overseas to fish and ponder life.

Both still have a child like approach to life, especially Mortimer.  Working in comedy has probably given them the chance to never grow up or be overtaken by the seriousness of life.  Whitehouse is very serious about fishing and its history, and this comes out in the book. While it is an easy read, it does go through the history, traditions and technical side of fishing.  Those chapters are written by Whitehouse, who has been a lifelong fisherman.  His knowledge comes to the fore, while Mortimer is like the apprentice, taking it all in.  

Except that Mortimer doesn't always take in what he is being told. You can see this quite often in the TV series as Whitehouse shows frustration with his apprentice.  “Don't wind” as in winding the caught fish in, can frequently be heard from Whitehouse.  There is an art and technique to landing a fish, and overuse of winding the rod to pull the fish in is not part of it.  Mortimer is always caught winding, his innocent reply is always “I'm not winding” with a cheeky grin on his face. The fish regularly escapes as Whitehouse holds back his disappointment. I'm tempted to say anger, but they remain mates.  Bob is like a child at heart.

So, if it's your thing read the book, but if you don't, you can watch some episodes of the TV series as they are on YouTube.  If you like TV with scenery, a nice view, travel to different places, it's wonderful, calming, and funny.  Funny as in silly.  As Mortimer asks, what's the tomato in your life?  I suppose we all have a tomato in our life, or perhaps we are still looking for it.