The soundtrack in my head: 6 The Rocker - Thin Lizzy

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Nobody seems to be returning my calls so I’m guessing the TV adaption has died on its arse which is a pain but one of the conversations I had with the TV people at one stage was about music and I’ve been thinking about the ideal soundtrack ever since.

So then there's Gyppo...

Every club is made up of two kinds of guys; those who are open to talking with outsiders, and those who aren’t. Gyppo had got his nickname from his Zorro like appearance which of course he played up to. A slim swarthy guy, about 25, with straight dark medium length hair, thick gold hoop band earrings, a drooping moustache and usually a bandana, he dealt a little dope and was always happy to say hi and let us score.

You’ve got to remember this was back in the 80s, not like now when skunk’s all around. For us kids out in the sticks getting hold of a bit of blow, usually some Lebanese black, was a bit of a big deal.

Gyppo was OK. He was approachable, he had a sense of humour and you could make a joke with him, like when he asked us to sponsor a parachute jump and we offered him 2p a mile, without worrying that he was going to drag you outside and fill your face in. He wasn’t like some of the really heavy hostile guys, the ones that gave off an aura of being unexploded bombs just looking for an excuse to go off at any second. While you had to respect him, you instinctively felt that Gyppo drew a distinction between some friendly banter and a deliberate insult that called to be dealt with.

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