It Was Two Years Ago Today

Published by Rick on Tagged Uncategorized

Yes, two years ago today I finally said goodbye to Dagenham, Essex, after spending most of the previous 10 years there. And what did I learn in those ten years? Not much, other than the further proof that suburban life really never appealed to me. Especially if you’re in show business, or intend to stay in it. The two significantly famous show biz people to come out of Dagenham were comedian Dudley Moore and 60’s pop singer Sandie Shaw, both very talented individuals to be sure, but once they had any success, you can bet Dagenham was in their rear view mirror. I knew a few comics that lived in Essex, but none from Dagenham, even with its population of well over 100,000.

But ultimately, I’m not writing to slag off the town. I wound up there after meeting someone who lived there and whom I believed was a life partner. It’s not like I was sitting in my apartment in LA spinning the globe around, wondering, “Oh where shall I go,” then closing my eyes and letting my finger drop, and Dagenham showed up. Actually, it would have to be a globe about the proportionate size of the green apple in René Magritte’s 1952 painting “The Listening Room,” (NOW who says I’m not cultured?) to be large enough to have Dagenham appear on a world map. Suffice to say the town was far off my radar, though I could at least say I’d heard of it before I moved there. My full intent was to live in London, and after my first couple of times performing in North London, I was sure that was exactly where I wanted to be.

I had to wait ten freaking years for that reality to emerge, though I had a break of close to a year when I moved to Walthamstow in North London after the marriage failed. But I lost that place of residence and wound up back in Dagenham because it was the only area I knew anybody, plus I lucked into a two-story house of a friend who couldn’t afford her mortgage. I’d spend three more years in that RM10 post code, and I might still be there were it not for a series of events.

Yes, Eileen was the significant factor here, for it was through her I got into the co-op that I’m currently living in. I hardly knew such things even existed, and just assumed that in order to live in London, I’d have to pay @£600 a month for a studio apartment (which I did before I moved to Dagenham), maybe twice that if I wanted space for all my records. After finding out what she was paying for a decent-sized one-bedroom, I decided I wanted to join the co-op as well.

Things didn’t look encouraging, as I applied, and was put on a waiting list with little or no reason to believe that spaces were going to just magically open up, or that I’d be anywhere near the top of that list. With the prospect of paying incredibly low rent for a fair-sized living space in a lovely and relatively safe part of London, of course there would be a lot of people applying. I was advised to apply every year around the same time.

In a way, Eileen’s cancer helped. When she got ill, I was spending almost every night and most of my days there, and got to know various members of the co-op, who were impressed by the devotion I was showing to their dear friend. I was merely being there for her because isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Well maybe, except not everyone in the world has a heart. I still remember one chilling tale a patient at the hospice told about her ex-husband, and how he married her when she’d already been diagnosed, but then decided to announce a couple years after that he’d met someone else and was leaving. As she crumpled to the floor in shock, he merely walked over her and out the door. That’s an asshole I just can’t imagine being, thank god.

Through my constant caring for Eileen, I got to know the people closest to her, who felt that the compassion I showed reflected that of the type of person they wanted as a member. When I applied again for membership in autumn of 2012, the signs were much more encouraging. In early 2013, I was made aware that a vacancy would be coming up in about four months. I had a lot on my mind at the time, but with this offer in hand, a lot of my thought process went to hoping she’d at least hang around long enough for us to have a chance to be neighbors. She missed it by three months.

By the time I was ready to move in two years ago, I realized I already had more friends in this little two-block area than I’d accumulated in my decade in Dagenham. Which is not to piss on the town, for the few friends I have there I still make an effort to see every now and then, and I often go there to shop as it’s much cheaper. But had my move not happened, which really all goes back to my relationship with Eileen, I can pretty much guarantee I wouldn’t have my weekly quiz-master gig, I wouldn’t be singing with a choir, I wouldn’t be working at the hospice, and even though I’ve worked The King’s Head numerous times through my near 15 years of hanging around here, I seriously doubt the Sunday DJ gig I’m about to begin would have materialized.

Two years gone, hopefully many more to come.

June 11th, 2015



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