A Merciful Escape.

Back in 1967 with a degree and job as a physicist I decided on a change of direction: not a damascene realisation of my true calling, I just thought my social life needed a lift. Back then uni was free and you got a grant that covered everything apart from beer and Italian restaurants. Hardly believable isn’t it. I applied to do probation officering and got an interview. My neighbouring candidate informed me he was doing ‘bib studs’ which confused me at first then made me wonder if maths and physics might not be the entrance qualifications they were looking for. My interviewer was only a small step from a hardened criminal himself. His technique was as a knife thrower, his intention to see where circumstance might draw blood. Suddenly science seemed a green and pleasant land. I can only imagine bib studs boy went home crying with deep, psyche threatening lacerations but I didn’t fare much better. My damage though was more self inflicted. On the topic of retribution I ventured the opinion that the stocks and hanging cages were a good idea, only, I have to say, because I’d recently seen a film with them in. Being twenty years BT, before Thatcher, and still fondly cherishing the welfare state this must have come over as a teensy bit harsh, even for this virtuous arm of the Cray family. I may have supported it with a cost/benefit analysis and aspects of human cognition only now being appreciated by advances in neuroscience. But the harsh truth is I am a sissy and he knew it. Then miraculously he turned into a nice bloke. Dam it was all an act! But what was I supposed to do, have a stand up row? Anyway as luck would have it I failed and did industrial design instead thus saving myself from pittance pay, over work, stress and ultimate redundancy. Only a few years ago I volunteered to do work with delinquent kids and was again rejected. At least that time my flies were undone which doesn’t bode well when working with children.