So on the back of my last post (which has been my most successful) which was all about hearing your stories, it made me pull out a book I have on my Kindle. I did have it as an actual book but I think it now resides in the library on HMS Iron Duke.
Before that some back story. Before I joined the military I worked on a dock yard in a small town in the south East of the UK. Everyone knew everyone’s business. I hated it. I needed to leave.
Now I’m older I realise that my hometown is great to raise a kid as there’s not much serious crime that happens, it’s quiet and there’s enough for young families to do bits together but when that kid reaches about 14 then there’s not much for a 14 year old and older to do.
Get to 14 and you’re itching to spread those wings a little. I know I did and I did eventually do it.
I find it very sad that there are some people in my hometown who have never been outside that bubble when there’s a whole world to explore. Don’t get me wrong, they’re very happy but I’ve always found it………….small maybe.
Anyways. 23 year old me worked at a dockyard, dreaming of travelling the world. I was the youngest that worked there and there was just one rule.
BBC Radio 2 or silence. (Brits will find this funnier than anyone else.)
BBC Radio 2 is a radio station, predominately for old people. It is the most listen to radio station in the UK and plays the widest selection of music on the UK radio airwaves. I grew to love it as the years went by.
You had Ken Bruce from 09:30 until midday and he had his Popmasters quiz which was bloody hard. He presented from 1986 and 2023.
You had Steve Wright who presented his show from 14:00 until 17:00. His show was always full of energy and his songs showed that. He sadly passed away in February 2024.
Finally we come to Simon Mayo. He hosted the 17:00 until 19:00 Drivetime show. The part of his show that everyone looked forward to was the Confessions segment which he had going since the 1990’s. Hence the title of this article. Some background first!!
From Wikipediea. - Mayo, who had hosted the show since 1988, started the feature in August 1990, partly due to the rising interest in his own Christian faith, and it caught on very quickly. Listeners would write in to "Father Mayo" and "confess" to their "sins", and each morning at 8:35 am Mayo would broadcast one to the nation over Tomaso Giovanni Albinoni's Adagio for Organ and Strings in G minor.
The "confessions" were often humorous and sometimes lacking in taste or scruples. At the peak of the feature, Mayo received more than one hundred confessions a week. Some were sincere confessions and Mayo discounted any which admitted to crime, adultery, overt cruelty or other more serious activities.
After completing each confession, Mayo would ask his crew - consisting of weather and travel presenter Dianne Oxberry, newsreader Rod McKenzie, or their respective stand-ins if they were away, and the day's "special guest producer" played by the show's own producer Ric Blaxill - whether they would "forgive" the confessor or not.
This then carried on when he moved to Radio 2. I would cry with laughter as he read out people’s Confessions. I brought the book when it came out which I will link below if anyone is interested. I will earn no money from linking it obviously but it’s worth a read!
So after reading the book again I thought I would post a couple of my favourite ones and you, my readers, can decide if the Confessor is forgiven or not. I think I’ll also include one of my own stories and the SubStack collective can decide if I am forgiven or not.
So here we go. Number 1.
“Always check your mirrors”
“Dear Simon,
This story goes back to the late 1970s, when I was twenty years old, and although I have told a few people, it is still one of those moments that makes me put my head under the covers at night and go, OH NO!
I had been going out with a girl, let’s call her Alison, for a couple of months when she passed her driving test, so she suggested that instead of going to the usual places on a Friday night, she would borrow her dad’s car, pick me up and we’d go to a country pub for a meal and a drink.
The following Friday there was a knock on the door and there she was, looking great, and ready to take me out on the town. The night itself was a typical November one, cold, dark and absolutely pouring down, and as Alison wanted to talk to my sister about something she suggested I wait for her in the car. So I ran to the car and jumped in.
From my vantage point I could see Alison and my sister chatting away and I settled down to wait. However, I quickly realized that I desperately needed to break wind, which I did very loudly and with a terrible secondary effect. The car filled with the foul smell immediately and I knew that when she returned to the car she would know what had happened, and this might put a damper on the evening before it had even begun.
So I wound down the passenger window and started to fan, then scoop, air from inside the car into the cold November evening. I could now see Alison finishing up her conversation with my sister and starting to run towards the car. Now in panic mode I was actually blowing air out of the car, but somehow I managed to get the window closed a micro-second before she opened the driver’s door. Hooray, I thought, the moment is saved, just in the nick of time!
Until, that is, Alison opened her mouth, and uttered a sentence that will live with me for the rest of my life.
In a very clear, conversational tone, she said, ‘Have you said hello to Mum and Dad?’ I felt my blood turn to ice. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I felt physically sick as I turned my head to see her mother and father, whom, incidentally, I had never met before, sitting silently on the back seat.
We drove in silence to a local church meeting where she dropped her parents off for the evening, then we went on to the pub. Alison commented a couple of times during the evening that I seemed quite distant, but I told her I didn’t feel very well and we were home by 10 p.m.
Alison and I went on to marry and then divorce, and in the entire time we were together that story was never mentioned by anyone involved. Both of her parents have now passed on and I have not seen her for fifteen years, but even writing this has brought back the horror again. However, I feel a certain relief at having finally confessed.
Any chance of forgiveness?
Mike
So there you go. That’s Confession number 1. Should Mike be forgiven? Comment and tell me what you think.
Now for Confession number 2.
“When The Red Robin Went Bobbing Along”
Dear Father Simon and the Gathered Forgivage,
A great weight has lain upon my chest since the summer of 1989 when I was the manager of a DIY store in the north of England. Please hear my sin.
Every morning my assistant manager, Ryan, and I would arrive at the store slightly early to wake up the computers and ready ourselves for the day ahead. Once preparations were done, we would sit down for a quick coffee before the chaos of the day set in. The office where this brief respite took place was on an upper floor of the building and had a window that overlooked the staff car park; this was particularly useful as we could witness the arrival of the rest of the store staff as we relaxed.
Almost without exception, Karen, one of the section managers, was the first to arrive. Day after day, week after week, we watched as she coaxed her small red Reliant Robin into a space to our right–but, oddly, she only ever came to a complete stop once she had bumped the front wheel up against the small kerb that bordered the car park. We watched this process unquestioningly for many weeks.
Each day the same manoeuvre took place: a sharp turn into the space, a burst of acceleration and the little car would surge forwards, stopping only when it came into contact with the solid stone kerb.
One dark morning, while nursing his steaming cup of coffee and watching the familiar routine of Karen’s arrival, Ryan said, ‘I wonder what would happen if someone moved that kerb?’ We both stopped what we were doing, our eyes met and nothing more needed to be said. A smile crossed our lips; a plan was hatched!
Within fifteen minutes of close of business that night, we had hauled out the solid stone kerb in front of Karen’s space and replaced it with a strip of grey polystyrene, which we had selected from the warehouse. We then headed home eagerly.
Next morning, Ryan and I arrived as normal. We fired up the computers, got ourselves a coffee and positioned ourselves expectantly at the office window. Sure enough, bang on time, Karen appeared on the horizon. The little red Reliant Robin glinted in the morning sun as it glided gracefully across the car park towards her usual spot. She made her well-rehearsed turn and added the final burst of acceleration. The little car obediently jumped forward towards the expected, but absent, kerb………..
Father Simon, I fear I require forgiveness from several parties here.
First, obviously, from Karen herself, who was waiting for the kerbside bump that didn’t come and proceeded to direct her Reliant Robin, which frankly had more power than we’d given it credit for, off the edge of the car park, through a fence at the edge of the grounds, down the grassy verge and directly into the river that ran alongside the store.
Secondly, I feel I should spare a thought for the AA man who had to call another AA man because the van he’d brought wasn’t big enough to pull the Reliant back up the hill out of the river.
But thirdly, and most importantly, I must seek absolution from the horrified fisherman, who was just sitting on his basket that quiet summer morning, minding his own business. He ran like I have never seen a man run before, as he mercifully spotted the Reliant heading down the verge towards him at some speed, eventually ploughing straight through his equipment and basket on its way to its watery halt … Can you possibly find it in your hearts to absolve me and Ryan of our sin?
Graham
PS We never did find the fisherman’s basket.”
So there you go!! Should Graham be forgiven for this hilarious prank? You decide!!
Finally we’ll end with one of mine. This occurred when I was but a young lad of fourteen years old in the year 1999. Yes the 90’s was the best decade.
Anyways one Friday evening, my dad decided that he alone would take me and my two younger brothers to our nearby Tesco to get the weekly shop (back when it was affordable)
I was fourteen, Phil was eleven and Mikey was 7.
Now you have to understand that me and my brothers were pretty much like the brothers from Malcolm in the Middle so my dad was taking on a huge risk.
We drive to the shop with no incidents. We collect our trolley. Mikey is placed in the seat, much to his displeasure, Phil hangs off the front and I’m left to push. Now this was all fine at first but as my dad filled the trolley it slowly got heavier and heavier.
I asked Phil if he would get off the front. He refused. I asked again. He refused. I asked my father to get him off but he was consumed by the list and so he ignored me. I then took matters into my own hands.
I allowed the trolley to get away from me and then yanked it back to me as hard as I could. I heard a thump and then Phil started crying. I looked around and he’s on the floor with my dad hurrying over. Phil’s chin is bleeding profusely and my dads holding him. We hurry to the checkout and they give him a towel to put over my brothers chin. As of yet he doesn’t suspect me.
We end up at the local A & E, minus the shopping as we had to leave it at the Tesco, so that Phil can have his chin glued back together. When we do get home my mother is sympathetic to Phil and I still haven’t got blamed so to me the jobs a good’un.
The next day my Mum, Dad and brothers went shopping without me which was fine by me.
So SubStack collective. I seek forgiveness for my sins as written. To be fair everyone knows about it and both parents admit that at the time they did suspect that I had maybe done something but had no proof as to how I had managed it.
So there you have it. I hope some of these make you laugh. Maybe I’ll start he SubStack Confessions series. You can all DM me a confession and I’ll post one a week and see if the SubStack Collective forgives you.
I hope I find you all happy and healthy.
Vulkan
P.S. Below we have the link to the book. If you use your preferred search engine and look for Simon Mayo confessions podcast it should bring up more.
https://amzn.eu/d/3SxU31b
You all are going to hell!
I kid, I kid. :-)
Thank you!
Truly enjoyed reading your piece and all the confessions!
I hope it is ok to confess something here.
20 some years ago, we lived in Dubai at the time, our niece April, at that time maybe 19-20 had come to stay with us for a bit and see what life was like outside the bubble. :)
I decided to give her a once in lifetime experience ( not completely without alterior selfish motives ) and took her to the Al Mahara restaurant at the Burj Al Arab, a super fance place in those days.
I talked her into ordering oysters, all of course in the spirit of widening ones horizon and such, she had never tried them. In this restaurant, the waiters stay close by the whole time and refill your glass after almost every sip.. so there was no real privacy. The food arrives and the shock is visible on April's face ( she had seen fried oysters before never raw ones ).
Poor kid of course felt obliged to put one in her mouth, there it got stuck, unable to swollow the unappetizing looking animal, trying to be on her very best behavior, she looked at me, eyes bulging, pleading. She didn't know what to do under the watchful eyes of the waiters.
Finally I told her to spit it in her napkin inconspicuously and pretend it never happend.. we went to Mc Donalds after... part of my apology.
I enjoyed this way too much!
We laugh about it but I still feel bad.
She does not eat oysters these days.