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Drive My Car

It’s hard to say what would have happened had England qualified for the world cup in 1994 but chances are that I’d have spent more time watching football than courting and could be sat here now with no kids and no mortgage living the life of Riley, not that it would suit a man of my increasing age. That summer changed my life for the better in most ways, I got a beautiful girlfriend, some new friends (who I ultimately managed to drag down to Springfield Park, and further) I also got a new outlook that kick started my life from the dole-drums.

I started enjoying watching Latics again, got my backside in gear and went back to college and here I am now with a (sort of) career two wonderful kids and the same beautiful girlfriend.

1994, Graham Taylor and all that, are also to blame for my increased waist size. Up until then, I’d been used to walking almost everywhere but now I had a girlfriend who lived on the other side of Wigan and as much as I didn’t mind the walk between Shevington and Orrell, she had access to a car which, as well as saving time, allowed for a little more privacy than we got in her mum and dad’s front room.

The car also gave me a new angle on putting together mix-tapes. No longer was it just about self-indulgence or trying to impress someone. I had to compromise. They weren’t just for me to listen to, or to send someone away with. Mrs Perm has always had different music tastes to mine and it was enough of a challenge to get my music on the stereo without me getting her to enjoy it as well.

Anyway, I managed it in the end, which where we end up today after I found one of said mix tapes when I was having a bit of a tidy-up the other day. Carbon dating (well a quick check of the track list) suggests this is a few years older than 1994, but it seems pretty reflective of the brit-pop, dad rock and soul that became the presentable face of my music tastes back then and with no literary licence whatsoever I’ve reproduced it for you here.



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