Mill Hill Music Complex would not exist if my Dad hadn’t said to me, back in 1979, you can use the derelict caretakers cottage at Bunns Lane Works to rehearse with your band if you give me a fiver a week. I was lucky to have a Father who was a successful businessman and always encouraged me, despite hating the punk rock music I played.
He also taught me the value of humility and giving everyone a chance. He told me that when he was in the RAF flying bombers in WWII he realised that what you needed was the best people around you, regardless of their colour, creed or background. You wanted people who would have your back. I don't think I fully appreciated what he meant until long after he had passed away in 1987.
He also taught me to value our time on earth. He would say of money "you can't take it with you when you are gone". His view was that you paid your bills and what was left, you had fun with. This used to drive my mother mad, who had more frugal instincts. He would buy her expensive presents and get told off, my mother would say "I could have got that at half the price in Burnt Oak". He would just smile and told me the one way to lose a woman was to get her stuff for half the price in Burnt Oak.
My Dad also taught me the value of charm. He'd say always be nice, even when you want to rip someones head off. I don't always meet this aspiration, but I do try. His view was that you had to keep things in balance. Although a devout Roman Catholic, perhaps the person with the strongest faith I've ever met, he wasn't a Holy Joe. He hated hypocrisy, I think that the scandals that have befallen the church in recent years would break his heart. He also had a strong belief in Karma and that if you let things be, people would get their just deserts in the end. I often still feel his voice guiding me in times of crisis. Often that has been what has got me through.
Here's a little video I made a few years ago taken from our picture collection
#happyfathersday Dad, wherever you are now!