The Author

meHa!  I like that term.

Like I’ve got time to write a book after all the reading, learning, listening and working I get up to.

Anyway this is me.  Leonard Inkster,  Len to my friends and to my not-so-friends something probably unprintable.

Those people that know me, don’t need to read this, unless of course they are bored and can’t get to sleep.  Those of you who don’t might want to see what twisted background I’ve had that has made me into the person I am today.

I started off at a very early age pulling things apart.  Unlike most 10 year olds however, I used to be able to put them back together again, and like my Dad with his vehicle mechanics I always had bits left over, but the things still used to work.

Anyway some years passed at School and in the Air Cadet Corp and I got myself into Electronics engineering, an apprenticeship with a company that allegedly helped the CIA overthrow the Government in Chile, but that’s a different story.

Nothing too dramatic happened during my tenure there apart from the odd prank like welding a colleagues steel heel tips to the floor, and super gluing another colleagues coffee mug to the bench.   Oh yeah, and then there was the time I coated a ball of twine with Ammonium Sulphide and gave it to a nooby to learn the forgotten art of Cable lacing.  Poor lad couldn’t stop washing his hands for a week.

And then there was that time when one person fell into the Trichloroethylene vat, not one of the best ways to lose excess fat. Apparently he was using it like his own personal vapour sniffing experiment, blacked-out with the fumes and toppled in.  By the time anyone noticed there wasn’t much left of him to pull out.

Oh and the time an over enthusiastic soccer fanatic who though he could offload High-pressure oxygen bottles from the delivery truck and onto the floor in a single kick turned up.  Apart from the occasional clang, clang, clang  as the cylinders pirouetted through the air to land neatly on their side on the tarmac we didn’t think much of it.   He was doing OK until one cylinder didn’t quite somersault the way he had intended, hit the ground on the valve, broke the neck off.   The sudden high pitched scream from the oxygen escaping the broken valve had all 10 apprentices rush to the window to see what the new game was.

We saw the black cylinder gradually set off, increasing speed as it scrapped and rattled across the tarmac until it finally got up sufficient velocity to rise about half-way up the fire-station wall, neatly poking a 10 inch hole in the side, where upon a huge clang could be heard as it bounced off the fire tender, followed by a crash as it exited like an ICBM through the corrugated asbestos roof only to land about 300 yards away in the middle of the Rugby pitch adjacent to the premises. This led to  the on-site Fire station being demolished, with no-one worrying about the shards of Asbestos everywhere.   In the words of Jim Carrey B E A yootiful!  I laughed so much I nearly peed myself.

Those were the good old days when worker safety wasn’t of such paramount importance, or if it was, nobody seemed to give a care.

After that my careers were pretty mundane, or were they………

You know what, maybe I will write a book after all.

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