Just as I neared the end of my ordeal, I realised where the ringing was coming from – the side-end of my bike’s handlebars was pressing against the doorbell of the house I was delivering to. Again, I could hear ringing and it seemed to coincide with each time I pushed something through the letter-box. I tried again, breaking the newspaper further and further down until it felt like I was posting a page at a time. I struggled with the first couple of sections, and heard a ringing noise, far off in distance. Still sat on my bike, I forced their immense Sunday newspaper – probably one of the broadsheets, with about three dozen sections and magazines – into their tiny letter-box. I drove my bike up the garden path and pulled up, side-on to the front door.
One time I delivered to a house on Holme Crescent – a cul de sac on a newer housing estate. After the shock of my heart stopping, it was nice to see his big, dopey smile and hug him back. It made it all the more ominous that you couldn’t see his eyes because of his big, floppy fringe. If ever a dog looked like a medium-sized man wearing a fancy dress costume, it was that one. Or the times when I’d be walking along Alpine Drive, immersed in my headphones only to be bearhugged by a massive Old English Sheepdog that lived on that street.
This album soundtracked a lot of moments – like the time I walked back past a house I had just delivered to, only to see the lady of the house – a hot blonde in her late 20s / early 30s – open the front door in her birthday suit to collect the newspaper off the floor of the porch. I used to look forward to Sunday mornings – yes it was hard work, and the back-breaking weight of Sunday newspapers has left an indelible mark on me, in the form of my bad posture – but it gave me the opportunity to listen to Aerosmith on my walkman for a good four or five hours. I know it’s clichéd to think of your formative years fondly (nostalgia ain’t what it used to be), but I really do look back on those times with a smile on my face. If any album reminds me of delivering newspapers on cold, foggy Sunday mornings, it’s this one.
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