I remember being told by Butch Key that we were 'standing on the touchline of life'. Like it was a bad thing.
I remember Mrs Newsome, my primary school head teacher, denouncing scrumping for apples - which someone had been stupid enough to do in school uniform.
I remember my cornet teacher. His name was Mr Meek. I think his first name was Eric. He had a very good embouchure. But he also had a moustache, which I used to think would get in the way of his trumpet playing.
I remember a history lesson in which Colin Prince talked about an auto-da-fe. I still don't know what it means.