R.I.P. Terry Hall

They say you should never meet your heroes…

It usually means that they can never meet your expectations.

But not in my case… it was because I ended up injuring myself!

Let me explain…

Terry Hall, one of my childhood heroes, sadly died a few days ago after a short illness at just 63 years old.

If you don’t know, he was the lead singer of The Specials and Fun Boy Three. He also co-wrote, in my opinion, one of the BEST POP SONGS EVER - Our Lips Are Sealed.

He was a HUGE influence on me as a teenager when I was growing up in the Midlands in the early 1980s.

And, in a roundabout way, he was responsible for me making my first money as an entrepreneur.

I’ve never told anyone about this before…

At the height of The Specialss fame in 1980 I was 12 years old and in my first year at the local comprehensive.

I had an Army & Navy store bag that I carried my schoolbooks in.

In typical teenage fashion, I decorated it with hand-drawn logos of The Specials, Madness, The Beat and other Ska bands I was obsessed with at the time.

My doodlings were a big hit amongst my classmates - so much that people asked if I’d do similar designs on their school bags.

If I recall, I charged 50p per bag. No, it wasn’t a lot of money in those days, but for a 12-year-old, it was more than enough to get a sugar rush from the local sweet shop!

So thank you, Terry for giving me my first break! ;-)

Fast forward 38 years and I finally got a chance to meet my hero… and tell him about my first ‘business’ and, of course, how much his music meant to me as an awkward teenager.

Terry’s son attended the same school as my daughter in central London.

I’d seen him waiting outside the school a few times and was awed when I realised who it was.

“OMG… it’s TERRY HALL!!!” I texted Heloise.

Of course, I wasn’t going to go up to him and gush about how much his music inspired me.

I mean, the guy probably gets that kind of thing all the time and I didn’t want to impose myself on him like some gushing middle-aged fanboy.

Then one day after school, fate intervened…

I was waiting for the bus home with my daughter when Terry and his family arrive at THE. EXACT. SAME. BUS. STOP!!!

Even better, we’re all queuing for the SAME BUS!

(Now, an important detail of this story concerns the shopping bag I was carrying. Inside was anchovies in a glass container, garlic and a leg of lamb.)

So, as I’m waiting for the bus, I catch Terry Hall’s eye.

He smiles.

I smile.

And then he comes up to me and says…

“Hi, I’m Terry…”

(Inside my head, a voice is ranting, “Of course you are! You’re TERRY FLIPPIN’ HALL - I know who you are! What are you introducing yourself to me for? Can’t you tell from my manic stare and nervous body language that I know EXACTLY who you are?"

Trying to act cool, I simply said.

“I’m Nick, nice to meet you”

Terry extends his hand to shake mine.

At this point, things start to go wrong…

I’m carrying my daughter’s backpack in one hand and the shopping bag in the other.

Slightly flustered, I try and switch the shopping bag from my right hand into my left, but drop the bag.

As it hits the ground, I hear a distinct sound of glass breaking.

Raising my eyebrows, I tut and shrug my shoulders, making light of my clumsiness, while I shake Terry’s hand.

At that moment, the bus arrives, and I quickly scoop up the shopping bag and head onto the bus.

I make sure my daughter is sat down, and then I put my hand into the shopping bag to check the damage.

My hand touches something slimy… and then sharp.

The smell of anchovies reaches my nostrils.

I pull my hand out and try to wipe away the fishy oil on my jeans without Terry noticing my predicament.

At this point, Terry strikes up a conversation with me…

“You know, I’m sure I’ve seen you before somewhere… was it in Shoreditch House?”

Indeed, he had seen me a few weeks before at the members club in East London, but again at the time, I was too in awe to approach him.

‘Well, yes, it was! How long have you been a member?”

I can’t believe my luck.

This is the start of a conversation that could lead… well anywhere!

I could end up steering the conversation towards my love of ska and dub reggae… that’s sure to interest Terry... and who knows where things might lead from there… invitation to backstage at the next Specials’ concert… chats down the pub about our favourite dub albums…

But then Terry says…

“Oh dear, have you hurt your hand?”

I look down and my thumb is covered in oily blood that is dripping onto the floor of the bus.

“Oh, it’s nothing I must have just cut it somewhere.”

I am desperate not to let my stupid clumsiness ruin this special moment between Terry and me, but the blood is really now starting to come out and I can’t just keep talking to my hero with a serious hand wound and fishy odour rising from between my feet where the bag sits!

Terry turns to his wife, asks her something and produces a couple of paper handkerchiefs.

“Here you go… that should help.”

I thank him and then try to staunch the wound by wrapping the tissues around my thumb… which quickly turn crimson!

While I am delivering this emergency first aid, the bus slows, Terry stands and says...

“This is our stop - nice meeting you Nick!”

And then… he’s gone.

All I’m left with is a bloody thumb and a salty scent.

I never did get another proper chance to talk to Terry.

Believe me, I tried several times, but I always said something stupid or over eager.

I once invited him to a go-karting session at 9am on a Sunday morning with my son and a bunch of his friends when I met him again at a tube station, which he understandably (and politely) declined!

So when I heard about his very sad and untimely passing, I thought about what could have been.

From the accounts of people I know, Terry Hall really was a truly kind, generous and interesting man.

I am sure if I’d plucked up the courage to tell him about my bus shame, he would have laughed and maybe… just maybe… I could have had a proper conversation with him.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Well, I am surprised and genuinely sad about his passing. I’ve had The Specials on repeat all day to remind me of those days in the 1980s when I was first trying to define who I was.

But most of all, I wanted to share this story as a cautionary tale about not seizing the moment.

Life is too short for regrets or delays.

If you want something, don’t allow your emotions to stop you from taking action.

As Terry sang in The Specials' classic ‘Enjoy Yourself’...

“Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think

Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink

The years go by, as quickly as you wink

Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think”