WHO IS JEREMY STRONG?
Well, actually he’s a bit of an idiot, thank goodness. And I should know, because I am Jeremy Strong, writing this. Maybe I should start at the beginning, because I wasn’t born daft. I just kind of grew into it. I blame my parents. After all, who else is there to blame?
So, the beginning – 1949 – that’s when I was born. Yes, I know that makes it last century and it means I am incredibly old and ancient. Believe it or not I still have my own teeth, not falsies. And some of my original hair too. I’ve also got all my own legs and arms and things so, hey, Life’s not too bad, is it?
When I was three I fell out of a first floor bedroom window and landed on my head. Yes, of course it hurt! I had a ginormous headache, a broken right arm and I spent a week in hospital. I think I was a bit accident-prone as a child. I broke various bones and had stitches here, there and just about everywhere. This was because I spent most of my time out in the fields near our house playing. The ‘stitches score’ went something like this:
Riding a bike at a thousand miles an hour – five stitches.
Falling out of tall trees – four stitches.
Playing kiss-chase – three stitches.
At school I enjoyed playtime, lunchtime, and half past three. I hated Country Dancing, which meant prancing up and down holding hands with girls. Aaaargh! (I don’t suppose the girls liked it either.)
I also loved making things up and writing stories. I spent most of my teenage years writing poems for my girlfriend, until she gave in and married me. After a successful marriage of thirty years, (and two children, Daniel and Jessica, now grown-up), we decided we needed to go in different directions and we separated. (We’re still good friends.) Two years later I met Gillie and we got married in June, 2008. Between us we have four children, four cats and some frogspawn in our pond.