Tich Ennis was my nickname at Junior School. I was christened Tobias David Ennis, called David at home. My father’s best friend was Toby, so the name. I have a to bias. Little Tich was a music hall performer, four feet six inches tall. I was eight years old when given the nickname, walking to school with older, bigger boys. I was one of the youngest in my class.
Why am I smaller than the other boys, I asked my father? There’s good goods in small parcels, he said. My father was six feet tall, my mother five feet. The long and the short of it, said my father. I am not obsessed with height, having become average as a young teenager. Whatever average is. I am five feet nine and a half, but like to say five feet ten. Or about.
I am seventy five years old and make no secret of that fact. I smoke and drink. I do not back horses. Two bad habits are enough for anyone.
I live alone with my brother. Is that possible? It appears so. For further information see my poem David Ennis. Hear me sing and speak on YouTube. Are you a man or a mouse? Squeak up! Heard at a tender age and not forgotten. In the playground. While known as Tich.
So I am now in my second childhood. Is it an improvement on the first? Once again Tich, a name I did not like when young but adopt when old. There are just too many David Ennises in the world. I might get confused.
In real life I answer to the name David. Is this real life? It will do to be going on with. It will have to. I straddle two worlds. Now David, now Tich. Nom de guerre and nom de plume. The pen is mightier than the sword. I choose ink, not blood.
This is my manifesto. Tich Ennis is born again. David is dead. Get over it. You win some, you lose some.
For further revelations, watch this space. All will be revealed. I can’t say fairer than that.
What are you waiting for?
28th June, 2016
See me on YouTube