Greetings dear ballroom friends, sadly sales of my recent autobiography have fallen dramatically somewhat recently so in a truly shameful plug I offer this fascinating snippet from the said tome', now retailing at just £1.99 "it truly is a delight to the senses for all lovers of Les Sheepshanks, ballroom dancing, pork and life in general!" (Fettis Rinseed-Glove - The Barrow evening Herald)
Here we go with another fascinating glimpse from the annals of the Lester Sheepshanks treasure vaults - concentrating on my early ballroom dancing career - it's a chuffin' belter, enjoy!!
"Growing up on the rat infested back streets of Barrow in Furness were indeed a real, hard lesson in life and one which truly stood me in good stead for the huge successes, massive upheavals, terrible traumas and earth shattering tragedies which were to await me in later years. Life was hard back then, My wastrel Father Whitworth drank like a fish and beat us children regularly whilst Mater' worked like a graceful club footed, arthiritic shirehorse with a glass eye (but a proud one at that!)
Yes them was rotten days I say, life was especially difficult for me taking my first tentative steps in the heady world of competetive ballroom. Obviously I had a hell of a lot to live up too, it is no secret that dear old Mater was widely known as one of the Northern regions best ballroom dancers back in the 1930's and 40's, indeed her and her loyal partner the dashing and truly charming Gladstone Fishlathe' were regularly winners of some of the regions top competitions. Indeed there were several vicious rumours circulating that there was more to Mater' and Gladstones professional relationship than dancing but surely I would have known if there was as Mater' confided virtually everything in me - financial worries, fear of Father's brutal beatings, supper recipe' quandries even concern over her heavy and irregular monthlies!! yes our relationship truly was a fookin' special one and one which I miss even more now - god how I wish she was here...... back to dancing matters though - I couldn't possibly fully comprehend the full magnitude of the task involved in making dear old Mummy proud of me and my dancing career, but by eck Mater' I did it didn't I? yes I fookin' did you proud you old beauty you!!...
Even from an early age Mater' encouraged me with all of her heart and simply only wanted what was best for me and that obviously was to concentrate on my vastly promising ballroom career leaving schoolwork a sorry second, Father wanted me to follow him working in the towns tough shipyards but that was no place for a hugely talented, sensitive, pork loving dancing boy like me - no sir! Even then I knew I was different and that I was destined for truly monumental things, whilst the other boys were scrumping for apples or cheerily torturing stray cats or goading sickly pigeons in the back street I was pressing wild flowers and practising my dance moves at home - I was so advanced that I was even beating men twice my age in the working class clubs of Barrow in Furness in impromptu dancing contests at the age of fourteen!! eeh such good times!
But I really do owe most of my early success to precious Mater', after working a gruelling 14 hour shift at the local toilet factory Mater would leave for her early evening cleaning job down the bus depot before gracing the dance halls of Barrow with her club footed gazelle-like ballroom prowess. Not a lot of people know this but due to her agonising, and chronically severe gout Mater' won many of her contests wearing her loyal and trusty heavy size 10 orthopaedic dancing shoe! - pushing herself with sheer resolute dedication and a cast iron will to succeed through searing pain and agony. Mater what a proud, brave beauty you really were!!!!! Even back then though my father was insanely jealous of the unique loving bond that blossommed between dear sweet, silvery haired Mater and me, there is nothing shameful, unmanly or dubious about the true love between a Mother and her son, nothing at all folks - contrary to what simpering, lily livered fops like my arch nemesis and dance rival Austin Lockett would absurdly suggest in later years!!
I remember coming home from school one freezingingly cold Winters evening to find my drunken brute of a Father with his hands clasped tightly around Maters throat "You'll fookin ruin that boy Hinge" he hissed swigging from a bottle of brown ale. "Do you really want him to grow up as a queer, flower pressing, limp wristed ballroom dancing nancy boy!?!" he growled....Without a thought for my own safety I threw down my school satchel in fury and quickly slipped on my silken lilac dancing galsoshes and before you could say "Let's all Samba!" I had proceeded to distract Whitworth by executing a few rather fetching and imaginative dance moves on our threadbare living room rug....with the drunken old twot distracted Mater' bravely slipped from his clutches straight next door to seek help while I bravely took on the old bastid....Father may have beaten me to a sorry, blood soaked pulp and left me in Barrow infirmary for 3 weeks with a perforated lung, fractured jaw and four broken ribs but I learnt a valuable lesson that day and one which stood me in truly good stead to make me the man I am today!!! - a fookin' winner!!!
By the time of my 16th birthday I truly was the talk of the town and famous for my promising dancing skills, I lived, slept and breathed the joy of Ballroom dancing, and little else mattered to me really (except maybe for my blossoming love of pork and all it's fragrant wonders!!). In many ways I was growing far too big for the humble, broken town of Barrow and decided there and then to broaden my horizons as I packed my bag and headed off for the home of the famous tower ballroom and my true dancing Mecca.....fookin' BLACKPOOL!!!! oh yes!!"
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