I was born in 1954 at a very early age to
Ken Duckmanton and Audrey Wilson
at number 14 Carr Lane in a small village called
Warsop near Mansfield in Nottinghamshire, England.
I have a brother Terry. He's a lot older than me so we didn't play together much as kids. But he used to let me play with his imaginary friend . . . because I didn't have one of my own.
I was lucky enough to have a Grammar School education. I wanted to be called Ducko at school but they all called me Ducky. Kids can be so cruel.
My wife Jan and me (Behind every good man etc ...)
Daughter Jamie and first grandson Liam
After leaving school and starting work I continued to live in Warsop until I was about 36, punctuated only by a brief 4 year spell living in Coalville near Leicester. Initially I lived with my parents but mum used to wrap my sandwiches in the property pages of our local paper. Eventually I got the message and bought a house of my own.
My job had me relocating in 1991 to live in the seaport of Grimsby on the Lincolnshire coast.
Grimsby's ok I suppose. It's a bit like Mansfield with ships.
My dad always maintained I'd end up working in a rice pudding factory knocking the skins off with a flannel hammer, but now I'm Works Chemist at a coal processing plant.
I guess we can't all live up to our parent's expectations.
I evaded matrimony until I was 37 then married childhood sweetheart Janet Dawson.
We have a daughter Jamie born 1981 who has two boys, Liam and Jack.
I'm into motorbikes, Formula 1, Pink Floyd, computing, electronics, family history and the occasional beer ... but not necessarily in that order.
I've also spent time skydiving, clay pigeon shooting, windsurfing and target pistol shooting among other things. Spent a lot of money on them all and never got particularly good at any.
My doctor described me as a paranoid schizophrenic. Well he didn't actually say it but we both knew he was thinking it.
I've lost some teeth and most of my hair.
My hearing has detriorated to the point where I have to use a hearing aid from time to time.
And my eyesight's going so I have to wear specs now too.
Apart from that I'm fine . . . except for the heart attack in 1998. Now that was a surprise.
Me and Jan on the Isle of Man at the TT races in 2007
Me and second grandson Jack
I can just see the roof of the Old Rectory from our back bedroom window if I stand on my tip-toes.
I'm going to take time out to finish writing my book. I don't know what it's going to be about yet but I've already got all the page numbers done . . .
Aim for the moon and the stars, and if you only hit the outhouse roof at least it's progress in the right direction.