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AmeriCymru spoke to Welsh crime fiction writer and roving guitarist Andrew Peters:-

" I was born in beautiful Barry on June 21st many years ago. That''s the longest day of the year ("Bloody felt like it too" Mrs GE Peters) so I have always yearned for the sun. After looking for it in vain in the UK, I toured the world as a guitarist and finally settled in Spain in 2004. "

Books by Andrew Peters

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AmeriCymru: Hi Andrew and many thanks for agreeing to be interviewed by AmeriCymru. Can you tell us a little about your Welsh background and how you came to be living in the wilds of central Spain?

Andrew: I was born in beautiful Barry on June 21st many years ago. That''s the longest day of the year ("Bloody felt like it too" Mrs GE Peters) so I have always yearned for the sun. After looking for it in vain in the UK, I toured the world as a guitarist and finally settled in Spain in 2004.

My parents left Wales when I was 10 and insisted I accompany them, but I have returned often, since my mother''s family are landed gentry in the millionaire''s playground of Aberdare, and Mother now lives in upmarket Saundersfoot.

AmeriCymru: At what point did you take up writing crime fiction? Would you describe your work as crime fiction?

Andrew: I never wrote anything at all until June 2012, when I wrote a story about murdering my ex (every boy''s dream) in response to some banter with Facebook friends. Inside two months, I had forty short stories written, all brilliant, and probably dictated by aliens.

Most of my stuff is crime related, and definitely fiction, though I am not one for the meticulously researched police procedural, and there will be no ritual serial killers sending cryptic clues to drunk policemen with unsupportive bosses and troubled marriages.

Most of my stuff has a Welsh connection and my puerile humour, but I did write two "straight" crime novels (JOE SOAP & SUBTRACTION) from which all Welshness and every joke was carefully removed. People still claimed to laugh at them.

AmeriCymru: Can you tell us a little about Otis King, Memphis'' Number One Welsh Blues detective?

Andrew: Well, The Blues Detective started out as just one short story in a collection, but has now expanded to twenty short stories, three Kindle novellas and two novels.

Otis K ing''s real name and origins are shrouded in mystery, though there is talk of bus-cond ucting in Aberdare, the Welsh Secret Service and a spell in the Glamorgan State Penitentiary. He moved to Memphis with his guitar to make it big, but only managed to make it small, so he supplements his income and funds his bourbon and blonde habits by investigating Blues-related cases. He''s rather a soft-boiled detective, since he scares very easily and guns make him nervous. Fortunately he can usually find some bigger blokes to do the rough stuff. He likes well-upholstered blondes, tidy guitars, Welsh bourbon,fast cars and despises modern jazz pianists.

AmeriCymru: Care to introduce your character Retired Chief Superintendent Williams (the semi-legendary "Williams Of The Yard") for our readers?

Andrew: Another strange character. He was a legend at Scotland Yard in the later years of the last century, but never talks about that. He only discusses his early cases as a young DI in Barry in the sixties. His recollections are a little clouded by the passage of years and gin. He hasn''t moved with the times too well, so can be a little lacking in the niceties of political correctness, and rather prefers the world of 1966 to 2013. Oddly for a detective, he gets on very well with his superiors and is very happily married.

Yes, I know...very far-fetched.

AmeriCymru: We learn from your bio that you share your place with two gorgeous local cats, more guitars than you can count and a fridge full of wine. Can you tell us a little about your guitar collection?

Andrew: Well.....one picture is worth 1000 words...

AmeriCymru: And,.... the all important question, are you a red or white wine drinker?

Andrew: Yes! But only to excess.

AmeriCymru: What are you reading at the moment? Any recommendations?

Andrew: I don''t read much at all these days, much prefer the guitars and getting outside in the real world. I recommend Robert B Parker, Damon Runyon, Dylan Thomas & PG Wodehouse...all of whom are too dead to sue me for blatant plagiarism.

AmeriCymru: What''s next for Andrew Peters? What are you working on at the moment?

Andrew: I think my oeuvre is complete now, ten books seems a nice round number, and nobody''s offering me millions to churn out any more. Not written a word since August and have no ideas.

AmeriCymru: Any final message for the readers and members of AmeriCymru?

Andrew: Awfully nice of you to chat to me, everyone please buy all my books immediately and make me stinking rich, famous and more attractive to women. Failing that, never forget you''re Welsh and if you ever have any Blues-related cases that need solving, call Otis King 634-5789

As Dana Scully peered into the thick conifer forest , she tried to rationalise the events leading up to the phone call.

The scene before her included an empty black ‘Son of Sam’s’ Taxi Cab with all doors and boot open wide. The Car keys were still in the ignition and the ‘For Hire’ sign was still illuminated.

Scully had concluded that someone had left in a hurry.

Fox Mulder had already made his mind up .

To him the answer was staring them in the face.

The empty cab, the reports of unusual sequences of flashing lights, the severed conifer branches and the huge felled pine tree blocking the sole entrance and exit to the Garw Nant layby could mean only one thing……

“ Loggers!” cried Scully suddenly.

Looking down at the discarded laptop in the back seat, Mulder replied. “ Well Scully there is DNA evidence of someone logging on in this layby but this crap circle has only possible explanation ……..alien abduction.

Scully, didn’t agree ….her examination of the cab interior found a blob of ectoplasm and a referee’s whistle on the passenger side seat.

Strange indeed….the most remarkable discovery was that of a gold chain hanging from a severed branch bearing a faded inscription….weathered and exposed to great heat and smoke.

Solicitor Ferrari Armani leaned back in his leather chair.

His latest client reminded him of the Sharon Stone character Catherine Trammell in the Basic Instinct in the way she crossed her legs .

The thought made him shudder as he remembered his former assistant ‘Jane Scampi Fries’ Davies and her own basic instink.

The brief had his own share of briefs over the years and had become accustomed to predatory women in his job as the Premier Valleys Divorce Lawyer but lately even he was becoming disturbed by the growing number of divorces.

His Ex-Files had reached stellar proportions as a growing number of Welsh women were citing that there men were being abducted by alien women.

It wasn’t the three- breasted kind from Venus …….but the two breasted kind from Vilnius and Bratislava who had flooded in to replace the Portuguese and Eastern European migrant workers from the local meat factory.

Tales of the unexpected turned to tales of complaints that their men had grown cold towards them ….brought on by ‘VWF’.

‘Vilnius white fallus’ was a disease known to affect the nether regions of Eastern European men due to long periods in the sub-zero meat factory.

Attempts by Armani to claim for the workers condition had failed to stand up in court.

The ‘knock –on’ (or knocking off ) effect was that the red-blooded Portuguese and Eastern European women became the ‘other woman’ in the Divorce Petitions.

All too common they were blaming the breakdown of the relationship on a certain pulling in place at Garw Nant as the scene of their infidelity.

Adjusting his ballpoint, Armani winced and sat forward intently fingers crossed.

“ So please tell me all the sordid details…….with diagrams if possible!!!!!”

Fox Mulder knelt by the side of the reservoir carefully scooping up another sample of ectoplasm that had dripped off the gold chain.

He could make out some of the letters….. M …OR ….but the rest of the letters were blurred ….it was no good .

The liquid slid down the glass phail like Louise Armstrong starting life.

Soon it would be in a test tube in a FBI laboratory in Washington.

Footprints leading into and away from the taxi-cab had been accompanied by various animal tracks….some canine…some part-human leading into the forest and surrounding Cwm Cadlan reservoir.

The Fox was foxed…..he was stumped…..witnesses had heard weathergirl Ulrika Johnsson announce on CB radio that the coast was clear on Dogger Bank followed by reports of unexplained flashing lights, cars arriving on mass at the various lay-bys……followed by reports of strange mooning creatures …then empty vehicles…with the only sign of life wriggling on the floor ….like celebrity come dancing.

He needed to get to the bottom of the mystery and he felt that the gold chain with the inscribed lettering was the key to the enigma.

As he entered his flexi-card into the Council work clock Mikey ‘One-Peeper’ Orwell had a wry smile on his uneven face.

Thursday Night he thought…..realising that he could see more dogging than White City at it’s prime…..he loved his job as CCT camera-man and his regular bonus of the goings on at Garw Nant meant that his minimum wage pay was compensated by his ‘win-a-lot’ on the dogs on Thursday night.

His sideline of blackmailing the local businessmen had kept him happy as he sat down to cut letters out from the Merthyr Depress for his next victim.

The Mayor passed by his camera booth busily looking for his missing ceremonial gold chain.

Ferrari Armani had done some digging , his investigation of the missing husband’s mobile phone had led him to the dilapidated Pontmorlais area of Merthyr Tydfil.

The telephone directory had given him a PO BOX registered to a disused listed building in the area…but which one there was so many…….

He was so engrossed that he failed to notice the whirr and click of the CCT camera overhead watching his every move.

His hunch led him to the old Dole Office partly ravaged by fire with water pouring out on to the once proud promenade.

During it’s 1980’s heyday the Dole Office was Merthyr’s biggest employer as Yehoudi Menuhin and other fiddlers signed on with cement and gloss-covered hands.

Today it stood empty….a Listed memory of Thatcher’s legacy.

He dialled the last recorded number on the mobile phone.

In the distance beyond the locked gates he could make out the sound of telephone ringing in tandem with the mobile.

The phone was answered by a female voice which sounded like the voice of an Angel.

The Charlotte Church sound-a-like enquired as to what service he required.

Cleaning the window-pane with his 9 carat gold embroidered handkerchief he could just make out the woman of his dreams on the other end of the mobile.

Reading from the caller display on the phone Armani asked in his best George Clooney voice “Is this East Romanian Prostitute Escort Services?”

“ Yes,….you have ERPES came the call-girl reply….pushing the top set of her false teeth out with her tongue sexily.

Repulsed Armani realised the Granny Sex Line based in the old dole office he had just connected to had his former Mother-in Law “Bubbles” sat amongst it’s recruits.

UB 40 he thought…..you be sixty if you’re a day!!!!

Feigning an excited response he stammered out a question to the toothless telephonist.

“ What’s got 52 teeth and a monster behind it?” he posed.

“ Que?” asked the gummy granny…wasting another £1.50 of call time.

“ My zip….!!!!!” He chuckled in character “ Where can I get a layby in a layby?” he quizzed the former all in wrestler with more chins than a chinese phonebook.

Without dropping her pipe , the bearded lady replied “ Try Garw Nant …what celebrity look-a-like do you want?”

Looking through the panes at the OAP sweat-shop the brief replied.

“ Tina Turner comes to mind….for some steamy windows”

******************************************************************

The Mayor looked here, the Mayor looked there but his Goldie looking Chain was missing.

Think ….where did I have it last……he checked his desk…his ermine robe…even the Chamber….no sign and he was due to meet some important Arab clients who wished to invest in Pontmorlais .

He couldn’t go to the meeting without his chain… he would feel naked…

A sudden image returned to his brain like a sudden morning after flashback.

His mouth opened with horror as he suddenly remembered where he had left it hanging.

In through the chamber door came the Faisal brothers who having seen the state of the buildings in Pontmorlais wanted to twin Merthyr with Baghdad.

Burping and farting his way through the buffet the cultural ambassador for Merthyr told his guests that we have many similar customs and third world conditions.

After sloshing down his sherry, the Chainless Mayor and the Iraqi Shiites were both well oiled!!!!!!

Forestry Commissioner Philip Mad doc Jones had seen some sights over the years in the Cwm Cadlan woods…some good…some as scary as in his Doctor Who days and more recently downright bizarre.

Tonight was to be no exception.

He sat silently as a well to do Solicitor pulled into the Garw Nant lay-by in his Silver Mercedes .

Ever since his fall from grace the former actor had left behind the stressful life of the big screen to follow his first love of nature and the wildlife that surrounded the Garw Nant visitor centre and reservoirs of Cwm Cadlan.

Many thought that the former ‘Magua’ had already ‘pined away’ but the lure of the heron, fishing and the clean ozone had preserved this former celebrity.

But lately the wildlife had been wilder than he had imagined and he had asked the Council to place CCT cameras at the entrance of the lay-bys to record footage of the Un-welcome visitors to this sacred haven.

The change of occupation had also helped avoid his ex-wife Ruth who was keen on a reconciliation and kept popping into his studio just to say “ Hi-De-Hi”.

This “ Ruth of all evil” drove him to distraction and the phrase still made his skin crawl.

He lie motionless in the carpet of pine cones as one by one the cars arrived for their dusk trysts.

The Silver Mercedes had been joined by a Black Taxi, a red BMW convertible, a Discovery Range Rover, a Pink Cadillac and more bizarrely three red ford escorts.

The Solicitor had been joined in the Mercedes by two women from one of the ford cars.

Inside the car the former actor could see two rubenseque shaped women who were Doppelgangers for Tina Turner and Native Red Indian comedienne Rosanne Barr.

In the Cadillac, Madoc could make out the shape of an Elvis look-a-like ‘rubbernecking’ and cavorting with Paris Hilton.

Inside the Range Rover sat a weird bearded man who was sat in a giant nappy reading a copy of the Financial Times.

The most sickening sight of all a Catherine Zeta Jones look-a-like was snogging passionately with an old dimpled man twice her own age.

Wriggling on his belly the former Dad’s Army U Boat Captain noticed a number of ‘Up periscopes’ on display as he reached the tree line.

“ Gott in Himmler!” he exclaimed as he realised that a number of real minor celebrities had gathered around the cars. .

Through the half-light he could just make out the shapes of Stanley Collimore, Jimmy Saville , his old pal Jim Bowen and darts announcer Tony Green.

And the Swedish woman naked bar for a shiner must be Ulrika Johnsson.

Most fearful of all was the sight of a yellow jacketed female camp hostess with luminous red lipstick

His Ex-wife was still looking to stalk him.

“ Now that’s what you call an Escort Service!” chuckled Mikey ‘One Peeper’ Orwellas the troop of look-a-like prostitutes left the red ford vehicles.

He couldn’t believe his eye as he began to witness images of celebrities over and undereach other the likes of which had not been seen since celebrity squares finished.

His ‘match of the day’ camera had caught a premiership referee being blown offside.

“ Bullseye….. ” he squealed in delight as he zoomed in on Tony Green and Jim Bowen pimping through the Mercedes at the Solicitor being straddled by a Private Dancer nearing his Nut-bush City Limits and a naked Red Indian woman in nearing his lap-top.

Looking at the Elvis figure….he trained his blackmail device squarely on this ‘You ain’tnothing but a Hound Dogger….followed by -a teddy boys picnic-“ If you go down in thewoods today…he hummed as he pressed the record button on the camera.

In all his fifty years of farming on the Gurnos, Farmer Oates had never seen a sight quite like it. One minute he was rounding up his straying sheep and the next he'd found a stray that just didn't belong.

Clinging for dear life to the rock face of the Morlais Castle was the fat, balding, Gerry Mander. Despite the Autumn mist there could be no mistaking his local representative, the Portcullis emblazoned on his vest clashing with polka dotted pink jockey shorts. Gerry never had any taste! he thought as he gazed up, some hundred feet above his head.

"Well goodness me, Gerry. What are you doing up there?"

"I'm practising my next public address at Speaker's Comer... . What the hell do you think I’m doing?"

Oates remembered then why he didn't vote for him the last time.

"My life is in ruins. I feel as if I've lost the winning lottery ticket... I'm going to jump!" "Your life's in ruins? What about us poor farmers? I'm down to my last £300,000! What with the EC quotas and the BSE crisis ...."

"But you're a sheep farmer!" Gerry interrupted. "What has BSE got to do with you?"

"They've stopped using my infected sheep in the cattle feed, that's what. But look at you, you've got the lot! Big house, good job, plenty of money. Why do you want to end it all?!"

"You'll read it all in the Merthyr Express this week! It's all down to a chance meeting with a total stranger on the Bryniau Common. Offered me Welsh Rarebit at his place. I was curious, see. I'd never had Welsh Rarebit, Caribbean style!"

Farmer Oates looked surprised and said

"A man of your education! I'm surprised you didn't use a bit of'common'." "Well, that's why I'm here, in this predicament!"

"Don't worry, I'll dash back to the farm house and get a tow rope. Soon have you down from there."

"Tow rope! Oh God! I remember. They've pinched my car! The despatch box! All my bits and pieces! Now there's real trouble."

"Losing the Dispatch Box ? Perhaps you'll lose the Whip!" "That WAS part of my bits and pieces."

"Sentimental value then?"

*****

Meanwhile, to the rear of The Gumos Tavern, a Rastaman, dreadlocks waving in the night wind, jem­mied open the boot of a gold coloured Ford Granada.

"It's Christmas again," said one of his interested apprentices, peering into the boot. "Almost as much drugs as they found in Elvis, I'll bet!"

"Hush up and open the box," said the Rasta. "We could be putting a lot of bread on the table with what's in there!"

As the apprentice opened the red box, inflation took over! Looking up at the Rasta he said

"I don't know about bread, man, but can you get mutton from a blow-up sheep?"

"Hello! Merthyr Express? Farmer Oates here, speaking from Pontsam. Got an exclusive for you. Bring a photographer and the usual twenty pieces of silver to Morlais Castle Quarry. If it's a cheque, make it payable to 'Public Spirited Citizen' - I'd prefer my good works to be anony­mous. Income tax, you know!"

Meanwhile, Gerry Mander wondered if finding his way on to the quarry ledge was another 'Error of Judgement'. Yesterday, he was a happy, thriving, thrusting member of the Labour Taffia. Today the world was literally at his feet but he was without car, mobile phone, pride and his dignity. Even his'R Mahoney' suits were all gone. His panic drove him to hallucinate. From his left shoulder someone said

"Go on, jump. What are you waiting for?"

He turned to see a little creature in a red suit holding a mini pitchfork. The face seemed familiar.

"I know you," said Gerry, "You're that Old Devil Horace Charles Jones, Poet Esq."

"You public servants are all the same ... two brains and no balls. Go on, make the world a bet­ter place - jump," snarled the imp.

"Why are you tormenting me?" sobbed Mander

"Well I couldn't find any other druid at this time in the morning and besides I hate ALL Public figures, especially bent ones."

"Don't listen to him!" From his right shoulder came a second voice.

"Think of your family man. Put your wife and children first. Sit down and wait for the Fire Brigade."

The voice belonged to another familiar figure, this time dressed in white. Peering, Mander could make out the face of the second voice.

"God forgive you. You're Ironmaster William Crawshay ... . I recognise you from the painting I stole from my Castle School ... surely you didn't come from Heaven?" "Cefn, actually! Short for Catholic Heaven.. and my God did forgive me ... he told me so in the 'Vatican', that well known public house on my way to Cefn." "Ignore him, mun!" interjected the Imp. "He's been on the Holy Water again. You've got life insurance haven't you ... jump and we can all enter the 'spirit' world."

Gerry's head flashed to and fro, Wimbledon style, between his two Faustly companions.

"He's right!" moaned Gerry. "I deserve to die. I've committed too many sins ... ."

"There's no such thing as too many sins. Look at me, I've got my wings!" said Crawshay, sound­ing rather like Father Ted.

"Hark at the Angel; sermonising from the Mount ... and that's enough verse ... I'm the Dead Poet remember," waxed Jones the Red, lyrically.

"Confess and you shall be saved my son, "Whispered the Seraph.

"Well, it started in 1997 after my landslide victory by two votes from Keir Hardie Junior Junior Junior... a small town boy arriving in Westminster. Fresh from my Cyfarthfa Gramma' School H'education I was easy prey for the Chief Rod and Black Whips!" confessed Mander. "Don't you mean the Black Rod and Chief Whips?" enquired the Cherub. He meant what he said," roared Jones in a demonic voice. "After that, I was introduced to Mandy and his Millennium Dome and my life has been a sordid existence of Kinky Sex, Drink and Niagara since," continued Mander. "You mean Viagra," queried the Imp.

"Niagara ... mine falls after the stuff. I've gone from being a chapel-going unionist son of a miner to a Red in the Bed Trouser Pocket Socialist with a libido to match my IQ." "See, you haven't changed that much then," suggested Crawshay. "Look at me. I changed when I came to Wales. I had more than my share of chambermaids, serving wenches, even the odd Pandy pit pony when I was desperate. But I was saved from eternal damnation and came back as a higher life form. There's hope for anyone."

"I've often wished to come back in a higher life form," mused Gerry.

From the quarry top came the sound of a hunting horn and hooves.

"I say old boy ... you in the polka dot shorts ... who are you talking to down there?" The Head of the Taf-Fechan Hunt peered down from his steed.

"Yoiks it's Gerry! I nearly didn't recognise you without your apron and lederhosen. Remember me? Paul from the Lodge on Tuesday nights!"

"Oh thank God ... it's a brother. Pull me up old chap, I've changed my mind .., er I'll never sleep walk again." said Gerry turning round, uncovering his face. "No can do old chap ... remember the Anti Hunting Bill you proposed ... well how can I put it ... as far as the Hunt is concerned you're well and truly foxed ... Tally Ho ... Soho.. hohoho!!!" "I'll table an amendment to exclude Vaynor!" But Gerry's voice disappeared into the lifting mist.

Soho he thought, that place had contributed to his downfall and THAT local land deal.

"What local land deal?" asked Crawshay, reading his thoughts. "Don't you read the Express?" asked Jones.

"Who does?" replied Crawshay.

"Well it was your land they sold. Ask him about him being slagged off for his measly £1.00 tip?" stirred the homed one moving his pitchfork in a circle and then into Gerry's back. Gerry winced, not with pain but with embarrassment.

"Look at him complaining about back stabbing ... that would've cost you £30.00 at your usual Club!" sneered the Devil.

Looking down Gerry could see the Firemen and Police racing past the burning Granada towards the quarry along the Cart track adjoining Gumos Farm. Screeching to a halt, out jumped an overweight Policeman who, having run some ten yards, arrived exhausted.

"Don't jump Minister. The BBC Wales cameras haven't arrived yet!!!"

"Stand back!" shouted Farmer Oates, powering his way to the front of the crowd, waving his camcorder. "If anybody's getting a tape to Mandy Dingle for the £500 it's me."

"Is there one or two "Rs" in Gerry?" shouted up the Express Reporter who was acting on (and with) a hunch. "Only we want to get the obituary column to read proper."

Gerry was oblivious to the remark. Gazing down with unseeing eyes he failed to notice the Elvis imper­sonator collecting for Children in Need from the gathering crowd. Nor did he see the local Fire Brigade repairing their safety nets with sticky tape. His mind drifted back to the back benches of Westminster and the Maastricht debating that had taken up so much time.

The static and the raucous tones of the 'Mouth of Merthyr' filling the quarry brought him back to reali­ty. "Live on Valley's Radio we will hold a Jack Straw Poll to determine Mr Mander's successor. But first, we have a special DEADication from your loyal Local Labour Party ... Van Halen's'JUMP'." The sound of heavy metal music wailed into the morning sky, gently replacing the whiff of Trecatti No 9

Gerry could hardly believe his ears and eyes. Word gets around so quickly in Merthyr, he mused as he gazed at the three ice-cream and potato vans illegally parked on the Sanatorium Hill. His eyes began to fill with moisture as his life flashed before his eyes. If I die this way I'll become a Martyr he thought. Raising his right foot, he felt like Dic Penderyn ready to face his accusers. Loyalty, Trust and Party Politics meant nothing, he sighed.

Suddenly, the voice of his faithful under-secretary John Thomas boomed into the quarry from above. "Grab this R A Bush roller pole ... I'll pull you up. You may be out of the Cabinet, the closet and politics but you can always lead the Welch Assembly" cried his aide. "The Welch Assembly! You voted for that shower" cried Crawshay. "You've buggered Wales worse than I ever did. Listen to the Imp and jump NOW!!!"

Grasping the greasy pole, Mander climbed to the top, smiling as only the hopeful driver of a future gravy train does.

As he reached the rim of the quarry, he mentally saluted his rescuer. But Gerry's glee was short lived. He hadn't seen the magnificent shot played from the 13th tee of the nearby golf course. As the golfball struck the back of his head, he teetered on the brink for a second before plunging to his death on the quarry floor.

A moment's silence was replaced by a rapturous, spontaneous applause from the gathered throng below.

John Thomas tried to work out the sudden increase in volume until he realised that Gerry had landed on the Express Reporter.

As the Council Leader replaced his nine iron he knew he played a masterstroke.

"Book me a season ticket for Cardiff Bay" he said to his Director of Golf and Fairway Services.

Unnoticed by the pair, two flies left the quarry floor heading in the direction of the Vatican. Gerry had got his wish!!!

He had translated to a higher life form.!

AmeriCymru: You have recently published a book entitled: Perspectives Of A Gay American Immigrant Scientist . Experiences over half a century in the United States and Britain?

Meurig: Yes, this was published by Amazon as a paperback in December, 2013. A Kindle online version is also available.

AmeriCymru: Tell us a little about your Welsh background.

Meurig: Over the generations my family members have been involved in a very wide range of occupations, including farmers, coal miners, small shopkeepers, paramedics, running a small betting organization, paratrooper who landed in Normandy on D-Day, policeman, many teachers at schools and universities, an uncle who died at the age of 107 and whose funeral was attended by many of his college students from far afield including European countries, consulting Forensic Engineer, Foreign Office professional, Chairman of British Beer festivals, human rights lawyer in Africa, Mayor of a town, County Council member, Associate Director of Education, escort for social events to an unmarried Conservative Lord Mayor of London, CEO of a chain of retirement homes, CEO of the Welsh TV station S4C, TV host (on S4C) of a Welsh cultural affairs programme together with Owen Edwards, managing directors at large banks and other companies, an MBE and a CBE. The free secondary education afforded by state-funded grammar schools, founded in the 1944 Education Act, and State Scholarships to universities which were based on merit, were strongly instrumental in the career success of recent generations. By emigrating to the United States in 1962 I lost touch with many of these interesting and colorful people so, in that sense, it was a double edged sword.

It is a matter of significance and pride to me that almost of these family members are or were fluent in the Welsh language, mostly for the purpose of everyday discourse. Others, I am proud to point out (I was not among these) are/were experts in Welsh to high academic standards. In fact, one of these, was the first woman president of the Dafydd Ap Gwilym Society at Oxford University, to which I also briefly belonged, until it quickly became evident that my ability to express thoughts beyond those required for everyday existence was just not there. In the last few decades there has been strong resurgence in Welsh pride in general, and the Welsh Assembly, created in 1998, must have contributed to this, as did the fine St David’s Hall, built in 1982, where concerts and other events of international stature are held, perhaps the most prestigious being the Cardiff “Singer of the World” competition for opera singers from all over the world. It is notable that this building was highly praised by The New York Times architectural correspondent. Ability to speak the Welsh language is a big part of this pride and today, for most public jobs in Wales, such as teaching and representation in local government, applicants are required to demonstrate their proficiency in the language, whether purely verbal or in written form. What a change from the days of “Welsh Not” when pupils were punished for speaking Welsh in schools in the late 19th and early 20 century, and this apparently persisted in some schools in North Wales until the 1940s.

AmeriCymru: How about your education?

Meurig: After Llandeilo Grammar school, I entered Jesus College, Oxford with a Meyricke Exhibition in 1955, interestingly (to me at least) the same award that was held by T E Lawrence (of Arabia). I received a first class honors degree in chemistry, followed by a DPhil (that is the Oxford fancy version of PhD) in peptide chemistry. You may have noticed that amino-acids always have the letter L preceding their names. This is because amino-acids can exist in two forms, L and D, which are identical except that they are mirror images of each other, just like our hands are. L and D stand for Laevo (left) and Dextro (right). A string of several amino-acids joined together form peptides, which constitute many naturally occurring substances in the human body, for example OXYTOCIN, a well-known pituary hormone affecting human reproduction. Proteins are simply very long strings of amino-acids joined together. One of the mysteries of nature is that almost all of the amino acids in naturally occurring peptides and proteins are of the L configuration. On account of their physiological importance, laboratory synthesis of peptides is of huge importance to pharmaceutical companies. Such synthesis is complicated by many factors, not the least being that, in most cases, some of the L form is converted to the D form during the synthesis, like an umbrella turning inside-out in the wind. The D form is then an impurity, so it is important to minimize its formation. That requires understanding how and why it occurs. Generating that understanding was my task in order to get a DPhil degree under the guidance of Dr G T Young, who had also been my undergraduate tutor. Sometimes luck does come one’s way, and I was able to solve that problem quantitativelyI was offered a Fulbright scholarship by Professor Sir Ewart Jones, a fellow Welshman who was born in the small town Rhostyllen, near to Wrexham, and was described as the most influential British scientist of his generation on account of his contributions to government committees, etc. The Fulbright would have provided very generous financial support over 2 years for continued studies at a university of my choice.

AmeriCymru: When and why did you emigrate to the United States?

Meurig: The Fulbright offer came with a caveat – I had to commit to returning to the UK after its completion. To the big surprise of Professor Jones, I declined and told him that I wanted more flexibility, but I did not tell him that the reason for that was primarily to escape from the horrendous homophobia which was prevalent in England at that time. Some will remember the notorious Lord Montagu case. Words like “monstrous perversion” were newspaper headlines for months on end. Murder was a crime against society, but homosexuality was a crime against nature.

Several times during the course of my career, I received letters from Professor Jones enquiring about my well-being and career, and mentioned that he occasionally ran into Dr Young. It was much later that it occurred to me what he may have been getting at. Dr Young’s wife had become Baroness Young of Farnworth, the Conservative leader of the House of Lords. Her main claim to fame, or should I say notoriety, was her adamant stance against giving any kind of equal rights to homosexuals. She ranted and raved on that subject as if she was in some way personally impaired, to the extent that she lost favor with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. London gay rights campaigner Peter Tatchell correctly declared that “she had poisoned society with prejudice and intolerance, and future historians will rank her alongside the defenders of apartheid”. I believe that, in view of my close relationship with Baroness Young’s husband, Professor Jones had figured out the reason for my flight from the UK and was concerned about that.

I knew that I was gay from a very early age and always considered homosexuality to be a perfectly normal and healthy part of the human condition, so the opportunity to escape from that hostility was very appealing. My solution was to accept a post doctorate position that the University of California, Berkeley in 1962, where I was tasked with isolating and characterizing the world’s first plant sex hormone, Sirenin. Here is a brief description.

Sirenin was the first fungal sex hormone to have its structure determined. It is produced by female gametangia and gametes of the chytridiomycete genus Allomyces and attracts male gametes of the genus. It was discovered in 1958 by Leonard Machlis and, with the help of organic chemists, was purified and had its structure determined by 1968. Machlis's success is attributable to his association at Berkeley with the world authority on the genus, Ralph Emerson, to his meticulous physiological work on the genus in the 1950s, to his skill in devising bioassays and to his organising ability and drive.

Put simply, Allomyces is a filament-like water-mold plant. Female parts discharge tiny amounts of a chemical substance to which the sperm generated by the male parts is attracted, and this results in fusion. I was presented with a large jar of brown water and told that this contains minute amounts of Sirenin. Using standard chemistry techniques, combined with a very clever method developed by Professor Machlis to assay its concentration, I was able to isolate it in pure form and start the complex process of structure determination (1). This was completed a few years later by a successor of mine.

AmeriCymru: How did your career develop after that?

Meurig: I joined the DuPont Corporation in Wilmington Delaware and stayed for 5 years in spite of a high degree of incompatibility. I will pass over this experience here in order to describe my later experiences at Xerox where the events which led to my recent book originated.

I joined the Xerox Webster Research Center in suburban Rochester, New York in 1970. Its appeal to me was twofold. It was a rapidly growing company with an exciting new product, the copier, which was of surging demand, and also that copier technology was based on sciences that were not well understood, which provided an opportunity for leading edge research. The success of Xerox represents one of the greatest technological triumphs in history, on account of the extraordinary complexity of the process combined with that lack of scientific foundation in two areas. One of these is called triboelectricity or simply contact charging. Whenever two materials touch and separate, an electric charge is generated. Buildup of such electrical potential can lead to electrostatic discharge with consequences that can range from discomfort, such as the mild jolt we experience by touching a doorknob after walking across a carpet, to disaster such as the fiery crash of the Hindenburg. Until recently, there was extremely little understanding of how and why such charges are generated, one of the main reasons for this being the assumption that it was a physics problem. I pointed this out in a cover page article in the July-August 2012 issue of The American Scientist, entitled: “What Creates Static Electricity? Traditionally considered a physics problem, the answer is beginning to emerge from chemistry and other sciences" (2). In addition, I published a detailed review of this subject in AIP (American Institute of Physics) Advances in February, 2012 (3), so I am well positioned to provide the following elementary explanation of this phenomenon.

When two metals touch and separate, it is well established that it results from the simple exchange of electrons from one to the other, a straightforward phenomenon in physics. When both materials are electrical insulators, such as most polymers, the mechanism is complex and is currently being unravelled in brilliant research by two groups, headed respectively by Professors Grzybowski at Northwestern University and Galembeck, Director of the National Nanotechnology Laboratory, Brazil. When two polymers make contact, some degree of entanglement occurs between the polymer chains at the surfaces, so that separation is accompanied by polymer chain scission and the transfer of material of nanoscopic dimensions between the surfaces. This chain scission is accompanied by the formation of free radicals at the ends of each chain. As is well known, free radicals are highly reactive and are converted to positive and negative ionic charges either by reaction with ambient water or exchange of electrons. Use of advanced high resolution analytical techniques revealed that each surface, after separation, supports a random mosaic of oppositely charged regions of nanoscopic dimensions, and the net charge on each surface is the arithmetic sum of the individual domain charges. So it is the mechanical forces causing bond cleavage of the polymers that is the driving force for charge generation, and this takes future studies into the realm of mechanochemistry, an obscure and complicated field. Grzybowski et al took this understanding a step further by explaining that the surface charges are stabilized by intimate association between the polymer radicals and the ionic charges. They pointed out in a recent paper in SCIENCE that, if the polymers contain materials that act as radical scavengers, the stability of the surface charges is lost and the charges fail to build up or dissipate rapidly. I explain this here on account of its extraordinary importance to the electronics industry. Damage to electronic equipment by static discharges accounts for the loss of billions of dollars each year. And the continued miniaturization of electronic equipment renders it even more susceptible to low voltage discharges. Gross reduction or elimination of such discharges by the above process discovered by Grzybowski et al would go a long way to the prevention of such losses. It is my opinion that this work by Grzybowski et al may well result in a Nobel Prize on account of its combination of scientific brilliance and enormous economic importance.

The third case, of course, is contact between a metal and a polymer, and it is believed that both of the above mechanisms, electron and material exchange, occur. I have been the first to recently propose an approach for determining the degree to which each occurs in any given contact event (4).

AmeriCymru: How is this related to your book?

Meurig: My book was not originally a planned event. I have now been retired for 13 years, and is not uncommon to reflect upon the past in retirement! Such reflections on my early career led to a discovery only a few years ago of some shockingly unprofessional behavior by my colleagues at Xerox several decades ago. I thought that a description of these events, together with an analysis of cultural factors pertaining to them, made a good story that would be of interest to some readers.

It was my response to that shocking discovery that led to a process of self-reinvention resulting in my book. I described this process in the following comments I recently contributed to an article “American Voices on Reinvention” in The Huffington Post (5):

"The driving force for self-reinvention can evolve and change as the process takes place, so that one reinvention leads to another. Well into retirement, I recently discovered that my scientific publications from 35 years ago had been treated by corporate colleagues in ways that could be considered misrepresentation and plagiarism. Addressing those injustices after such a long time required a reinvention of myself by returning to the world of scientific journals and research after an absence of over 30 years. Thanks to the online availability of scientific journals, I brought myself up to date on the recent developments in the field, and integrated them with my early work. This resulted in a series of successes - several publications in peer-reviewed journals, a cover page article in The American Scientist in 2012, an invitation to be a keynote speaker at a major conference hosted by NASA in 2013, and a job offer. On further reflection, I wondered if there could have been a connection between the way I was treated and the corporate culture of those times. Being both a relatively openly gay man and an immigrant (from the UK) was a combination which made me a socially acceptable target for homophobic and other forms of abuse. Such thoughts propelled me into a second reinvention. I wrote a book entitled "Perspectives of a Gay American Immigrant Scientist," which explored and expanded upon these considerations, including a discussion of experiences and cultures at Oxford University, UC Berkeley, DuPont, and Xerox.

AmeriCymru: Do you think homophobia is any more or less prevalent then it was half a century ago?

Meurig: In general, homophobia in most developed countries is far less than half a century ago, but there is still a very long way to go before we are well integrated into society. The clearest indicator of progress is the advances made in legalization of gay marriage. The most pronounced generalization remains the correlation between progressive attitudes on homosexuality and the general standard of living in a country. Scandinavia and Holland have long been at the leading edge, and African and some Caribbean countries at the other. I have not yet heard an explanation for Putin’s retrogressive attitude.

A very important development for scientists and engineers was the establishment in 1983 of the major and thriving organization NOGLSTP (National Organization of Gay and Lesbian Scientists and Technical Professionals, Inc.), based in Pasadena, CA. This is a non-profit organization that educates and advocates for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer students and professionals in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics.

In addition, the IEEE (Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers) announced in January 2014 a change to their code of ethics to include language prohibiting discrimination on account of sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression. The importance of these changes cannot be overstated. With nearly 400,000 members in 160 countries, the IEEE is the world's largest professional organization. Now, electrical engineers and computer scientists around the world, including those in countries like Russia and Saudi Arabia, know that their professional organization stands for non-discrimination against LGBT individuals both as practice and as rule.

A very surprising event was the recent position taken by Pope Francis that he would not pass judgment on gay people. Whether this is true leadership or political positioning remains to be seen. Wouldn’t it now be time for the British Royal family to show leadership on this issue? Are we to believe that they are the only family in Britain not to have any gay members? We know better of course and, the Queen being the head of the Church of England makes it a bit sticky for them. Both the Church of England and the Catholic Church have in common large numbers of gay clerics as most people know, but this still needs to be unspoken. A prominent gay Welsh Bishop was a personal friend of mine at Oxford, as was the chaplain of one of the older colleges.

Several gay athletes are now coming out of the closet, as they say, and this is clearly just the beginning of a trend. Very recently, 24 year old University of Missouri's star football player Michael Sam announced that he is gay. Unlike many athletes, Sam chose to come out at the start of his career, which will represent a test for the readiness of the NFL (National Football League) which he is expected to join later this year. His name is added to the growing list of prominent sportsmen and women who have come out: Gareth Thomas, Wales's former rugby union captain; retired Aston Villa midfielder Thomas Hitzlsperger; Surrey cricketer Steven Davies; Orlando Cruz, the Puerto Rican featherweight boxer; and basketball star Jason Collins. Sam was personally congratulated by President Obama and his wife Michelle. Sam’s timing is also opportune. With gay rights issues overshadowing the Sochi Winter Olympics and Casey Stoney, the captain of England's women's football team, declaring herself gay, the sports world has found it can no longer confine the debate about the sexuality of its stars to the margins.

AmeriCymru: Where do you go from here?

Meurig: I am considering writing another book. Now why would I want to do that? The process of writing is addictive and it is a satisfying experience when one can put forth thoughts and ideas hopefully in a clear and logical manner. Then, my published book could have been a bit less terse, and I could have smoothly elaborated on many of my points. But above all, it is this. In the book I have made comparisons between Britain and the United States and Scandinavia, but none between England and Wales. And yet, I have long been of the opinion that the acceptance of homosexuals was very different in these countries. I have described that “of all of the world’s developed nations, Britain stood alone in its extreme attitudes towards, and heavy penalties for, homosexual acts”. I used the word Britain loosely here when I should have used the word England. I do have some ideas on why Wales was far kinder to homosexuals than England several decades ago and, if I am able to research and develop a persuasive case for this, then another book will be in order.

AmeriCymru: Any final message for the readers and members of AmeriCymru?

Meurig: Whereas I state that “my purpose in writing this (book) is to make a small contribution to the furtherance of progress by throwing light on some personal experiences”, I have also introduced some provocative ideas and hypotheses which may be debatable. It is my hope that a discussion on these can be stimulated.

References

1. Production, Isolation and Characterization of Sirenin, L. Machlis, W H Nutting, M W Williams and H Rapoport, Biochemistry, Vol 5, No 7, July 11, 1966

2. What Creates Static Electricity? Traditionally considered a physics problem, the answer is beginning to emerge from chemistry and other sciences. Meurig W Williams, The American Scientist, July-August 2012

3. Triboelectric Charging of Insulating Polymers, Meurig W Williams, AIP Advances, Feb 8, 2012

4. Triboelectric charging in metal-polymer contacts – How to distinguish between electron and material transfer mechanisms, Meurig W Williams, Journal Electrostatics, Feb 1, 2013

5. American Voices on Reinvention, The Huffington Post 2/12/2014. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/russell-c-smith/american-voices-on-reinve_1_b_4777992.html