First vacation: As a child, to Southend, Essex, and Perranporth Cornwall, to visit relatives. As an adult, to Dublin, and then to Venice, Florence and Rome. I was worried that, not speaking Italian, it would be highly problematic. Of course it wasn't.
First car: A secondhand Austin A60 in the late nineteen sixties. Forever breaking down and needing repairs. But usually it got me to my girlfriend's house.
First job: A cub reporter on the Harrow Observer (a London suburb). Journalists were paid very well in those days - a generous salary plus expenses.
First crush: A trainee solicitor called Sue W. We never actually dated. Probably a good thing as she proved to be almost as neurotic as me.
First kiss: Another neurotic woman called Maggie H. We were enthusiastic kissers and long, lingering French kisses were the norm.
First flight: As a child, in a friend's mother's private plane. I felt decidedly queasy, but it was an amazing trip. As an adult, to Dublin.
First fancy dinner: I don't go in for fancy dinners, but I guess you could count the lavish marriage reception for our friends Joy and Kevin.
First apartment: Actually a couple of rooms in a shared house. Very cosy because the owner (a friend of a friend) had recently renovated the house. Also where I lost my virginity (at the ripe old age of 22).
First record: Not sure. Possibly the single "How Do You Do It?" by Gerry and the Pacemakers. Or something by Billy J Kramer.
First pet: As a child, two Scottish terriers called Mac and Remus. Lots of mice and the odd hamster. As an adult, none. I'm happy to admire other people's.
First concert: I made regular visits to the Marquee Club in Soho. I don't remember which was the first band I saw - probably someone long-forgotten.
Compiling that lot stirred up a few poignant memories. I sometimes forget what an eventful life I've led.
PS: I see that I did a slightly similar post a couple of years ago
