I commented on a recent post from Zoe about her son, Todd, who seems to be a bit of a “tearaway” as my old Gran (silly old bat!) used to say when she described me in my teens as a “Teddy Boy”.

Then I got to thinking about those halcyon days when we didn’t have a care in the world. That is until the media attacked the Teddy Boy culture in 1953 following a murder from a ‘gang’ stabbing on Clapham Common and moral panic ensued condeming all teens dressed in the flamboyant Edwardian style. We were banned from dancehalls, restaurants, some cafes and cinemas if we dressed in our “gear”.


Teddy Boys were part of a continuum of male peacockery that descended from, among others, the London Spiv. Teddy Boy styles and attitudes spread from London to the rest of the country where they fused into regional variations like Tony Curtis haircuts, sideburns, drape jackets or drainpipe trousers. In general we were pretty harmless, although we did rebel against the authority of our parents, the police and anybody who had a go at us. All we wanted to do was “pull the birds” and have a good time hanging around “Banner’s Milk Bar” on a Saturday Night, and walking around the “Monkey Run”. (A local arcade in the town where boys met girls). The boys walked around in small groups anti-clockwise, and the girls in a clockwise direction and eventual paired off and disappeared in the local park for a bit of “snogging”!

In those days the pubs closed at 10:30pm and you had to be 21 and over, strictly enforced, before you could buy alcohol but our gang wasn’t interested in booze anyway. Drugs were rare, in fact I don’t think any of us ever tried them, I much preferred to have a Strawberry Mike Shake in the company of a nice girl! I still sometimes sneak into McDonalds for a sly milk-shake, but the company of a nice girl has long since eluded me.

Yes, we did go to Margate and Skegness on Bank Holidays and raise hell, but although there were a few scuffles with the “Mods” we didn’t go in for shooting and stabbing that seems to be so popular nowadays.

Two news items on the Internet caught my eye this morning.

The first headline reads “Black British couple give birth to white blue-eyed blonde baby girl”. It then goes on to say, “A black couple have amazed medical experts after their baby daughter was born with white skin, blue eyes and blonde hair.” Unbelievable!

It gets better. The article goes on to state “. .  .has flummoxed genetic experts who are unable to explain why she looks they way she does”. Some experts! Are you thinking what I’m thinking yet?

No, can’t be that because the husband stated that “My wife is true to me. Even if she hadn’t been, the baby wouldn’t have looked like that”. I believe him. Pale skin genes can skip generations but neither the wife or husband – who only moved to Britain five years ago – know of any white heritage in either of their families. Well, that’s knocked that theory on the head.

I’m just wondering if there is a white, blue eyed blonde Saxon couple in Sidcup who have just had a baby and are staring in disbelieve at the black Nigerian baby lying in the cot. . . .

A Professor of ‘Certain Things and Unexplained Happenings’ said both parents would have needed ‘some form of white ancestry.’ He added: “The hair is extremely unusual. Even many blonde children don’t have blonde hair like this at birth. The rules of genetics are very complex and we still don’t understand what happens in many cases” Perhaps if the Professor would like to meet me at Reneé’s Café in Upper Wallop for a glass of vin rouge I will explain the facts of life to him.

Source:  Yahoo News.

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The second news item is one of the best examples of political correct news reporting I have ever seen.

First though I would like to extend my sympathy to the family of Grace Ford, the girl involved in this tragic incident, and to assure them that I’m only pointing out the stupidity of the report.

Teen Critical After Holiday Balcony Plunge.

Sky News understands an 18-year-old Briton was arrested, accused of failing to help the victim, but has since been released. However, he is expected to appear before a judge in the capital Palma when he may be formally charged.

OK so far, but now the reporter dons his PC hat.

It is claimed the young man helped Miss Ford exit the room through a window.

What is that supposed to mean? That he pushed her out the window?

He apparently told officers he believed it led to an outside area that allowed access to and from the building. Instead, the room overlooked a courtyard and she fell seven storeys.

The young man is renting a flat on the seventh floor, so how can he climb six flights of stairs, or go up in the lift and still think he’s on the ground floor? Reports said police found the young man asleep in the apartment after the teen’s fall. Could you fall asleep after an incident like that?

Source:  Sky News 

Update: (Sunday, 18 July 2010)

I have blotted out all the references to the Council concerned (bless ‘em!) because I received a communication that they found the pis. . .er, spoof of their original advert deeply offensive and very kindly asked me to remove it, . . . or else!

I couldn’t do that because it would have meant the post and all the interesting comments would have disappeared too, so I have blanked out all references to the Council concerned (bless their little cotton socks!) who seem to be lacking somewhat in the good old ‘British Sense of Humour’.

Unknown Soldiers

Last summer I was browsing around the stalls of the “Antique and Bric-a-Brac” fair which is held every Friday in the Market Place, Hinckley, when I came across a rather tattered old cardboard box. I had a quick look inside and found it to be full of what can only be described as “nick-nacks” from a bygone age. It all looked very interesting so I made a bid for it and the stall holder agreed, saying that he was glad to see the back of it because although people looked at it they didn’t appear to be interested.

I hurried home with my new found treasure, my “Pandora’s Box”, where I carefully took out all the bits and pieces and examined at them. It slowly dawned on me that it must have belonged to one of the soldiers in the photograph, which was in the box.

There was a variety of military buttons and regimental badges and all looked as if they had been polished fairly recently. There was a number of army tunic flashes that had been unstitched from some uniforms and very dirty with what looke like mud stains, some shell cases which I recognised as .303 rifle rounds. A ladies comb, carved from ivory (not sure), a rather bedraggled badger-hair shaving brush, a tin mirror, collar studs and an old Boy Scouts belt buckle plus loads of lesser stuff.

I came to the conclusion that the person who owned must have died recently and was probably the son of one of the soldiers who would have been about 85 if he was the son of one of the young men in the picture. The stall-holder who sold it to me was a “house clearance person”!

OK, so I’ve got a vivid imagination, Perhaps I’m wrong (I usually am!), it could just be a box load of junk that the dealer had thrown all his unwanted stuff into.

There was an old book of tear-out postcards of Rouen dating back to the early 20th century. The book itself is in a delapidated condition, but the postcards are in fair good nick. Two of them have been used. Could it be that the original owner was stationed near Rouen in the World War I and used them to write home? There I go again, my imagination is running riot! If you are interested, Anji, email me.

UPDATE: (Sunday, 4th)
I recently had the old scout buckle renovated and a new leather belt attached, big enough to fit around my expanded waistline! The original belts were dark brown and had a clip on both hip sides to attach an approved ‘scouting knife’ that had a marlin spike, cutting blade and a screwdriver with beer-bottle-top opener! (eh?).

I thought it would look better with a black leather belt.

Click the pic for larger image, and then click that one for an even larger image.