I know I am a wee bit older than most on here and believe me when I fully agree with the adage -: as you get older you remember things of yore with a lot more clarity than what happened yesterday. How I got thinking about this I do not know, blame it on the BB`s anyhow.

As a small child with short trousers and starched cuffs a visit to Newcastle was an adventure, from getting on to the bus, walking the busy streets and finally to finish off, inhaling those beautiful fumes from the gas chambers that was Marlborough Bus Station . I think about how the grip on my hand tightened , the parents either side of me striding out . eyes forward .. then relaxing again , this pattern only occurred when we passed The Turkish Baths, The Stoll Cinema and when at the Hoppings , Gipsy Rose Lee`s ornate caravan, need an explanation

-- Anonymous, February 14, 2001

Answers

And a comprehensive parents charter of no-go areas ,sick of football, but I did make nufc . com with teams who play in B/W, thanx Neil/Biffa

-- Anonymous, February 14, 2001

Try driving through Soweto in the 80's.

-- Anonymous, February 14, 2001

And no, I wasn't in the Army or Police.

-- Anonymous, February 14, 2001

Err sorry Bok, I was sort looking for the stories with humour thro the eyes of a child ,

-- Anonymous, February 14, 2001

I remember the Hoppings Buff, that was my first experience of being "mugged". About eight years old, dad gave me and me brothers a handful of pennies (the big ones with Brittania on the back) to play the bandits. Anyway, came out of the tent, got clagged around the ear by a "gypsie" lad and was relieved of me pennies. Bleeding and everything, ran off to find the dad, no idea where me brothers went. A quick pat on the head, another fourpence and the rest of the day was great. Also remember vividly going shopping with mam and brothers to Sheperds (sp?) of Gateshead. A million mile bus journey from Blakelaw. Amazing shop, even had their very own money, made of wood or some such thing.

-- Anonymous, February 14, 2001

As one got older, say 10, you were warned by well meaning elders that it was okay to go into the Miners Institute and watch the menfolk playing billiards, dominoes and playing table tennis but on no account were you to go into the reading room. This of course red rag to a inquisitive mind, what was wrong in going into this seat of learning, only retired miners reading the Daily Papers and smoking their pipes. It did not take me long to find out that two perodicals though not read when the room was full were a great attraction to a single occupant, The Tit-Bits and The Reveille risque publications then ,now probably on a par with the Sunday Post.

Two other warned off areas I can remind were the house two down, when I asked why cos the lady always spoke to me, the answer would be "That`s not hor husband young Billy", that`s hor fancy man, right,!!! Also off limits was this window of the local pub where as kids you could shin up on the ledge and look into the lounge especially on a Friday night as Friday night was Jolly Boy`s night, the reason I later found out was that the pianist batted for the other side and at that time this was taboo, we just enjoyed watching him bobbing up and doon on his piano stool, adults eh!. spoil everything

-- Anonymous, February 15, 2001

Titbits and Reveille is seriously nostalgic stuff! You'd have to have been growing up at the time to appreciate it, but I think there may be a few more than just you and me that it applies to, Buff.

Back in those days I had a fine head of hair (believe it or not) that required the regulation short back and sides every few weeks. The routine was to walk down from North Kenton to Ashburton Road, the nearest barber. He was a strange man whose only words to me for years were a growled "Cream on, sonny?" at the end of the haircut. The highspot though was reading the copies of Titbits and Reveille while waiting for my turn.

One day, his traditional gritted teeth words were replaced by "Anything for the weekend?". It was a simpler time, you understand, aeons before the idea of contraceptives in supermarkets and pubs. It was also totally lost on me at the time. What the hell did he mean? Perhaps he had a sideline in selling footballs? Maybe he sold cigarettes under the counter?

Walking back up Salter's Road, the penny eventually dropped. It completely spoiled my trip to the barbers from then on. I could never again manage to pore over those pictures in Titbits and Reveille with quite the same studied nonchalance, knowing that I was going to be asked the question... And, totally lacking both the bottle and the cash to make an unnecessary purchase, reply in the negative, revealing myself as a hopeless w******* to all of the other customers. Lost innocence, I suppose.

-- Anonymous, February 15, 2001

Talking of haircutting in a simpler age aeons ago, does anybody remember the fuss that was caused when some enterprising outfits introduced the dangerously radical idea of women cutting men's hair? That definitely challenged a few prejudices: there were letters in the broadsheets discussing its morality or lack of it, and conversations down the pub comparing notes about the experience. Seems hard to believe now, doesn't it?

For some strange reason, it also brings to mind the letter to one of the paper at the time from one of the new breed of women hairdressers for men. She described the way that she felt nervous at the reactions of the male customers. One day, she was acutely conscious that her customer was shifting around uncomfortably with his hands beneath the sheet. After a while, she realised that there was a strange rhythmic movement taking place in the region of his lap. With a cry of "Gotcha you disgusting perve!" she whipped the sheet off to reveal him... polishing his specs.

-- Anonymous, February 15, 2001

>>!" she whipped the sheet off to reveal him... polishing his specs.<<

A euphemism is ever there was one...

-- Anonymous, February 15, 2001

Well it is NOW...

I keep telling you, it was a simpler age.

-- Anonymous, February 15, 2001