Wednesday 3 July 2019

About this time of year, Scrobs occasionally (usually), has recall of a time back in the sixties, when a fourteen-year old boy was whisked away to the valleys in Wales, to undertake education in various pursuits, such as rugby, Latin, chemistry etc. It meant that I rarely saw my family for about ten weeks each term, which wasn't easy at first!

On the rare occasions that my dad could come up on a Leave Sunday, he was usually shattered about now, because the hop-picking season was just beginning to start, what with all the machinery servicing being finalised, the oasts having a last check-over and all the hops in the gardens in Kent and Worcestershire had to be checked for disease etc.

So, if a trip to the middle of England to one of the farms was on the cards, then dad would pop over and we'd go out for lunch somewhere.

On one occasion, he was so tired, that after lunch, he parked up in a leafy glade, grabbed a blanket and went for forty winks on a mossy bank a few yards from the car. Back then, a radio in a car was quite rare, and he even had to 'make a case' for one as he often drove for eight hours in a day, to visit farms everywhere, and a bit of light entertainment would help more than somewhat!

The powers-that-be eventually let him have an early Motorola installed. This was the wireless which he said I could listen to while he had a kip, and so I did.

It's funny really, but I still remember two of the songs which were played that afternoon. Up to recently, I never really bothered to get copies, and in the case of one of them, nobody had ever heard of it!




and...


 

It was these two songs which eventually turned up on YouTube, and they just take Scrobs back all those years to a Vauxhall VX490 and a mono radio, in the dappled shade...


5 comments:

Thud said...

You have an extraordinary memory, nice but sad to hear of an England that no longer exists.

A K Haart said...

Strange how some songs stick in the mind for decades and bring memories flooding back. As Thud says - memories of an England that no longer exists.

Scrobs. said...

You're right, Mr H.

The recall is as bright now as it ever was, and to remember England and Wales back then is a privilege, as well as a perfect painting of a time - even in our generation, of an allowance for love, friendship, new hope, a decent job, a girlfriend etc.

I wonder how I'd deal with all that these days...

Scrobs. said...

Thud, it only does in a generation near mine I fear.

I watch your girls' videos, and see such charm and family love - it just permeates - and I wonder what happens to girls less fortunate that yours, shoved into some awful place where there's no hope.

My recall was always 'hope', and probably, because of mum and dad's love, expectation that it'll always turn out right!

Luckily, I met Mrs O'Blene, and life has never been bad since!

But I never even dared to think that I'd get that sort of result back in 1962...

goosegirl said...

My earliest memories of radios was when I visited my gran who had a wooden one with a green screen and she refused to get undressed when it was on in case she could be seen! The next is when I had a stay-over with a pal and we used to listen to Radio Luxembourg on a Bakelite radio and had to keep getting out of bed to re-tune it, and I remember the Horace Batchelor ads and some of the names of stations such as Hilversum and the Home Service. The last memory was when I got my own Philips radio which I tuned in to Radio Caroline North, and the first thing I did when I got back from school was to lie on my bed and listen to all the fine songs. I remember "Flowers in the Rain", "If you're going to San Francisco", and the Top Twenty hit list because that was the only way you could hear the latest songs. They were such simple and happy times when the sun always shone and hopes for the future were bright. God help the children of tomorrow!