Nah then folks, during the 60s..

[louan 10]

'cuttsie' at a guess.

 

Great reading, cuttsie's also a great storyteller. Been waiting for something from him for ages!

 

---------- Post added 30-06-2013 at 11:26 ----------

 

Yes Memari well spotted. My mum hated me and I was scared of her, that's why i was always out and about. I loved my dad. Bless you lady.

 

The sins of the parents!

 

---------- Post added 30-06-2013 at 17:19 ----------

 

Oh Memari, that Zakes makes me lol. Love the bit about the Anglo/French condoms. Not sure we should be encouraging someone who speaks in the third person but hey ho - he's so amusing and his memory is phenomenal. Still very frustrated about not knowing who he is though - wish someone would put us out of our misery.

 

I'm guessing he's living or has lived in Germany, possibly Southern Germany or some other German speaking country. Can't wait for more of his episodes. Did older Zakes at sometime leave the country?

[cuttsie 1,089]

Cousin Daphne. Edited version Re-mastered.

 

Creating waves whilst lying in the bath at home Zakes had a look of intent upon his cute, cheerful, cheeky cherubic face. The hot soothing Radox filled water was swaying forth and back at five hands high at it’s lowest, as he was thinking of his wayward cousin, Daphne.

 

The swipping and swapping of the water could be clearly heard, as the waves rose to become more violent as Zakes recalled those heady days of the last Autumn gone when Daphne had come to stay for a week. During the second night Daphne had crept into Zakes’ bedroom and had requested a cuddle. Zakes had been glad to have been of assistance because it had been ruddy well freezing in the room. One thing had led to another and before long Daphne had slid half way down under the bedclothes, and within within moments the confused 13 year old Zakes didn’t know whether he was coming or going. After a few minutes Zakes asked Daphne if she was alright down there, and warned her that things could get messy if she wasn’t careful. His cousiness told Zakes everything was okay and to stop talking gobbledegook, Zakes responded by telling her it was bad manners to talk with her mouth full.

 

After the waves had died down, the almost breathless Zakes climbed from the bath then dried himself with a fluffy green towel. He didn’t like what he saw in the full length wall mirror and quickly dressed after powdering himself. Reaching for the cupboard like canister of Vim, Zakes speedily scrubbed the bath clean of it’s tide mark, and also made sure not to leave any evidence of his enjoyment.

 

Warmly wrapped up, Zakes left the family home at Newstead Rise and took the decision to have a gander around the shops at Frecheville. It was snowing quite heavily, the flakes the size of half crowns. It was easy going as the snow lay round about shallow, soggy and odd, as opposed to that senseless wenseless carol. It was now coming up to the fourth week of December in the year 1967 and Christmas was just a few days away, and Christmas Day is the present day, and not just today.

 

Walking along Newstead Road, Zakes didn’t come across a robust man who didn’t rest upon his laurels, nor did he come across a grey haired old man. Approaching Frecheville shops Zakes also didn’t hear a woman calling his name and try to sell him her wares.

 

Arriving at Frechy, Zakes had a good look around all the shiny shops and met many people he knew, and everyone seemed to be looking forward to being visited by Santa in a few days time.

 

Peering through the window of the Butcher’s shop, Zakes saw nine Anatolian Norfolk Turkeys on display, and not only thought that they and cousin Daphne were good gobblers, but he also thought all ten of them within the next few days would want, and would get, a reight good stuffin’!

 

Dedicated to Sheffield’s best ever bricklayer. He’s ours, leave him alone.

You bugger.

[zakes 68]

Gorilla Phlegm.

 

I gave her when it’s one,

She said it’s coming on,

Carry on, carry on

Carry on my brother John.

 

I gave her when it’s two,

She said it’s coming through,

Carry on, carry on

Carry on my brother John.

 

I gave her when it’s three,

She said it’s hurting me,

Carry on, carry on

Carry on my brother John.

 

I gave her when it’s four,

She said it’s hurting more,

Carry on, carry on

Carry on my brother John.

 

Just when he was about to start singing verse five, it suddenly occurred to Zakes he didn’t have a brother called John. In fact his elder two brothers were called something else. Zakes only knew one John, John Wastnidge who lived on the left up Birley Moor Drive. Perhaps John had a brother who could sing the other six verses of the song. He’ll ask John next week at school if he’s got a brother.

 

It was Thursday during half term in the year ’67. Zakes aged 13, had been to Frecheville shops late morning and had seen a girl full of impulse and delight. He had instantly fallen in love with her, and could hardly wait to see her again. It was just as well he was a patient person, because the next half term holidays were a long long time away.

 

Mid afternoon in the kitchen, Zakes treated himself to a chicken sandwich. The meat was most succulent, but the feathers were dry and had left a tickle in his throat. Having just switched on the kettle his dad arrived at home with a most fraught look upon his face. Wearing a suit in undertaker black, Dad Zakes had been to the funeral of one of his work mates who had suddenly died of the pox. Having brewed two cups of Lyons tea, one for himself and for his dad, Zakes decided to try and buck up his dad’s low spirits. “Dad, we all come into the world, grow up and live our lives. Then one day we are cut down like a flower to make room for the next ones coming up. We all after die or it’d be standing room only. So please don’t spot weld yourself to the settee fretting yourself to death.” On seeing his dad’s eyebrows unknotting themselves, and also detecting a slight smile, Zakes pressed on in his attempt to lighten his dad’s mood.

 

“Dad, why has a milk maid’s stool only got three legs?” asked Zakes.

“I don’t know son. Why has a milk maid’s stool only got three legs?” asked Dad Zakes.

“Because the cow’s got the udder one.” Ha-ha-ha. Laughed Zakes.

 

“Dad, what’s blue and hangs in the jungle?” asked Zakes.

“I don’t know son. What is blue and hangs in the jungle?” asked Dad Zakes.

“Tarzan in a boiler suit.” Ha-ha-ha. Laughed Zakes.

 

“Dad, what’s green and hangs in the jungle?” asked Zakes.

“I don’t know son. What is green and hangs in the jungle?” asked Dad Zakes.

“Goriulla phlegm.” Ha-ha-ha. Laughed Zakes.

 

“Dad, what did Ruth Ellis say to the hangman, when he came to execute her?” asked Zakes.

“I don’t know son. What did Ruth Ellis say to the hangman, when he came to execute her?” asked Dad Zakes.

“She said, I’ll let you have it tonight if you keep your trap shut.” Ha-ha-ha. Laughed Zakes.

 

On hearing the punch line to the forth joke Dad Zakes couldn’t contain himself and burst out into loud guffaws. This was the moment when Zakes knew he had succeeded in lifting his dad’s low spirits, but his dad did then say, “I liked that last joke son, but it’s a good job your mum didn’t hear it, because she’d have given you a thick ear.” On hearing this, the smile was instantly wiped off Zakes’ face.

 

Mum Zakes wouldn’t be home until the day after tomorrow because she’d gone to visit some friends in West London, at a place called Brentford. She always bought her clothes in Brentford including her nylons, which she got at a market stall run by a man called Alan. Alan was an Australian originally and it was rumoured he was a Freeman of a city. He also earned money as a D.J.

 

Dad Zakes loved his wife most dearly even though he was constantly under her cosh. After many years of marriage to her, it never occurred to him that wedlock is deadlock, or perhaps it tacitly did. Although Zakes loved and admired his dad, he would never have the desire to inhabit his skin, because he would be then married to a woman who had no love within her cold wooden heart.

[memari laine 10]

Does anyone on here remember Christine (nee Pearson) Shelton, Joan Greenwood, Sally Quinn, Sandra Coleman, we all left Carter Lodge in 1967.??

[zakes 68]

Zakes’s Tears Of A Clown.

 

In post 133 on this thread Memari Laine adroitly detected many of my musings are written through the tears of a clown. Since then I have received several PMs about this subject. Please let me try to clear up this matter.

 

Firstly, I am not in search of sympathy, cuddles and words of understanding etc. I wish just to explain. I certainly do wear a clowns mask when writing my somewhat embellished storyettes. I am not ashamed to admit I had some very difficult times during childhood, and my wayward ways were perhaps a form of protest against treatment I had received from 3 persons in particular. I recall very vividly the many times I drew a skinny arm across my eyes to wipe away tears that were about to run down my face. Very often fear ran through my veins like icy water, but there was nothing I could do about it but to accept it. Whenever I was in the presence of any of these 3 persons, I would always keep my tongue behind my closed teeth and remain silent in case it gave any of them the excuse to punish me. If I had done wrong I could take my punishment like any man (boy), but it always confused and angered me when I was punished when I had done nothing wrong.

 

The attempted comedy elements in my stories are actually a cover for the anger, outrage and despair I feel (felt) from all those years ago. I unashameably do admit to crying whilst piecing some of my writing together. This is often a problem because I have a very long memory and bad things come flooding back to me in minute detail.

 

I remember so well the times during the evenings in bed asking for help. I would be sat there with my eyes squeezed tightly shut, my chin resting on tented hands and I would imploringly pray to God. I would beg him to tell me which direction I was to go to reach a land where everybody always smiled and where the sun always shone. I was even prepared to go beyond the seas to a land of golden skies where everyone wore brightly coloured clothing. There were also times when I pleaded with God to come down to Earth to snap each of those 3 necks like a carrot, to relieve me of the physical and mental torture I so often faced. God never granted me any of those wishes, which made me feel that he was on their side. I was too young in those days to know or to understand what self-murder was.

 

It wasn’t all doom and gloom though, because there were lots of people who were really nice to me. There was my Dad, Mr. Wyer (Howards Bikes), Mr. Cooper (Elam’s News), lots of teachers (except one) at school, parents of schoolfriends, and also my many pals around the Hackenthorpe Estate. I cherished them all, girls and boys.

 

The 3 people who made my life a misery, giving me the feeling of a fly caught up in 3 sticky webs were:-

1. MY MOTHER.

2. Mr. Williams – teacher at Birley Spa Junior School

3. Policeman Disney – Estate bobby.

 

1. My Mother:- At times she could be cold and unimpassioned like an inarticulate iceberg, at other times she was like a flaming volcano. She never forgave me for something that happened when I was almost 5 years old, and I wasn’t to blame for it. (Explanation in a later thread called, ‘RAF childhood. Incl. Lindholme’). This born actress knew I wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone, including my Dad and my 2 brothers about her cruelty. She had me well and truly cornered.

 

2. Mr. Williams:- Birley Spa Junior School:- I have already related his treatment of me on another thread, ‘Who remembers being caned at school?’ by Paul 0726. My posts are nrs. 150, 184 and 204. Williams also terrorised 2 other classmates who may not wish to be named. They lived on Spa View and Springwater respectively. One psychological trick Williams pulled on us, was to prevent us from going on the coach on Fridays to swimming lessons at Creswell (?) baths. We 3 were kept in school with a few others who were excused swimming for whatever reason. At going home time I would go to the school toilets to wet my towel and trunks under the tap to convince my parents I had been to swimming lessons.

 

3. Policeman Disney:- Disney was another abuser of power who also took great delight in scaring me and others. He had me in court at Renishaw when I was 10, and again when I was 11 (had myself to blame). He could of let me off with a warning on both occasions, but decided instead to put me through the mangle. I’ve had thick ears from him on a few occasions, and have been dragged home by my collar. The most painful thing he did was smack me around the head with a leather glove. It felt like as if he had a marble in each finger of the glove.

 

During my childhood, my face bore an expression of goodwill to all people, and the thrill of expectancy drove me on to be a natural born adventurer. I would have moved heaven and hell for anybody I liked. I had a nice way with my pals, which went far in retaining their loyalty.

 

Later in life I didn’t ever raise my hand to my son. I am also PROUD that I have never raised my voice or hand against a female. It must be said though, that I have had to count to ten at times. Lol.

 

THE LIPS SMILE, BUT THE HEART WEEPS.

[memari laine 10]

Zakes, it's a credit to you, to have come through all that, and be the person you are now. Your son must be proud of you. Be proud of yourself too. Oh, and keep writing, you stir many memories for us all on this thread.

Best regards to you, Memari Laine.

[cuttsie 1,089]

Ken, eddie = kennedy.

played for UNITED;)

[zakes 68]

A Star Story 1966.

 

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

How I wonder what you are.

Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

 

When the blazing sun is gone,

When nothing shines upon,

Then you show your little light,

Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

 

Then the traveller in the dark,

Thanks you for your tiny spark,

He could not see which way to go,

If you did not twinkle so.

 

In the dark blue shy you keep

And often through my curtains peep,

For you never shut your eye,

‘Til the sun is in the sky.’

 

As your bright and tiny spark,

Lights the traveller in the dark.

Though I know not what you are,

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

 

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

Do you wear a padded bra?

How I wonder how soft they are,

How I wonder how big they are.

 

Half term. Fruehling 1966.

 

Larrup, larrup, whack, whack, wallop, wallop!

 

Hesperus, Mizar, Rigil, Pulsar, Vela, Procyon, Nova, Puppis, Achernar, Bellatrix, Aldebaran, Algol, Formalhaut, Betelgeuse. The 12 years old Zakes was seeing stars so often he had started to seriously consider becoming an astrologist when he was a grown up. Only yesterday he had collected the latest thrapping from his mum, adding another 5 stars to the list, namely… Castor, Sirius, Pollux, Spica and Canopus. This had made him promise to himself he would never, never ever eat another Milky Way again until the day of his decease, then he might just buy one more.

 

Yesterday’s ear bashing experience had occurred mid morning when Zakes got too close, and was caught by surprise… He had been sat upon the family’s silver Siberian sloth skin six seater settee, reading the latest issue of the Victor comic. Mum Zakes was sat by the window in her aquamarine Arabian Aardvark skin armchair reading the latest issue of the Radio Times. At the same time she was avidly chomping through the contents of a bag of Mayells mint rock. All was silent apart from the chomping, the ticking and tocking of the Grandfather clock upon the mantelpiece, and the loud desperate implorations heard over the back gardens of Mr Gittins begging his wife to stop beating him with a thick stick of red rhubarb. The silence was broken when Mum Zakes let out an ear piercing scream, then she promptly placed her left palm upon her left cheek. She had unwisely broken a wisdom tooth.

 

Zakes rushed across the lounge to his mum to offer any assistance he could to alleviate the obvious pain she was in. There was nothing he could do to help, but in his usual charming way he uttered words of advice to pacifyingly appease his mum. With clipped vowels he spoke… “Mum, be true to your teeth, or they will be false to you.” Wallop!

 

Minutes later having boiled the kettle, Mum Zakes filled a red rubber water bottle and placed it against her left cheek, then she left the house in a rush. Zakes presumed his mum was on her way to Mr. D. Hughes, the dentist who had his surgery on Birley Moor Road. Zakes hoped Mr. Hughes would be in a good mood, and would be ultra generous with his gas today.

 

Zakes had received lots of ear boxings in recent times, and he was at the end of his tether, and decided to morgue-ify his mum, by doing her in. He was sick of the sight of her flaring nostrils, and the stentorian way she spoke to him, followed by the violence. She was a woman, who would be done away with in a woman’s way…by poison.

 

Acrolein, Hemlock, Henbane, Cowbane, Ratsbane, Lindane, Tropine, Venin, Thebaine, Pictrotoxin, Hydrastine, Arsenic, Strychnine, Thallium or Cyanide. Zakes had a good think about the poison he would use, but he didn’t have the coinage to buy any of them. If he would have had the money, the shopkeepers where he would buy the stuff would ask him for his name and address, and write it down in their little black books. That way he would get caught then be arrested by the pointy heads from Occupation Lane cop shop.

 

Zakes had another good think, and when he was on the verge of thinking he might have to use a golf club or cricket bat, he came up with the perfect solution. Aflatoxin. Yes Aflatoxin would do the job.

The deviously smiling Zakes knew Aflatoxin poisoning was a slow death. He didn’t want his mum to go too quickly, because he wanted to have his meals made, bed made and his laundry laundered for another few weeks at least. He planned to administer the poison in small doses into his mum’s favourite unseasoned Burgoo soup with lots of salt and pepper. He would also mix it into the schooner of her favourite Portuguese port.

 

Where would he obtain Aflatoxin from, mused he.

 

Simple, he would go to Frecheville shops tomorrow and buy himselfa small medium sized bag of unsalted peanuts. He would then place 59 of the peanuts onto a saucer, then store them in the dark, dank garden shed stood in the back garden. After a pair of weeks a fungus will have grown on the peanuts. The fungus, that is tasteless, will attack the liver, rendering it useless. The fungus leaves no trace. The fungus is called Aflatoxin. The cause of death would be recorded as heart failure.

 

After dressing himself, Zakes left the family home and made his way to Donelon’s shop on BIrley Moor Crescent. As he walked he could hear the shiny solitary shilling jangling in his left hand trouser pocket. The shilling, Zakes had taken earlier that morning out of his mums Zambian Zebra Zkin handbag.

 

Nearing the shop, Zakes said to himself sotto voce…”I may have said I would never, never ever eat another Milky Way again, but I never, never ever said I wouldn’t eat another bar of GALAXY chocolate again,”

[cuttsie 1,089]

A Star Story 1966.

 

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

How I wonder what you are.

Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

 

When the blazing sun is gone,

When nothing shines upon,

Then you show your little light,

Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

 

Then the traveller in the dark,

Thanks you for your tiny spark,

He could not see which way to go,

If you did not twinkle so.

 

In the dark blue shy you keep

And often through my curtains peep,

For you never shut your eye,

‘Til the sun is in the sky.’

 

As your bright and tiny spark,

Lights the traveller in the dark.

Though I know not what you are,

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

 

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

Do you wear a padded bra?

How I wonder how soft they are,

How I wonder how big they are.

 

Half term. Fruehling 1966.

 

Larrup, larrup, whack, whack, wallop, wallop!

 

Hesperus, Mizar, Rigil, Pulsar, Vela, Procyon, Nova, Puppis, Achernar, Bellatrix, Aldebaran, Algol, Formalhaut, Betelgeuse. The 12 years old Zakes was seeing stars so often he had started to seriously consider becoming an astrologist when he was a grown up. Only yesterday he had collected the latest thrapping from his mum, adding another 5 stars to the list, namely… Castor, Sirius, Pollux, Spica and Canopus. This had made him promise to himself he would never, never ever eat another Milky Way again until the day of his decease, then he might just buy one more.

 

Yesterday’s ear bashing experience had occurred mid morning when Zakes got too close, and was caught by surprise… He had been sat upon the family’s silver Siberian sloth skin six seater settee, reading the latest issue of the Victor comic. Mum Zakes was sat by the window in her aquamarine Arabian Aardvark skin armchair reading the latest issue of the Radio Times. At the same time she was avidly chomping through the contents of a bag of Mayells mint rock. All was silent apart from the chomping, the ticking and tocking of the Grandfather clock upon the mantelpiece, and the loud desperate implorations heard over the back gardens of Mr Gittins begging his wife to stop beating him with a thick stick of red rhubarb. The silence was broken when Mum Zakes let out an ear piercing scream, then she promptly placed her left palm upon her left cheek. She had unwisely broken a wisdom tooth.

 

Zakes rushed across the lounge to his mum to offer any assistance he could to alleviate the obvious pain she was in. There was nothing he could do to help, but in his usual charming way he uttered words of advice to pacifyingly appease his mum. With clipped vowels he spoke… “Mum, be true to your teeth, or they will be false to you.” Wallop!

 

Minutes later having boiled the kettle, Mum Zakes filled a red rubber water bottle and placed it against her left cheek, then she left the house in a rush. Zakes presumed his mum was on her way to Mr. D. Hughes, the dentist who had his surgery on Birley Moor Road. Zakes hoped Mr. Hughes would be in a good mood, and would be ultra generous with his gas today.

 

Zakes had received lots of ear boxings in recent times, and he was at the end of his tether, and decided to morgue-ify his mum, by doing her in. He was sick of the sight of her flaring nostrils, and the stentorian way she spoke to him, followed by the violence. She was a woman, who would be done away with in a woman’s way…by poison.

 

Acrolein, Hemlock, Henbane, Cowbane, Ratsbane, Lindane, Tropine, Venin, Thebaine, Pictrotoxin, Hydrastine, Arsenic, Strychnine, Thallium or Cyanide. Zakes had a good think about the poison he would use, but he didn’t have the coinage to buy any of them. If he would have had the money, the shopkeepers where he would buy the stuff would ask him for his name and address, and write it down in their little black books. That way he would get caught then be arrested by the pointy heads from Occupation Lane cop shop.

 

Zakes had another good think, and when he was on the verge of thinking he might have to use a golf club or cricket bat, he came up with the perfect solution. Aflatoxin. Yes Aflatoxin would do the job.

The deviously smiling Zakes knew Aflatoxin poisoning was a slow death. He didn’t want his mum to go too quickly, because he wanted to have his meals made, bed made and his laundry laundered for another few weeks at least. He planned to administer the poison in small doses into his mum’s favourite unseasoned Burgoo soup with lots of salt and pepper. He would also mix it into the schooner of her favourite Portuguese port.

 

Where would he obtain Aflatoxin from, mused he.

 

Simple, he would go to Frecheville shops tomorrow and buy himselfa small medium sized bag of unsalted peanuts. He would then place 59 of the peanuts onto a saucer, then store them in the dark, dank garden shed stood in the back garden. After a pair of weeks a fungus will have grown on the peanuts. The fungus, that is tasteless, will attack the liver, rendering it useless. The fungus leaves no trace. The fungus is called Aflatoxin. The cause of death would be recorded as heart failure.

 

After dressing himself, Zakes left the family home and made his way to Donelon’s shop on BIrley Moor Crescent. As he walked he could hear the shiny solitary shilling jangling in his left hand trouser pocket. The shilling, Zakes had taken earlier that morning out of his mums Zambian Zebra Zkin handbag.

 

Nearing the shop, Zakes said to himself sotto voce…”I may have said I would never, never ever eat another Milky Way again, but I never, never ever said I wouldn’t eat another bar of GALAXY chocolate again,”

A million Sheffielders are as we speak! storing peenuts in their secret sheds.

There will be a BOUNTY on your head Zakerious.

[zakes 68]

Halcyon days in Hackenthorpe Early 60’s Pt 1 of 1.

 

Zakes liked to ‘borrow’ his biggest brother’s 26 inch wheeled red bike now and again. He also liked now and again to swap some of his biggest brother’s togger programmes with any given pal of the day, in exchange for birds eggs, comics, conkers or banana chews.

 

Regardless of weather, Zakes now and again liked to venture out alone, on his own by himself in solid solitary solitude. He gently ambled at a leisurely pace in the surrounding areas on the edges of Hackenthorpe, intent on avoiding houses and persons. He would stroll light of foot across the landscape to exotic places like… The wonderful wild fields near the sub station where Dyke Vale Road came to an end, and petered out to become a tramping track trail. Sometimes Zakes would go along the jennel at the bottom of Carter Lodge Rise, and gleefully tread down the well worn earthly path through the cornfields that were gold in colour when the sun shone, to arrive at the concrete bridge that spanned the Shirebrook River. He sometimes continued and would go all the way up Sally Hill if she let him, but she’d have to be in a good mood on that day.

 

Zakes with cheeky smile, also liked to pass by the Village School near’t Village Green, then make his way down Brook Lane to Cans (Cams, Canns, Kens, depending on which part of Hackenthorpe you came frum) Bottom, which led down to the delightful aromatic Bluebell Woods. At times Zakes would go through Drakehouse admiringly admiring the fields, farms, bungalows and Hawthorn hedgerows and the distant countryside whilst lost in his thoughts. The walk up the hill to the riding school at Mos’boro Top, firstly passing the big house with the cannons on the wall was also a place he would reach from time to time, now and again.

 

On almost all the occasions when Zakes went awalking, he would take with him a pocket sized transistor radio, which had a light brown leather protective casing around it. The casing had a strap attached which was also brown in colour, where Zakes would put his left hand through, then he’d hold the transistor radio to his left luggie. The transistor radio was also ‘borrowed’ from his biggest brother. During his walks, Zakes would switch on and listen to songs like…

 

My boy lollipop

Downtown

Long live love

Kon-tiki

Oh no cott my baby

Needles and pins

Terry

I only want to be with you

I like it

Get off my cloud

5-4-3-2-1

My ship Is coming in

Please please me

You really cott me

I think of you

Hard-ie days night

You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling

Ticket to ride

Just one look

If you cotta make a fool of somebody

He’s in town

California girls

Telstar

Make it easy on yourself

The last time

What’s new pussycat

Look through any window

Go now

Can’t buy me love

I cott you babe

Memari-es are made of this

Apache

Baby please don’t go

Hubble bubble

It’s good news week

Eve of destruction

In the middle of nowhere

Juliet

Mr. Tambourine man

I’m into something good

I just don’t know what to do with myself

The carnival is over

Till the end of the day

Someday we’re gonna love again

Cott my mojo working

Here I go again

Not fade away

I want to hold your hand

Tell me when

Have I the right

I get around

Message understood

Don’t let the sun catch you crying

I feel fine…

 

Zakes was enjoying the groovy music, then the bleedin’ batteries ran out. SODDIN’ ‘ECK!!

[memari laine 10]

Great list of songs Zakes. I listen to "Magic radio", they play all those songs, and boy, do they take me back!! As i was reading your latest post, Twinkle was on, singing "Terry". I enjoyed your walk around the old haunts, it was like being there, knew every step you were taking.

[COTTY 10]

Halcyon days in Hackenthorpe Early 60’s Pt 1 of 1.

 

Zakes liked to ‘borrow’ his biggest brother’s 26 inch wheeled red bike now and again. He also liked now and again to swap some of his biggest brother’s togger programmes with any given pal of the day, in exchange for birds eggs, comics, conkers or banana chews.

 

Regardless of weather, Zakes now and again liked to venture out alone, on his own by himself in solid solitary solitude. He gently ambled at a leisurely pace in the surrounding areas on the edges of Hackenthorpe, intent on avoiding houses and persons. He would stroll light of foot across the landscape to exotic places like… The wonderful wild fields near the sub station where Dyke Vale Road came to an end, and petered out to become a tramping track trail. Sometimes Zakes would go along the jennel at the bottom of Carter Lodge Rise, and gleefully tread down the well worn earthly path through the cornfields that were gold in colour when the sun shone, to arrive at the concrete bridge that spanned the Shirebrook River. He sometimes continued and would go all the way up Sally Hill if she let him, but she’d have to be in a good mood on that day.

 

Zakes with cheeky smile, also liked to pass by the Village School near’t Village Green, then make his way down Brook Lane to Cans (Cams, Canns, Kens, depending on which part of Hackenthorpe you came frum) Bottom, which led down to the delightful aromatic Bluebell Woods. At times Zakes would go through Drakehouse admiringly admiring the fields, farms, bungalows and Hawthorn hedgerows and the distant countryside whilst lost in his thoughts. The walk up the hill to the riding school at Mos’boro Top, firstly passing the big house with the cannons on the wall was also a place he would reach from time to time, now and again.

 

On almost all the occasions when Zakes went awalking, he would take with him a pocket sized transistor radio, which had a light brown leather protective casing around it. The casing had a strap attached which was also brown in colour, where Zakes would put his left hand through, then he’d hold the transistor radio to his left luggie. The transistor radio was also ‘borrowed’ from his biggest brother. During his walks, Zakes would switch on and listen to songs like…

 

My boy lollipop

Downtown

Long live love

Kon-tiki

Oh no cott my baby

Needles and pins

Terry

I only want to be with you

I like it

Get off my cloud

5-4-3-2-1

My ship Is coming in

Please please me

You really cott me

I think of you

Hard-ie days night

You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling

Ticket to ride

Just one look

If you cotta make a fool of somebody

He’s in town

California girls

Telstar

Make it easy on yourself

The last time

What’s new pussycat

Look through any window

Go now

Can’t buy me love

I cott you babe

Memari-es are made of this

Apache

Baby please don’t go

Hubble bubble

It’s good news week

Eve of destruction

In the middle of nowhere

Juliet

Mr. Tambourine man

I’m into something good

I just don’t know what to do with myself

The carnival is over

Till the end of the day

Someday we’re gonna love again

Cott my mojo working

Here I go again

Not fade away

I want to hold your hand

Tell me when

Have I the right

I get around

Message understood

Don’t let the sun catch you crying

I feel fine…

 

Zakes was enjoying the groovy music, then the bleedin’ batteries ran out. SODDIN’ ‘ECK!!

 

Great songs - all of them (are the many 'Cott' references in my honor of just a coincidence I wonder). LOL I remember my little trannie (don't think I can call it that nowadays) I loved listening to it in bed at night. I well understand the praying in bed that someone would go away/die/get killed. How horrible to think like that but we too had a tormentor in our family (my elder brother) who terrorised us all. Not a happy time. Although I loved a lot of my childhood that is one thing I would not like to re-live. Keep writing Zakes - love to read your memories. xx:)