Originally Posted by
Alf Tupper
Some of us old uns have gone on about the good old days, when we were kids and the world was innocent. Well, here I go again. For those over 50 – a taste of nostalgia, for under – turn to the next page.
Do you remember when kids were not allowed in pubs? We could go in the pub garden if there was one. Children weren’t allowed in pubs because people went to the pub to smoke, drink, have the occasional fight and avoid their wives. The very thought of a child in a pub was disgusting, let alone special pubs for children with ‘activity rooms, baby changing facilities, and a children’s menu.
Then there was going to the beach.
Your parents (for any Portsmouth kids reading, that’s your mum and a man she once met. For any children of transgenders/gays/ civil ceremonies or whatever, just look at some old photographs, I’m not going there). We would go to Calshot or Lepe mostly. You’d have to get changed under an old towel and you could wander off all day without an air and sea rescue mission being launched. It was before health and safety barriers were put up and the Paedo obsessed patrols marched up and down the beach looking for a man to set fire to. At some point you would return, covered in sea weed and tar and eat sarnies brought from home and drink Tizer. Then you would go home again, with a pocket full of stones and shells.
Or you would go to the park, with the dog. The park had grass and a swing and if you fell off, you became the proud owner of a scar. No one molested you; you were not offered Special Brew or heroin or converted to Islam. You would have to dodge the dog**** (which was white) and it was socially acceptable to climb trees and throw conkers at girls. In fact you were allowed to play conkers and the girls played hop scotch or something.
Back home Mum would buy flour, eggs, milk, butter and sugar and make a cake. That required mixing it all in a bowl and if you didn't seriously **** your mum off, you got to lick out the bowl. By magic, about an hour later, a cake had appeared and you could eat it in front of a black and white television watching cartoons that consisted of Tom and Jerry, Popeye and Huckleberry Hound. Live action was Sea Hunt, Whirlybirds, the Lone Ranger and Ivanhoe. And at dinner you ate what was on your plate. All of it. Or you got a clout from the old man.
Books, comics (The Eagle), bird watching and playing with bonfires. These were things you did when there was nothing on the telly (yes it closed down every afternoon). We made bows and arrows, trollies (soapbox carts). Finding a discarded pram was a dream - rip off the axles, few bits of wood and nails and we’d race down the hills when having a race wasn't seen as being politically incorrect. Speaking of which we collected Robinsons jam golliwog stickers. In the hot summers we would collect grasshoppers and burn ants with a magnifying glass and drink triangle jublees that took hours to drink. We built rafts on the river near Mansbridge using wood and five gallon cans that always seemed to be available.
Happy days
The good old days - old timer goes off on one again
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If you think about the crowds at the Dell in the 60s most were male and most wore grey trousers, grey / navy jumpers, grey cloth caps...... (or was it only my Dad 
). Cars were mainly black. I just remember depressing drab in the main 
)
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