Balaclava Days in NE9

In numerous previous literary offerings I've written whimsically of northern English summers past. In particular the mid to late 1970's, years when meteorological gods bequeathed us Brits almost unbroken sunshine during the warm season. Helius and Zeus working in conjunction with Karma to recompense the UK proletariat for 1974's power cuts and 1976's Great Spangle … Continue reading Balaclava Days in NE9

Mr Davidson’s Surgery

Recollections of 1970's dental appointments bring to mind thoughts of oral torture chambers infused with odours of stale gas anaesthesia and the flatulence of nervous patients. Visits in which you'd open your mouth for treatment which'd be closely followed by a pain induced "Aaaaarrrrggghhh" - As opposed to the much calmer "Ah" associated with GP … Continue reading Mr Davidson’s Surgery

“Turkey Salad with Mayo Again?!”

Last week I wrote a narrative containing untrustworthy recollections from my senior high schooldays in Low Fell, Gateshead. Within those memories I touched upon a sandwich shop called The Griddle - During my schooldays a 'go to' source for midday refreshment. In the 1970s/80s, this Durham Road deli was heavily patronised by Heathfield Senior High … Continue reading “Turkey Salad with Mayo Again?!”

Barbershop Strop

These days having a hair cut is a fairly straight forward experience. On arrival, I'll sit in the barbershop waiting area until it's my turn to don a gown to protect against discarded hair. Once in the chair I'll relay the style of cut I desire, receive the aforementioned cut, pay and leave the premises. … Continue reading Barbershop Strop

The Saving Mr Banks

It's Tuesday morning and GJ Strachan is suffering from a severe case of writers block. Annoyingly, the ordinarily creative segment of my brain currently bereft of an inspirational epiphany or notion. Even the memories of my Gateshead childhood, which have proved so fertile in the past week, thus far unable to produce a narrative topic … Continue reading The Saving Mr Banks

Schooldays Beside The Old Oak Field

"Who wants a game of Japs and Commandos?.... Who wants a game of Japs and Commandos?" A schoolyard enquiry frequently heard at Oakfield Junior School during my fledgling education years of 1968-1974. A chant ordinarily started at breaktime by a small number of boys intent on attracting recruits for their game. A query made by … Continue reading Schooldays Beside The Old Oak Field

Q

During the half century I've resided on this dysfunctional planet I've been confronted by numerous intriguing life questions. Among them an irritational compulsion to unearth what the Q stood for in the name of my childhood optician JQ Summers. The affable Scotsman who practised his ophthalmic trade in a shop opposite the Cannon pub on … Continue reading Q