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
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?!”
Earlier today I published a narrative bequeathing it's discerning reader unreliable anecdotes from my junior high schooldays. These notions manifesting from the depths of my capricious mind; embellished by fictional addendums sourced from a neurological chamber with a door titled 'Random'. Breckenbeds Junior High on Saltwell Road in south Gateshead the subject of that ramble. … Continue reading Breckenbeds Fields Forever?
Within the past few days I've shared a trilogy of narratives (Lunchtime Lounging At The Griddle, …. And The Teachers Get The Money! & Duck!!) regarding whimsical, partly fictional, recollections of the Gateshead senior high school I attended between 1977-79. This education establishment, which became victim to the wrecking ball a couple of decades ago, going by … Continue reading Breckers Aren’t Useless
The Gateshead senior high school where I was educated was demolished a couple of decades ago. I'm assured it's nothing to do with my attendance there and the hate mail's abated, but the self-doubt still lingers. The school's penchant for turning out top level professional footballers, a world renowned orchestra leader and an international rugby … Continue reading Lunchtime Lounging At The Griddle
Ordinarily, these days I don't normally over-indulge with the New Years Eve celebrations. A situation very different to my parents during my formative years, when my family welcomed the dawn of a new year with gusto. Gusto was a German guy who lived on Cromer Avenue. As I recall, he was affable of nature; however his … Continue reading 1970’s Hogmanays at Chez Strachan
For the first time since childhood, this morning I'd cause to utilise Germolene antiseptic cream. I'll openly admit it not the most interesting minutiae you'll hear today. However, I felt moved to mention undertaking the act as, with it's distinctive aroma, exposure to this germ battling lotion evoked memories of my fledgling years. On suffering … Continue reading Fire Up The DeLorean, Marty!