Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Yesterday in Friday Nights On The Fell I wrote of the Low Fell pub route mates and I undertook on Friday evenings in the early 1980's. Within this journal, relaying the order of service (at the bar, not from the pulpit) and some of the characters with whom I socialised back then. Admittedly, this meander on foot was... Continue Reading →
In the early 1980's, when I was in my late teens/early twenties, Friday night drinking ordinarily took place with mates in Low Fell's fine drinking establishments. Saturdays normally in the company of my partner in the centre of Newcastle. Although none of our group suffered from OCD, a habitual itinerary of public house patronising was... Continue Reading →
As much as social media can unearth the ill-thought out rantings of the negative, confrontational, uninformed and those bereft of humanity (and that's just me!!), there's numerous examples of it also forming a platform for good. A greatly uplifting medium that provides a catalyst to situations manifesting positive user benefits. For instance, over the past 2-3... Continue Reading →
June 1977 - Two months before Elvis passed, Red Rum had just won the Grand National for the third time, Star Wars was breaking all box-office records and the UK's populous held street parties celebrating Queen Elizabeth II's silver jubilee. One such street party took place in Dorchester Gardens, Low Fell. The south Gateshead cul-de-sac... Continue Reading →
I learned many useful life lessons as a child growing up in Low Fell, Gateshead. Amongst them was when it came to playing table football games my brother Ian was a flaming cheat. Our kid will have his own version of these events, but will never convince me he flicked the small plastic player to... Continue Reading →
A 1970's trip to the Low Fell Classic cinema always produced a few childhood hours to savour. Situated about 50 yards from Cranstons jewellery shop and Reeds confectioners on the western side of Durham Road, this small three screened movie theatre wasn't as sartorially impressive as, say, the Newcastle Odeon or the Newcastle Theatre Royal.... Continue Reading →
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 →
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 →
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 →