13.07.07
Uh-oh. She’s on the cheap red again …
Indulge me. I’m suffering the nostalgia bug once more tonight. Whilst the 21st century has certain undeniable advantages (I was in the newsagents today getting the Grauniad and noticed that one can now buy a tube of Fruit Pastilles that are all blackcurrant ones! Oh, joy!), there are many things I miss like all hell.
Such as …
Letters. Proper letters, in ink and everything.
Postcards, however long they took to arrive.
Interesting cars that weren’t all designed by the same committee of aesthetic sheep.
Being able to pop into Manchester of an evening to go to Central Library and park right outside the door. For nothing.
Buses run as an essential public service and not for a profit. You used to know you were in Manchester because of the orange buses.
Anything that used to be run as an essential public service which is now run for a profit.
Phone boxes with actual paper directories in them (okay, maybe I’m imagining that one).
Three TV channels. If there was nothing on the box, then you had to do something more constructive.
Football matches (domestic or international) where the advertisement hoardings pitchside were for companies you’d never heard of.
Footballers being valued for their skills rather than their offensively opulent lifestyles.
Bazooka Joe bubble gum.
Deposits on glass bottles of fizzy pop (BTW, they still do this in Denmark. Why don’t we? Hmmm?).
Greasy spoon cafes and, similarly, transport caffs at motorway services.
Nicely grotty pubs with cheap beer, no piped music and handy obscured glass in the windows.
Pools winners.
Tiswas.
Novelty singles (esp. at Christmas).
Everyone you knew being on the dole/a student and no one minding because you were all in the same boat.
Making one’s own entertainment.
Snow.
For that matter, sunshine. Have you seen it out there today?
Cider ice-lollies.
Grown-up politicians.
Supermarkets selling food and drink. Just food and drink.
Monopoly and Scrabble played on a physical surface rather than a screen.
Using a bus/train journey to have a quiet think.
Teenagers having less disposable income and fewer consumer durables than adults.
The dodgy all-night curry house on Great Western Street in Rusholme.
Newspapers that weren’t masquerading as upmarket lifestyle magazines.
Manchester being (a) much scruffier and (b) feeling much friendlier.
Holts Bitter at £1.00 a pint.
While we’re on the question of beer, pubs that sell mild.
Live music in pubs.
Speaking to real people on the phone when contacting large companies.
Knowing (and crossing the road to avoid) your bank manager.
Vintage clothes shops that sold stuff made before 1970.
Flea markets.
Trains with little compartments.
Pubs with separate rooms.
(By the way, if you’ve read this far and don’t know me, you shouldn’t have too much difficulty in guessing my age by now.)
Playing scratch cricket in the street with six other kids, someone’s dad, your big sister’s boyfriend and the occasional giggling mother until it went dark.
Seeing the Milky Way, even in an urban area.
Blackpool, before it tried to become posh.
Fish-paste butties.
Warner Brothers cartoons on a Saturday morning.
Shops that closed occasionally.
Cars capable of being maintained by a reasonably competent human being.
Punk.
Creativity as opposed to brand addiction.
Cod and chips being the cheapest option when one fancied a takeaway.
Buggerin’ ‘ell, but I am becoming Grumpy Old Woman! Maybe I should concentrate on a brighter future instead?!
I may at some point post an entry concerning “New Things That Are Spiffingly Good”, but I’d have to think about that one. For quite a while, in fact. (Although the Fruit Pastilles thing is pretty cool.)
Blogs are good, mind you. Especially the ones in the blogroll to your right.