Symptoms

Orl - I got your message OK and have replied ... so check your messages.

Orl - send me a personal message (via the Forum's Personal Message service in your account area) for a swap of details; confidentiality assured.

They did seem to be more innocent (or less cynical) times, perhaps less envy and in a true community sense an 'all in it together' attitude exhibited because they had little (by comparison to today) disposable income. Folks would be more open to sharing and supportive of each other because of the fairly static populations ... extended family groups, old established friendship groups (work & neighbours). I'm sure that I'm not looking back through rose-tinted specs; it was hard but I also have fond memories too. I remember my old Mum saying that when she got married to my Dad (1950) his wage was £5 per week and by the Thursday night (paid on Friday) she only had a penny or two left in her purse. In the early to mid 60s my total pocket money was 2 shillings & 6 pence (2/6d or half-a-dollar) ... made up of 1/6d from parents, 6d from my Grandad and 6d from my Uncle. Obviously when a bit older this was supplemented with potatoe picking dosh, newspaper round, un-used bus fares, pocketed school diner money. What did others get for their pocket money?

foxy - be careful at the traffic lights.

I was only in Bacci's billiard hall (I'm sure it was known as that and not a snooker hall) a couple of times as I probably wasn't 'old' enough to be a regular. I do remember that the place had a certain cache for being where the 'faces' or the tough lads hung out and was always being warned by my old man to stay clear. Wasn't the billiard hall upstairs via a rickety staircase??? Didn't he have another cafe at the Station - on the corner just along from the level-crossing; we used to go in there to play the pin-ball machines.

Symptoms, Keith and then Malcolm ... all suffering memory loss - too much time spent here perhaps. Yep, it was Jimmy Millne (I suppose the Eddie Milne name was just lodged in front of the mushy bit of my brain). I'm glad I correctly remembered that it was his former home; we used to raid his orchard at the rear gaining access via a lane (or it might have been an archway) maybe where that Co-op funeral place is ... Dowson's Buildings or was that on Hartford Rd? Fond memories of his department store in the Market Place where just about anything could be bought: leather soles & heals, taps for boots, catapult elastic, stink bombs, and of course the Record Dept where you could listen to the singles before purchase (I think he had headphones or maybe it was a couple of booths) ... I still have a few of these records.

Since I had my bot spanked by GGG regarding the true picture of the provision of pit-head baths I decided to do a bit of research on the subject. Actually, there's a ton of published information, including Government stuff, info from heritage sources (such as pit museums), NCB Regional data, and so on. The picture did vary nationwide but the general position was that up until Nationalisation only about a third of the mines had pithead baths; Yorkshire, in 1946, was one of the 'better' areas with 65 (out of a total of 149) pits with baths. Even with the recommendations of a couple of Royal Commissions (1907 & 1919), the Coal Mines Act (1911) only said that baths were to be provided where the employees wanted them. In 1924 the provision of baths became compulsory but the colliery companies dragged their feet. The cost of installing baths was met by the Miners' Welfare Fund (supported by a 1d levy per ton of coal), a contribution from the companies, plus a weekly contribution deducted from each miners wage packet … lots of miners thought it unfair that their pay was being docked to improve the Coal Owners property. Anyway, pithead bath building programme was stopped during WW2 … then we had Nationalisation. Ah, the bright, new future! Even after Nationalisation some pits never got baths – these were the older ones where judgements were made about the economic viability of sticking baths into pits coming to the end of their production. On the question of folks getting bathrooms retro-fitted into their houses when did the Pit Rows at the Doctor Pit have theirs put in by the NCB or earlier by the coal company? Of course, the massive Council house building programmes of the inter-war years, as well as the rather nice semi-detached stuff going up during this time, included bathrooms, but how urgently did the private landlords (including the coal owners) do this work?

Yep, memory playing tricks! So I've just wandered down Front St on Google's Streetview to position stuff, funny how I thought the Post Office was lower down and was suprised to discover the Grapes as far down as it is ... I remembered it being higher up and had completely forgotten that the Blue Bell was there. I reckon the Top Club (the 'new' one) might have been Eddie Milne's house back in the day ... ??? or have I got that wrong as well?

Yep ... that's the Post Office I remember. Are folks in Bedders still driving Mk2 Capris & Ladas (or Polanski Fiats) and renting their tellies from Rediffusion. Good to see the girlies being able to their latest stuff from Phillip Green's TopShop.

We could see the Colonels back!

Where's the Post Office? The one I remember is near the Market Place.

I thought the Top Club burned down at the end of the 60s - where's the one you're on about?

3Bs - super 8 was for Southern softies and assorted Bullingdon types, give me standard 8 anytime.

3Gs - I spit on VHS ... Betamax for me!!!

I'm planning a visit to Blighty sometime this year and intend to swing-by Bedders for a couple (or more) of pints; obviously there'll be no drink driving! So I'm looking for recommendations for a decent place to stay and 'sleep it off'. I did the usual thing by Googling "hotels in Bedlington" ... no real choice in the town but plenty beyond, Morpeth for example. I'd like somewhere within the town. Back in the day I remember some of the pubs took guests - they were true inns, are there any left? I like my comforts, decent grub, good atmosphere, friendly staff, so your help is needed with recommendations. Thanks in advance.

3Bs - yep, that lot from Alnwick are just the same ... the only difference between them and us is that their ancestors had bigger swords than ours. All the inbred toffs are the same ... land grabs, evictions, droit du seigneur, protection racket with the Church, bleeding the poor, and so on; this all morphed eventually into the Tory ruling elite. Yep, when you strip it all away that's at the heart of the Bullingdon crew.

BBB - that sounds a bit like that money-making racket going on in the South West ... but let's call the one up here the Duchy of Cornwall Bedders. We could have a boss who'd trouser all the rip-off profits, who'd lean on planners to approve legoland houses everywhere (oh, and charge huge rents), trampling over everyones gardens on horseback in pursuit of our very own foxy, bestowing the dubious honour on a local to wipe his !*!@# (they be queuing-up for the privilages ... fools), growing cereals as far as the eye can see then milling/processing the stuff to produce Charlie Pee Porter (£6 a pint).

Brian ... Yep, I'm all for letting the convicts have their republic but please, please, please I crave one here! What a jape it would be if the German succession ended via an Argy missile and the House of Hewitt began with King Harry ... what a laugh.

I thought he'd get away with it. I imagined the scene: Cameron picks up the phone and tells the big cheese at the DPP to back-off. But no, I was wrong! Maybe, Cameron will pickup the phone and tell the judge to let Hoooney go so that he can bother Cleggggy from the back benches.

She used to say: " What a bunch of blood-suckers they are." This happened whenever Betty Windsor, Phil the Greek, or their useless brats ever appeared on the telly. A wise woman!

Ok, Ok ... The poor mis-guided beige brigades of Middle England have continuously swallowed the guff perpetrated by that family of German con artists and their protectors. The sickening sight of the foolish masses with their easy-stretch trousers and cheap haircuts, wildly waving their banners and bunting, clutching their rolled-up copies of the hateful Daily Mail bowing and scraping to the wasters turns my stomach. What a complete waste of resources the lot of them are. I could go on for pages and pages but I think you get my drift. Do you want pages and pages more? Ah, to think back to all the good works done that glorious July night in Yekaterinburg.

But was it really Monsta or part of the advance guard of Merlin and Monsta's deliverers?

Adam mentioned Phil the Greek, half of that well known comedy double act. The half that started out as 'Uncle' Dickie's cabin-boy (yep, you know what I mean) during that big bunfight 70 years ago, the half that partied with Astor, Profumo, Christine & Mandy (and smudged without a head), the half that has been continuing to insult just about everybody up to the present time, the Daddy of that collection of scrounging, useless brats, the Grandaddy of balding Billy just sent down to the South Atlantic (of course Ginger Harry ain't blood related to Phil some would say).

I have it on good authority that it was where Merlin and Monsta were taken for 'examination' ... both were returned to their friends in Bedders but only Merlin has recovered enough to lodge a post here; Monsta is taking more time to recover from the deep probing but I'm sure he'll be here when better.

Malcolm - you missed the most important item from your 'dog list' ... I love him dearly and will do anything to make his life a happy and contented one. I say let dog lovers rule the world. Oh, and on the Maggie thing - I have my message already to go when the evil bitch dies in agony: REJOICE, REJOICE, REJOICE.