Symptoms

I had my very first pint in the Railway (under-age drinking!) - Vaux Gold Tankard, this was in the lounge bar. I clearly remember what a horrible taste it had (soap) and wondered what all the fuss was about ... this drinking lark. Anyway, it had to be toughed-out in front of my mates and a life-long taste for beer was developed; Exhibition when in a 'Blue Star' pub but I always relished a drop of Fed when in the Market Place Club ... again, all under-age drinking. Left when I was 18 be be a student in London and the first night down there went into the student union bar and was presented with taps of Cockney bilge (Watney's and the like) until I spotted on the shelf behind the bar rows of Newcastle Brown and Newcastle Amber .... bliss!

62 - 67

Yep, I remember it well ... wasn't the shop called Adamson's? I was a Woodbine man (boy!!) but when flush with funds would buy a packet of 5 snouts - skinny little version of the full-size pack complete with all the same packet graphics. Our smokers' corner was behind the PE store, a hut sited beyond the Youth Centre on the track towards the Catha school (PC apology ... but that's what we called it back in the day); Danny usually couldn't creep-up on us 'cos we had good sight lines, however one day he came up on us from behind, from the direction of the Catha school, and bagged us all. He made us chuck all our supplies on the ground and "dance" on them. Another wheeze was crowding (with 1st year kids) the travelling shop when it arrived at breaktime then us big lads would nick packets of biscuits off the racks; the bloke never spotted us. I've loved chocolate digestives to this day!

Canny - that discription of the fella is spot on and the name Grainger rings a bell. He would line us up for a beating and swish & wobble the sandshoe to illustrate it's flexability (to put the 'the frighteners' on us) then lay into our arses. Yep, happy days.

Oh, and Geordie Hemmings used to use a barber's strop (leather) to beat the boys with ... belting on the !*!@# conducted in the medical inspection room (located next to the main doors). Taffy Williams (Metalwork teacher) would clip us with a steel ruler and a Geography teacher (name gone!) used an enormous white sand shoe (for our younger viewers what you would now call a Converse Allstar but sand shoes were a cheap, thin version).

alanc wrote: "... Stand on the red square boy bend over and you got 3 of the best with the cricket bat." Alan, during my time at Westridge (62-67) Danny Douglas used "The Wacker" - see below the posting I left here in Nov 2008: .......................................................... "Ah, 'Danny' Douglas (real name Bill) and The Wacker. Remember, if you were naughty or didn't do the homework or didn't answer the question fast enough, he would shout "You boy, out the front and stand on the red square". For some reason there was this single red vinyl square in a sea of grey ones just in front of the blackboard where you had to bend over for whacking on the !*!@# . Hanging by a string from a hook beside the blackboard would be The Wacker (a section of butter barrel); Danny would take it down, chalk a white cross on the end of it and beat you on the !*!@# . The funny thing was that there were always loads of lads wandering around the school white chalk imprints on their grey trousers. I once got sent by Mr Hogg (the Physics teacher whose lab was next to Danny's room) to borrow The Whacker so Mr Hogg could beat somebody, I knocked on the door and went in, before I could say anything Danny said "Stand on the red square for interrupting my lesson" and I got whacked. He also used to take football training in the evenings for the Youth Club. A great bloke! Happy Days."

Brettly wrote: "Going to take the dogs out for a walk as the poor little buggers are looking sorry for themselves for being cooked up quite a bit over the past 2 days. I will post a picture or two when I get the chance." I can't wait to see the snaps of the mutts ...

Has anybody else noticed how similar these two are? Just compare the male-pattern baldness, the horse faces, big teeth ... yep, twins I reckon. The Norwegian, Anders Behring Breivik, was reported to have links with an extreme right-wing UK-based group ... maybe they have several 'safe houses' in a number of castles throughout the UK.

Barton wrote - "It would take three pails to bank the fire up for the night, plus two pails for a late top up." I remember the term "bank the fire up for the night" or "banking-up"; Yep, my Mum would top-up the coal then ash from below the grate was piled on to form a sort of crust over coals... presumably to the slow the burn down (lack of oxygen maybe). Hey presto ... a rattle with the poker in the morning and away the fire would catch. Back boilers to heat the water - not those namby-pamby so called back-boilers found in central heating systems. Good old technology ... cast iron box in the back of the fireplace, flick of the chimney damper, flames wizz up the back of the fireplace and around the back boiler.

I can't remember if St Cuthberts is CofE or one of those other dodgy Prot sects? But isn't the Verger the guy who's meant to look after the upkeep? If not then I suggest herding the Sunday crowd out to tidy the place up. Maybe even start a rumour that Songs of Praise are coming ... that'll soon get a rubber-necking crowd in for their 15 minutes of fame; this lot could then be driven out to tidy up. I'll not have a thing said against Conservation Areas ... they keep the scum-sucking Tory property developers under a degree of control from knocking all the period houses down and felling all the beautiful trees.

Aghhhh ... not the Taxpayers' Alliance! A vile place accurately described as a nest of scum-sucking Tories.

I remember my old Uncle calling, what you referred to as "fuse wire", cap wire. You often used to come across lengths of it in a load of coal delivered to the houses ... clearly, the long runs being severed into bits by the blast and being mixed-up with the coal. The same Uncle, when on a shift break down the pit, would chop bundles of sticks (for fire lighting purposes back home) from wooden pit props; these he bound together with the cap wire. He used to keep the extended family well stocked with sticks.

Merlin wrote: "COWS Is it just me, or does anyone else find it amazing that, during the mad cow epidemic, our government could track a single cow, born almost three years ago in Appleby, right to the stall where she slept in the county of Cumbria ? And,they even tracked her calves to their individual stalls.. But they are unable to locate 125,000 illegal immigrants wandering around our country. Maybe we should give each illegal immigrant a cow." Of course the tracking was easy ... each moo had a yellow plakka tag crimped into each lug. These tags have unique ID numbers so that ALL moo movements and locations were logged. Clearly the round-up and subsequent barbie was a cinch to complete. Perhaps we can develop Merlin's suggestion a little further, rather than give each "illegal immigrant" a moo each, why not grab them and tag them in the same way. The cost of the tags versus the cost a moo each, coupled with the inflicting of lug pain during tag crimping would go down well in the Hallways of the Right. I suppose it'll save the cops (and other agents of the State) from demanding (in a German accent) ... "Your papers please!". They'd simply have to hold the person down and check the code number before hauling them off to gaol.

I've said it before here about that disgraceful extended family of blood-suckers ... Oh, for the good old days in downtown Yekaterinburg.

Newcastle Lane??? Is this the old name for Hartford Road East then running into Hartford Road? If so, I remember 3 farms along there in the 60s: The first was located between Nether Riggs and Elm Drive ... a small market-garden/smallholding type of place. We used to get sent as kids to buy eggs and paraffin. The next one along Hartford Road was on the right-hand side (opposite to where the golf club is now) ... I think it was called Lane Farm (but memory does play tricks) but I can't remember any glasshouses in the 60s. The next one along on the right was Ewart's, or something like that. There was also an old farm house (a red brick thing) near the weir on the river at Acorn Bank. I seem to remember it standing in a wheat field just south of Costain's open-cast site. Not to do with the OP's question, but there was also a small farm down the bottom end of Front Street - located on the right-hand side past Vulcan Place and the Church. Patterson's rings a bell.

Oh, for the good old days in downtown Yekaterinburg.

Ronnie - here's a picture of him 'snipped' from an old school photo ...

Ronnie - I was friendly with a lad called Michael (known as Micky) Routledge in the 60s; he'd be about 59ish now. He lived in the Westlea area.

Keith - I think you might be correct with that memory. I was briefly pals with the publican's son (can't think of his name at the moment) when they had the pub on Glebe Rd and they did take-over the Railway down at Bedlington Station. Mid to late 60s. The pub on Glebe I recall was painted a dark green colour and had lots of painted wood panelling (more green) inside ... I'm pretty sure about the colour or it could have been the effects of dodgy weed. Weed wasn't that commonly available in Bedders then and most that did get in was well past it's use by date

Yep ... the Fifa Executives were obviously plied with much higher-class call girls than Bill Windsor could supply; probably trafficked by all those Russian gangsters in government. I reckon we're better off without it.

Dajazar wrote - "This poses some very profound questions but of course like any other "gentlemans club" there is usually a lot of eating, drinking and amusement to be had outside of the scrutiny of wives and girlfriends. The social scene is very enjoyable though, especially the Ladies Nights." maybe similar to that famous Gentlemans' Club from the Sopranos...

Dajazar – I was suprised to read in your earlier post that the Koran and other holy books are used during ceremonies ... does this imply that Muslims, Jews, Black and Asian people would be welcome in your UK Lodges? Monsta® - The Bullingdon Club could be defined using similar standards to those on your list. Is the Masonic Hall at the top of Hartford Road still there?

A little application of Sharia Law ... snip off their index fingers with a pair of secateurs. You know it makes sense.

Oh, no! Not broken glass on 20 acres! That hallowed ground, that place dreams were enacted (jumpers for goals and banging-in a hat rick for the Toon), learning to ride a bike around the perimeter path, and of course the glorious shows on Picnic Day. Yep, there was dog !*!@# back in the day, but it was white; easy to see and great to score a goal with. The feckless hoodies of today should be ashamed of themselves; I say if they want to smash bottles they should do it at Bedlington Station.

Mal, there is no Middle Class ... it's really just a 'state of mind' which allows those with a superiority complex to look down and sneer on others. Of course it could also be a construct of The Boss Class to tempt or trick others to trample their peers in a stampede to 'succeed' as another means of control. Loads of attempts have been made to define what this so-called group is but none of them convince; perhaps we should start a thread - What is it to be Middle Class? My earlier posts maintain the existance of The Ruling Elite (the Boss Class) and the rest of us (the Working Class) ... you can't get away from that lovely phrase, 'Those who own the means of production'.