The Song You Snogged Your Hand To… (“Life’s a Journey” series, Week 7).

Last week we celebrated some of your first memories of Movies. This week we are turning our attentions to music. Specifically, the music of your youth which moved you. We are talking about that time when boyfriends were a thing of the future, and the only things you had to love were your teddy and your hormones. Join in with your own Post, or just chat with us, below.

Starsky or Soul?

Although up until this point I had been a die-hard Starsky girl, this one turned me right around.

I can remember stacking the 7 inch vinyls onto my record-player-in-a-suitcase thingy, and patiently waiting for this one to drop.

Music has a way of evoking certain memories and when I watched this video back for the first time in what must be about 35 years (note to self, must stop checking dates, it only make me feel older) the emotions came rushing back in.

Full of pre-teen angst and desperate to be loved, the lyrics never used to fail to make me weep. Hilarious!

Enjoy….

Close seconds:-

“Since you been gone”, by Rainbow http://youtu.be/TYtdW5bD-7Q

“True”, by Spandau Ballet http://youtu.be/AR8D2yqgQ1U

“Only You”, by Yazoo http://youtu.be/q9DOmlfICGw

Now, tell me, what were your ‘go to’ records as a young ‘un? Which were the songs that made you dance around the bedroom with your imaginary boyfriend?

If this has re-kindled a memory for you from your long-hidden family stories, then do share it here.

Post an entry to your own Blog  and use the Linky tool (link below) to enter your memories into the fray. If you like, just leave a comment and join in that way, but do join in.

If you feel sexy, grab the code too (just follow the link) and post it into your Blog entry – that way, everyone can pay it forward as they say – it’s good to share.

Please visit the other blogs on the list and leave a comment or two – it makes everyone’s day!

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

More about the Life’s a Journey weekly memories series.

Other posts in this series:-

Week 1 - My earliest baby photo

Week 2 - Old School Portrait

Week 3 - Earliest Writings

Week 4 - Bestest Friends

Week 5 - Teenage Crushes

Wee 6 – First Movie Memories

Letters Home, WWII; Letter 3, 5th January 1944.

A bit of background

I have been working up to writing this long series of transcribed letters for some time. It is to be an emotional journey, revisiting these stories once again. I hope you will enjoy them, and think of your family as you read.

Joseph Henry Thompson (far left in top photo) was born in June 1925. He was my Uncle, though I never knew him. The eldest of 4 children, and brother of my father (dad being the youngest).

He was born in Birmingham, England’s second largest city, in a relatively poor neighbourhood. His father had died in 1941, leaving his Mother a widow and WWII raging.

Joe ‘joined up’, along with thousands of other young men, in 1943 at the tender age of 18. The RAF was his chosen destination, and he said goodbye to his family and left for training in December, which is where these letters begin. Joe is in the 131st Intake of recruits at the Air Crew Receiving Centre in Regent’s Park, London, where he is commencing basic training.  It seems clear that the toughness of the task ahead is becoming apparent (transcript of letter below original).

Letter transcript:

“Tues (in bed)

Dear Mom and Kids, 

I have received your two letters, they were very welcome, especially the second! I got over my injections ok and the Doc says my vaccination has ‘taken’. 

I had a tooth out on Sunday and it was still bleeding Monday dinner so I had some sort of gargle and it’s ok now.

Our whole Flight was’ confined to barracks’ Monday night because one of our rooms was untidy.

The Duchess of Gloucester spoke to one of our chaps today whilst he was in the Dentist’s chair. She asked him if he liked the Service. He said “Yes, Ma’am, but not this part!”

I’ve written to Hilda and Ted thanking them for their letter and present, also Stan(?) If you write home  please try and explain that I get chance to write about ONE letter a day and that one in bed!

That money has just come right. It seems as if I am buying odds and ends all and every day, and it soon mounts up surprisingly. A special marking pen and ink was the latest, we’ve got to put our numbers on all our kit.

Up to now we’ve had SIX lectures on different subjects and we’ve had a 6 mile march every time!!

Tonight we had a pass-out and went to the local YMCA which is usually a lively place. It was deserted tonight almost because there was a Concert of good music, a pianist, a celloist and a baritone!!

I’ve had 3 lots of PT up to now in Regent’s Park and it’s ok too. The meals here have been getting erratic here lately. Some days there’s plenty and good, other days little and lousy. By the way can you get me some ‘Carnation’ plasters for a corn, we can’t get ‘em around here!

I must pause as one of my mates is playing his comb and he needs discouraging. By the way, I was complimented for looking so ‘slick’ in Air Force Blue by the Corporal! Wow!

I passed my Night Vision ok.

That’s all for today. Got to clean my walking-out shoes!

Cheerio, Love Joe.

P.S. Civvys on the way!

Joe’s full story is beautiful and tragic. He was our family hero. He IS our family hero. If I knew how to complete an effective RAF salute, I would salute you now, Joe. Long may your memory live in our family stories.

I hope to post a new letter from Joe’s correspondence with his Mother here every Friday until they’re done. It will be a turbulent and heart-wrenching journey. Subscribe to the Blog to make sure you don’t miss any of it.

Other posts in this series:-

Letter 1 – 29 December 1943, arriving at Recruit Camp

Letter 2 – 31 December 1943, settling in

Life’s a Journey. Week 6: First Movie Memories

Welcome back to the “Life’s a Journey” series, where we revisit some of life’s little moments worth remembering.

Last week we romped through your Teenage Crushes. Ouch. Embarrassing…… This week I’d like you to dig deep and share a post about your First Movie Memories (Linky below this post). Here’s mine…….

Grease is the (rude) Word

Technically, this was not the first movie I ever saw. It was, however, the first movie I ever went to see without a parent in tow, in a ‘grown-up’ kind of way.

It was 1978. A long time ago. So long ago infact that the Cinema in which I saw this life-changing film has since been upgraded to a McDonald’s (which was in itself something of a phenomenon for a UK town in that era).

I was 12 years old and I suspect my parents had no idea that the film was a bit ‘racey’ in parts. To be perfectly honest, the dodgy bits went entirely over my head, since I had no idea what most of the sexual inuendo was about. D’Oh!

My abiding memories are threefold:-

1. The size of the queue to get in. My best friend and I went outside the theatre and around the block to find the end of the snake. I had, and have never since, seen a queue for a movie to rival it.

2. It was the first time I ever saw an entire audience applaud at the start, middle and end of a film. The atmosphere was “electrifying” (pardon the pun, couldn’t resist).

3. The gorgeousness of both Mr Travolta and Miss Newton-John. I wanted to be them, snog them, eat them, wear them, live them.

To be fair, I was an impressionable twelve year-old. I was easily pleased. But the intensity of emotion which this movie filled me with was/is unforgettable. It left its impression on me, like a dent in my consciousness, for weeks and weeks after the event.

Back then, of course, there was no Internet to use for drooling purposes during the post-movie ‘come-down’ stage. It was pure cold turkey, unless you bought one of the teen magazines which I wasn’t allowed. Grrr. Instead, I contented myself with styling my hair in an ‘up-gripped’ Olivia ‘do’ and searching the local Woolworths for a white cotton button-through nightie a la “Hopelessy Devoted To You” scene.

It goes without saying that I still know all the words….. By the way, You’re Most Welcome.

If this has re-kindled a memory for you from your long-hidden family stories, then do share it here.

Post an entry to your own Blog  and use the Linky tool (link below) to enter your memories into the fray. If you like, just leave a comment and join in that way, but do join in.

If you feel sexy, grab the code too (just follow the link) and post it into your Blog entry – that way, everyone can pay it forward as they say – it’s good to share.

Please visit the other blogs on the list and leave a comment or two – it makes everyone’s day!

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

More about the Life’s a Journey weekly memories series.

Other posts in this series:-

Week 1 - My earliest baby photo

Week 2 - Old School Portrait

Week 3 - Earliest Writings

Week 4 - Bestest Friends

Week 5 – Teenage Crushes

Fashion Fail

Dear Reader,

I’ll keep it mercifully short.

I was young.

I made three classic errors on these fronts:-

1. Hair.

2. Mirror.

3. Boyfriend in underpants.

Nuff said. 1990 must have been glad to see the back of me. Literally.

Letters Home, WWII; Letter 2, 31 Dec 1943.

A bit of background

I have been working up to writing this long series of transcribed letters for some time. It is to be an emotional journey, revisiting these stories once again. I hope you will enjoy them, and think of your family as you read.

Joseph Henry Thompson was born in June 1925. He was my Uncle, though I never knew him. The eldest of 4 children, and brother of my father (dad being the youngest).

He was born in Birmingham, England’s second largest city, in a relatively poor neighbourhood. His father had died in 1941, leaving his Mother a widow and WWII raging.

Joe ‘joined up’, along with thousands of other young men, in 1943 at the tender age of 18. The RAF was his chosen destination, and he said goodbye to his family and left for training in December, which is where these letters begin. Joe is in the 131st Intake of recruits at the Air Crew Receiving Centre in Regent’s Park, London, where he is commencing basic training.  It seems clear that the toughness of the task ahead is becoming apparent (transcript of letter below original).

Letter transcript:

“Dear Mom and Kids, 

Well, things aren’t so bad so far, but we have been warned, (although we knew) that the ITW (Initial Training Wing) we get posted to from here, will be very tough indeed. The discipline here is very strict, they’ll put you on a charge if you don’t leave the cork out of your water bottle at Kit Inspection!

The places we may get posted to are Bridlington or Whitley Bay. I’m writing this against a wall so excuse the writing. We all got a late pass out tonight so me and about 5 others went to a Cinema, quite a posh place, then we went to the YMCA. 

We are going to the Nuffield Club on Sat night, it’s in Piccadilly and a darned good place too, so we’ve been told! We’ve got to be woke at 5.20 in the morning! 

By the way, can I have 7/6 of that money by about next Monday or Tuesday as we don’t get each week but every 2 weeks. I applied for your allowance and I am having 1/6 per day paid to you out of my 3-, the 6d being compulsory. If I find that I can manage on less myself I’ll send more on to you by post.

We’ve had a full pack parade today with our overcoats done up at the neck and our canvas belt done up as tight as possible, and after half an hour we were feeling well and truly cooked!

There’s a lot of mixing up in our room as 5 out of the 11 are named Joe!! We’ve got to send our cases home at the week-end and I’ll try and slip a letter somewhere, probably in the inside pocket of my jacket. You see, they look through your stuff to see what you’re pinchin’!!

We get a ‘Night Vision’ test on Friday and I believe it’s very stiff. I only hope I get through. When you send me a parcel will you try and get a box to hold my shaving kit in, something about 5″ long and 1.5″ deep. I’ve got to go on Dental Parade shortly, 1 out and 6 filled!!

I shall probably send my new brushes back  if possible as there are no locks on the doors. By the way after square bashing this morning we had a 20 min break which took 50 mins. We were cussed in no uncertain terms! There’s always a queue at the NAAFI canteen about a hundred yards long and only 2 girls serving! The Corporal in his speech said that if you can’t get up to the counter in the time, “you’ve ‘ad it!“

There are all Nationalities around here:- Indians, French Sailors and Airmen, British Honduras, Canadians, New Zealanders and all the pick of the Infantry.

Must finish now, got to clean my Brasses!

Cheerio, 

Joe.

P.S. Can I have some Lifebuoy Toilet?

Sweets?!!?

Joe’s full story is beautiful and tragic. He was our family hero. He IS our family hero. If I knew how to complete an effective RAF salute, I would salute you now, Joe. Long may your memory live in our family stories.

I hope to post a new letter from Joe’s correspondence with his Mother here every Friday until they’re done. It will be a turbulent and heart-wrenching journey. Subscribe to the Blog to make sure you don’t miss any of it.

Other posts you might like:-

Life’s a Journey. Week 1: My earliest baby photo.

Life’s a Journey. Week 4: Bestest Friends

The Middle Ages

A tatty old box full of memories

Life’s a Journey. Week 5: Teenage Crushes

 Look, if I’m going to be totally honest with you about this, then there were more than three.

But in case anyone I actually knew in 1978 is tuning in (unlikely, since no one who knows me would imagine there to be any items of remote    interest in my past family stories), I shall pretend that I was a sensible, level-headed teenager who wasted no time on the fanciful imaginings of romance with handsome, unreachable mega-stars.

It began as early as the age of 12. I developed a terribly British (but rather unusual for a pre-teen girl) obsession with cricket. I never missed a Test Match. I knew the name of every player and every ridiculous player position (‘deep silly mid-off’ and the like). It was not the marvels of this historical game which had ignited my sudden sporting passion, however. In fact, it was not a sporting passion at all. Just a passion. Of the animal kind.

Ian Botham. ‘Both’, ‘Beefy’ or just plain ‘Ian’. Who the Hell cared? Corrrrr. I am ashamed to say that I even sat and watched it with my dad, who naively believed we were having some ‘dad/daughter time’. He watched the scoreboard whilst I watched Mr Botham’s masterful strokes.

I kicked Ian in to touch when I first saw ‘The Good, The Bad and the Ugly’. Now it was Clint. Oh, Clinty baby, what a dish you were! I hung a small but perfectly formed poster (probably cut out of some horrendous teen comic like Look-In) of Clint on my bedroom wall, directly behind my headboard. This was so I could kiss him goodnight full on the cold, papery lips. If this didn’t suffice, I would use the back of my hand to practice snogging with him.

Clint, it seemed, was destined to be another’s. And another’s. And several more.

And then in 1978 I found John. Sadly, he never quite found me, but you can’t win them all.

For most of my life I plunged these intense crushes deep into my memory, never sharing them. I suppose I thought I must be the only kid feeling this way. How many millions of other teens have done the same, I wonder? But Life’s a Journey, right? We can’t possibly go to our graves without sharing the memories of our passionate embraces with…..ourselves!

If this has re-kindled a memory for you, then do share it here.

Post an entry to your own Blog  and use the Linky tool (link below) to enter your memories into the fray. If you like, just leave a comment and join in that way, but do join in.

If you feel sexy, grab the code too (just follow the link) and post it into your Blog entry – that way, everyone can pay it forward as they say – it’s good to share.

Please visit the other blogs on the list and leave a comment or two – it makes everyone’s day!

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

More about the Life’s a Journey weekly memories series.

Other posts in this series:-

Week 1 - My earliest baby photo

Week 2 – Old School Portrait

Week 3 – Earliest Writings

Week 4 – Bestest Friends

Blog 101: Things that send me into an irrational state of bonkers

Perhaps it’s Nature, or maybe it’s Nurture, but I was raised to talk proper and since I went to a Grammar School it would seem unfortunate if I didn’t adhere to at least some of the rules of the Queen’s English.

For some unfathomable reason, there is one particular area which never fails to ignite my inner torch, and that’s the Apostrophe Criminals.

As far as I can tell, they fall in to two main groups:-

1. People who suffer from ‘Apostrophe Tourette’s’

These people seem outwardly normal, but when they put pen to paper they feel a s’udden compuls’ion to place an apos’trophe every time they s’ee the letter ‘S’. It just s’ort of get’s BLURTED out from their pen onto the paper like a machine gun. Pres’umably the reas’oning behind this’ is’ the fact that they’d rather have too many than too few. At leas’t if you put one in, you have a 50/50 chance of being right? Especially if the word ends in an ‘S’.

2. At the other end of the scale are the ‘Apostrophe Phobics’

These are the folk who belong to the bury-ones-head-in-the-sand brigade. It doesnt matter whether the sentence contains any omission (letters missing in a form of abbreviation, e.g. I have = Ive) or possession (Johns dog), there will never be an apostrophe in sight.

But. For the Love of All Things Holy, don’t start up a Sign business unless you know how to handle the little curly fellas.

Letters Home, WWII; Letter 1, 29 Dec 1943.

I have been working up to writing this long series of transcribed letters for some time. It is to be an emotional journey, revisiting these stories once again. I hope you will enjoy them, and think of your family as you read.

Joseph Henry Thompson was born in June 1925. He was my Uncle, though I never knew him. The eldest of 4 children, and brother of my father (dad being the youngest).

He was born in Birmingham, England’s second largest city, in a relatively poor neighbourhood. His father had died in 1941, leaving his Mother a widow and WWII raging.

Joe ‘joined up’, along with thousands of other young men, in 1943 at the tender age of 18. The RAF was his chosen destination, and he said goodbye to his family and left for training in December, which is where these letters begin.

Joe arrived at the Air Crew Receiving Centre in Regent’s Park, London, to commence basic training.  It seems clear that the excitement quickly turned to reality once the physical challenges of the training ahead became apparent.

Letter transcript:

“Dear Mom and Kids, 

I got here ok at about 3 o’clock on Monday.

You must excuse my writing as I’ve first had two of those injections and may have another tomorrow or soon after. The ones I’ve had up to now have made us all feel groggy and our left and right muscles painful and stiff. 

We’ve had all our kit – tunic, cap “with white piece in front”, trousers, great-coat, kit-bag, all webbing (12 pieces), mess tin, water bottle, gas capes, gas mask, 1st aid pack, tin hat and net, shaving brush, boot and brass brushes, ‘house-wife’, knife, spoon, fork, one pair of boots, one pair of shoes, one pair of pumps, 2 pairs of gym shorts and some vests, 2 ordinary vests, 2 pairs of Aertex pants, pullover, scarf, 4 pairs socks, 3 shirts, 6 collars, tie, one rain-cape-cum-ground-sheet, and lots more odds and ends. We had to march TWO miles with that lot at 140 paces per minute!

The grub is a bit rough but it’s all right. We’re in some very ‘posh’ flats in Maida Vale. There are ELEVEN blokes in our room and they’re all pretty decent fellas. We have arranged a rota for cleaning the room out. We scrubbed the floor and cleaned the windows today! I must pause now to go on parade………and to continue…

We’ve just had our swimming test also a blood-goading Parade. Blimey, my head aches! It’s those injections!

We’ve been told we’ll be here 19 days or so and then we may be posted to Whitny Bay or some other place I can’t name. We’ve got another injection next week. By the way, I’ve just had a vaccination with the rest. Feel B—— awful!

The tailor is coming tomorrow to check out clothes. We parade each day at 5.30am and get to bed at 10pm if we’re lucky!

Must leave now.

All my love, 

Joe”

Joe’s full story is beautiful and tragic. He was our family hero. He IS our family hero. If I knew how to complete an effective RAF salute, I would salute you now, Joe. Long may your memory live in our family stories.

I hope to post a new letter from Joe’s correspondence with his Mother here every Friday until they’re done. It will be a turbulent and heart-wrenching journey. Subscribe to the Blog to make sure you don’t miss any of it.

Other posts you might like:-

Life’s a Journey. Week 1: My earliest baby photo.

Life’s a Journey. Week 4: Bestest Friends

The Middle Ages

A tatty old box full of memories

Millennium Baby reaches his twelfth year

My Millennium baby.

What a ruddy stupid time to be pregnant. Whilst everyone else in the entire Universe was out partying to the event of a lifetime which only comes around every 26 generations or so, I was 8 months pregnant, watching the fireworks from my bedroom window, in my over-sized pyjamas (since I was indeed, oversized).

I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Look what I got.

I have tracked his 12 faster-than-light-years birthdays carefully, and here he sits, in chronological order, central to my family stories, his journey from babe to man only half complete.

So, since he himself will only cringe with ‘Mom, you’re not putting that on the internet are you?’ embarrassment, I thought I’d share it all with you, my cyber-friends.

Georgie, you may not always be an angel, but you were indeed a gift from Heaven and you changed my life forever.

Anyone else got a Millennium baby out there? Care to share your child’s journey?

“I am sharing an image of something I love with Love All Blogs and Albelli”

Other posts you might like:-

Life’s a Journey series. Week 1: My earliest baby photo

The Hand Me Down Kid

Declaring War on the War

‘Life’s a Journey’ series. Week 4: Bestest Friends

Last week in the series, we discussed your earliest school work. Less ‘things’, more ‘people’ from our lives this week…..

I have met an awful lot of people in my life and there are only a handful that I would put in the definite ‘not friends’ category (thankfully), but there are an equally small number that sit firmly in the ‘Without Question – Friend’ category. True, lasting friends, with longevity and support for each other through thick and thin.

I can remember being told by my mother, when I was a teenager (possibly following a bust-up with some other surly girly teen) that I would “find out who your real friends are”. She said it as if she could almost be tapping the side of her nose knowingly. Like some kind of secret masonic code would reveal itself to me over time. She turned out, rather irritatingly, to be right as usual.

Friends have come and gone. Those that have lastest longest are not necessarily the best. Life has put distance between some of us – but it has not dulled real friendships.

Let me introduce you to Julie. She is my bestest friend. I met her in 1985 when I was a naive 18 year old, fresh from A levels. She was a worldly 22, in a steady relationship and running a pub. She also had a dog. A really big dog. I thought her terribly grown up.

I am brunette. She is blonde. I am tall. She is short. I was a bit ‘girls’ Grammar schoolish’. She was chirpy and bubbly. I played netball. She rode a Harley Davidson.

We became firm friends fast, and over 25 years later, we still are.

Julie finally gets married! 2010

I have suffered loss. So has she. I have been through divorce. She has had cancer. I live in North Yorkshire. She lives in the West Midlands. I have 2 kids. She does not.

We are so vastly different, and yet so compatible.

I love her with all my heart, and hope to be her pal ’til the day we die.

We don’t see each other often, or even speak on the phone regularly these days, but it really doesn’t matter.

I get it now, Mom.

Do you have a lifelong Best Friend?

Post an entry to your own Blog  and use the Linky tool (link below) to enter your memories into the fray. If you like, just leave a comment and join in that way, but do join in.

If you feel sexy, grab the code too (just follow the link) and post it into your Blog entry – that way, everyone can pay it forward as they say – it’s good to share.

Please visit the other blogs on the list and leave a comment or two – it makes everyone’s day!

A slight change to next week’s planned memory share – The Teenage Crush! Join us here next Tuesday for more fun and memories!

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

Find out more about the weekly ‘Life’s a Journey’ series 

Other posts in this series:-

Week 1 - ‘My earliest baby photo’

Week 2 - ‘The Old School Portrait’

Week 3 - ‘Earliest Writings, by Helen’