Back to the 1970s

 The press has been full of the new PM wanting to turn the clock back to the 1970’s pre Margaret Thatcher.  I stress this is not a political post.  Rather it is my immediate personal recollection of that period in time. 

Now I was 15 years young when the ‘70s came to an end, which is a long time ago and I am 5 years older than the new PM.  I also preface this with I am not making any claim to being ‘working class” which seems to be fashionable these days.  My parents were young and certainly hailed from working class northern backgrounds but they were qualified teachers which leads to my personal view that my background was and remains at some level of the broad church that is the English/British middle class long before John Prescott proclaimed “we are all middle class now”.  

A few of my recollections of the ‘70s:

• Living temporarily in a holiday flat, over winter, in Skegness between homes.  There was one room known as the “pneumonia room”.  It was that cold and was kept for storage.
• The ‘meter’ had to be constantly fed with change and filled up quickly which then presented with the same but different problem! 
• My sister and I both got dolls’ houses that Christmas.
• Walking to and from the laundrette with those woven red/blue/white laundry bags. I may be making the bag bit up and actually remember the bags from my grandmother but I do remember walking to and from the laundrette.  I do not remember the laundrette itself.
• My mother packed brussel spouts in The Pavillon at Skegness on the twilight/night shift.  
• Viewing a new 2 bed bungalow which we moved into in Boston.  Our next door neighbour was a single woman who I later shared a hotel room with on a church trip to Lindisfarne (Holy Island).  That trip may actually have crept into the 80’s just but I think it was the ‘70s.
• My mother cycling to work as, what would now be called, a care assistant on the night (or at least the twilight shift) at the old hospital in Boston.  She had to cycle to and from work in power cuts.  That hospital was by the docks - not an ideal commute for a woman in her mid 20s.
• My sister and I testing out food pairings early morning at the weekend when our parents were not yet up.  I do not recommend marmalade and malt vinegar sandwiches, just saying!  Don’t know why I specified “malt” vinegar.  It was our only vinegar.  
• I started school in Boston after my 5th birthday.  Granted there had been a bit of upheaval over the previous year and my parents decided not to have me switch schools twice before we settled but that was a bit late even for the early ‘70s (well 1970).  As noted above my parents were teachers and my Mum was at home during the day so I was not exactly left to go feral!
• When I started school I had been out of nappies for some considerable time - apparently I did not really need training, soggy terrylene hanging around my knees was sufficient incentive.  I could read and write to a suitably acceptable 5 year old level - again, teacher parents.
• We walked to school.  It was the nearest school.  By the time I finished primary school that was a short walk.  It wasn’t that short when I started and there was a really steep hill - for South Lincolnshire.  Elsewhere they call them railway bridges.  My sister had a teddy bear called ‘Little Ted’ (we were imaginative back in the day) and since she came too on the walk to school Little Ted climbed the Mountain twice daily. 
• We had two major(ish) crossings on route - this was the outskirts of Boston in a time of fewer vehicles on the roads.  One manned by a friendly elderly woman and one manned by a slightly more curmudgeonly man - who would have thought?!
• By my second year at primary school there was a “Remedial Class” and that was what the teachers called it, the kids may have been a little more harsh.  I think it was a new initiative.  My sister was due to start school the September after I started in the January and I am told the Headmaster spoke to my Mum at the school gates, said that I was a delightful child and invited her to come and teach the Remedial Class, part time.  She remained at that school her entire career becoming Deputy Head with a number of stints as Acting Head.  …..and all because I was a ‘delightful’ child!
• The whole class did the 11 plus exam (verbal reasoning - such a treat) and we each went to the school we were allocated following the results - more or less.
• In the drought of ‘76 we were allowed 3 fingers (horizontal) of water in the bath.
• There were no classroom assistants at either my primary or secondary school save that at secondary school a younger girl, who needed a wheelchair, had someone to assist her.  Just one teacher per class and class sizes, before specialising at secondary school (and that would have been 80’s) were circa 30.  At secondary school we did have lab assistants for science classes.
• Classes were a teacher standing infront of the class talking at you.  At secondary school you just wrote down what they dictated for much of the time.
• We had a joint trip with the equivalent boys school (my secondary school was all girls) to the ice skating ring at Nottingham.  I had never ice skated before.  I was wearing black cords and a black and white check shirt.  Those cords were new and not colourfast.  Bath night was not every night in the ‘70s.  I had blue tinged legs for a couple of days.
• At some point my Mum became a full time teacher.  Was I a latch key kid - fat chance.  I spent a lot of time after school stuck in a class room waiting for her to finish.
• When my Dad passed his driving test he hired a Cortina to go and visit grandparents in Lancashire.  It cost £3.00 to fill the petrol tank from empty.
• Our first family car was a mini.  As in one of the old ones not the sizeable BMW derivative that now bears the name.  There was a serious conversation as to whether we could get 4 kids in the back to go on a day trip to Norfolk.  Didn’t happen - the day trip did but with just my sister and me in the back.
• Weekend day trips to Norfolk happened quite often.  These were not rollercoaster rides trips to Great Yarmouth.  Sandringham featured, Snettisham beach ( v stony) featured, sitting at the entrance/exit to a car park for, what seemed like, hours waiting for some Crossbills to put in an appearance also featured.  
• Picnics on the above occasions had beef and salmon (Shippams, natch) paste sandwiches (that would be Mother’s Pride then) and Penguin or Club biscuits.  Orange squash was as good as it got, drinks wise.  There was usually a flask, though not THAT sort of flask.  Tomato soup or hot chocolate if you were lucky.  Instant coffee most likely, or tea tasting of instant coffee (latter = bad day out!)
• Seat belts were not compulsory (that did not happen until the ‘80s.  In fact I don’t think it even happened until after I passed my test but we learnt to drive early in South Lincs as it was the only way of getting any freedom.)
• Being on my parents’ passport(s).
• Key Markets (where my sister later had a 6th form Saturday job in the ‘80s - I did 2-3 hours after school on Hillards Deli Counter Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights for £1 an hour) rationed the number of bags of sugar a customer could buy.  When they had sugar that was.
• At home we had candles and paraffin fuelled hurricane lights for power cuts which happened a lot.  Those hurricane lamps were also used for walks across the playing fields and near the woods - my Dad, sister and I, at Halloween.  Much more fun on the latter occasions. 
• We had a paraffin heater for heating when the power went off.  No carbon monoxide alarm - well why would you?
• My parents bought their first and only house in 1977.
• We didn’t have a telephone or a video player at home, not that either of these are the feature in my life now that they were from the 80s on but at that point I had no one to ring anyway.
• I spent a lot of time roller skating in circles, albeit quite large circles around the estate we lived on.  
• I had M&S polyester trousers with a partially elasticated waist and when I fell over on my roller skates and scuffed the knee in a new pair, Mum sewed a yellow smiley patch on them.  Soooo embarrassing……now.  Not sure I noticed then.  It solved a problem and it was colourful.
• The Deputy Head of the primary school I went to (ie the one my Mum taught at) organised bus and ferry trips to various places in Europe.  My Dad’s school also joined in on some.  Hamburg, The Hague/Keukenhof gardens and Copenhagen and Sweden being the most immediately memorable as a family.  Brugges also but that may have crept into the 80s.  
• We had picnics in our cabin.  Home made meat pies.  We also went to the breakfast buffets.  I remember a lot of second, third, fourth helpings of orange juice (today the glasses might be bigger!)
• My sister and I went on one to Gothenburg along with others in my class at school supervised by teachers (who were friends of my parents) whilst my parents had a break elsewhere.  I remember buying a straw Christmas tree decoration which was possibly the only thing in Sweden I had any chance of affording.
• On the trip to Hamburg we went to the Opera.  The scenery was really basic.  The dress of the audience less so (I’m sure there were fur coats!).
• We went to the Opera mid week in Norwich on occasions also - that’s a long way on a school night!
• We went on a family trip to Paris and saw a Son et Lumiere at Les Invalides.  ….and the Pompadou Centre, amongst other things but I remember the escalators.
• Angel Delight, Dream Topping and evaporated milk on tinned fruit. 
• A proper chip pan.  Best chips ever but something of a Health and Safety fail.
• My Dad’s signature dish was egg and chips.

I have no recollection of rubbish piling up but then I was a kid why would I notice/care.  I do hear a lot, from a friend, about rubbish not being collected in Birmingham right now.  Maybe they are already channelling the call to go back to the ‘70’s?!

Overall the ‘70s were ok, actually pretty good, as a kid.  As an adult, at the time, I suspect things were pretty bleak at points.  Would I want to go back - no!  I don’t share the halcyon view that is being talked about.  Crime might have been less, the job market might have been easier, etc etc but that genie is not going back in the bottle.  Forward is the only way to go.  That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t welcome a few adjustments (quite a few actually) but I am not hankering after the world of my childhood.  I can ice skate better now.  Well, last time I tried I could but my days of roller skating for hours around the estate are in the past - I don’t have the time and I am not sewing yellow smiley patches on my knees when I fall over.  I shall just go on eBay and buy a new pair of jeans. 

In comparison S spent much of the ‘70s in Abu Dhabi.  Principal memories seem to be swimming, sailing, having his own passport, power cuts (we weren’t alone but apparently the Sheikh solved them).  Cockroaches, lots of them, a black moving floor it has been described as - in his bedroom!  Helping his mum remove the weevils from rice (my preferred starch is potato - just saying).  British workers arriving from Libya with not much more than the clothes on their backs, having been given 24 hours notice to get out - hence his own passport.

Not sure he wants to go back to the 1970s either.  A few weeks holiday in the UAE is a different matter.  It’s on the list!