When it took five minutes for the TV to warm  up

• 13th March 2009

Graham (Ianto) Skuse

On the beautiful island of Guernsey

I had a Dream ..

As the Referees Development Officer to the Guernsey Football Association I get very few free Saturday�s in the course of the football season so when Easter Saturday was free of football commitment I decided that I would look at the list of tasks that the wife had kindly done for me over the winter months, the first being the painting of the walls that enclose our property, setting a target for the morning I partly completed the painting and decided that a bath was the order of the day and a relax in the conservatory where I fell into a deep sleep and it was there I had my dream.

I dreamt it was 1946 to 1951 and I was once again living on Grange Road and playing in the fields that have now become the new but ugly and sprawling town centre, Parsons shop later to become Collys became a regular haunt to spend a penny or two on sweets or biscuits, Hawkins chip shop was a great place to have a free bag of scrag ends and old Mrs Davis was always generous with her allocation of  two ounces of whatever you fancied.

I also dreamed of friends both still with us and long gone such as, Lennie Mancer, Gareth Hughes, Maurice Hughes, Russell Baldwin, Tony Loader, Tommy Bodenham, Mansell Jones, Dai Eckerly, Brian Waters, Dai Fields, there were also young ladies such as Virginia Williams, whom at the age of Six I well remember taking home to meet the head of the family� Grannie Griffiths� and proudly announced that we were going to get married as soon as possible, Maureen Shellard who lived on the corner of Grange Road and Somerset street and Pam Waters sister of Brian, I wonder where they all are now?

Such was my dream that it then moved on to my teenage years a lot of which was spent in Oakfield and later on in Pontnewydd, Gazzies caf� where you could have a cup of coffee for a tanner and sit and talk to friends for hours, over the road was the Oddfellows where John and Vera Bradshaw kept the best pint in the village and for only 1/3d, into the Pontnewydd Inn where a large scotch was roughly two bob and finally around the corner was Meakers chip shop where a fish supper cost 1/9d.

I am now starting to wake up but desperately trying to keep the dream going but to no avail �what do you want for lunch� finally stirred me from a fabulous dream that I never wanted to end, I had my lunch and then started to relate to the present, not only has the shops on Grange Road gone but Grange Road itself is now just a small avenue of trees, two ounces of sweets are no longer in the vocabulary of shop keepers, a fish supper here in Guernsey is approximately Six quid, scrag ends have never been heard of, a pint now costs in excess of three pounds and a large scotch will set me back four pounds, in one local caf� (do they call them that now?) I recently paid two quid for a coffee and as soon as I had finished they wanted the seat to be vacated.

If you relate the prices to my first weeks wage at Saunders Valves which was �1 19s 7d you will realise why I want another dream

I am aware that some of the names that I mentioned have sadly passed on but if there are any left or indeed some I may have forgotten then please contact me on [email protected] and if you are driving past my house then knock the door there is only one Skuse in the local phone book and he is a bit of a dreamer!

• 8th March 2009

     Webmaster relates:

.. Who remembers Llanyrafon Farm? ..

Back in 1970, my father bought me a  yearling pony, which cost 60 guineas (Horses are traditionally sold in Guineas; One Guinea was equivalent to  twenty one shillings or in today's monetary system One Pound and Five pence)) from Jimmy Clark, who was the final tenant at Greenmeadow Farm (now Greenmeadow Community Farm); He, was distinguished by his chestnut coat, flaxen mane and tail, four white stockings and broad white facial blaze so I named him `Champion` after `Champion the Wonder Horse` a children's television series in twenty six episodes set in the `Old West`. It was first broadcast in 1955-56 and starred Barry Curtis as 12-year-old Ricky North, who lived on his uncle's ranch in the American Southwest.

 

 The Sire of my horse, was named North Fleet, stood at Stud at `Willis`s Farm` (Llanyrafon Farm) and generally produced stock, true to his own attributes, of a chestnut colour, flaxen mane and tail, and one, two, three or even four white socks like my `Champion`.

 

Interestingly Northfleet a registered Thoroughbred, was Sired by `Ocean Swell` who won the Derby in 1941; Northfleet`s Grand Sire also won the Derby in 1939.

• 1st March 2009

     Lawson Skuse relates:

1961, a motor bike � one of many -, tea you could stand a spoon in and how to win at Cribbage in a `Den of iniquity`.

My older brother Graham recently gave me an interactive CD rom containing card games. One of the games is Cribbage and this reminded me of how I first learned to play Crib back in the late fifties.

 

My father had a number of motor bikes most of which were BSA Bantams.

 

On a Sunday morning he would take me on the back of the bike from the Pen Y Parc Prefabs (my mother always somewhat snobbishly insisted on referring to them as Five Locks rather than as the Prefabs!!!) down to Grange Road, now Somerset Street, to Prospect House where his brothers, my Uncles, Ernest (who always went as Sid) and Gwyn, lived to play Crib, drink tea and generally allow my Mother time to prepare the Sunday dinner in peace as my brother Lawrence would disappear up �his� mountain at the same time to check on wild birds and their nests leaving her alone to listen to the `Light programme` and peel, cut, chop, boil and roast dinner.

 

With me holding Dad tightly on the back of the bike we would ride helmetless down Pen Y Parc, on to the Cenotaph, through Pontnewydd past the White Rose cinema, a left and then a right past the `chippy`, left, over the railway bridge on down past Avondale Road and then turning right into Grange Road.

 

My father always drove at safe and legal limits and never took chances especially so with me on the back, unlike my older brother who rode a Tiger Cub at ridiculous speeds with or without me on the back, and especially down Blackbirds pitch where he and his friends would risk life and limb to gain greater and greater speeds.

As well as Blackbirds Pitch my brother developed a dangerous penchant for breaking the speed limit by `Pilkington�s glass` in Pontypool until crashing head first into the railings there and ending up in hospital with a fractured skull!

 

But I digress:

I remember a bungalow about half way down on the right hand side of Grange Road that had a veranda and upon the veranda was a wind up gramophone with a huge enamelled trumpet speaker.

I still to this day covet that machine!

 

Once we arrived at the Uncles� house the kettle would be put on and the huge brown china teapot brought out.

As the water boiled Uncle Gwyn would get four cups and saucers out, fetch the sugar, milk (often condensed if they had run out of real milk) and a couple of �Disciple� spoons which were so `tannin` stained they were nearly black, while Uncle Sid would drape a cloth over the dining table and place the cards, Cribbage board and match stick Crib pegs upon it and put an ashtray in the middle of the table.

The ashtray was actually one of my father�s discarded pipe tobacco tins (we recycled a lot more back then than we realised) and it would be `chock a block` with Woodbine stubs by the end of the session (these in turn were put in the compost bin!!!).

The stubs were not put in by me I hasten to add!

 

Kettle boiled, tea brewed and poured and the game would start.

 

Now, I was taught the rules of Crib from about the age of seven and had, by the time I was ten, become quite an adept as the `brothers Grimm` asked for and gave no quarter in Crib and Uncle Sid would always ask for me to partner him.

Uncle Sid was the master of Crib and his name is emblazoned in letters of gold on the Pontnewydd Workingman�s club Cribbage championship board!

He could shuffle cards at a speed equalling that of Tachyon particles and I now wonder why our cards didn�t appear on the table before he actually began shuffling!!!

The only thing faster than his E=MC2 shuffle was the speed with which he could shift his peg around the board.

It was always worth checking his hand�s score against the number of holes pegged if you were on the opposition.

As his team mate I knew he was stealing at least two points whenever he turned a corner but as he did so he would always baffle the opposition, Uncle Gwyn and Dad, with an astounding or ridiculous statement that left them confused.

�Fifteen four and the rest don�t score� he would say as he checked his hand.

However, when he turned the corner he would peg six and say �The old man was a better poacher than Geriant Thomas in his day�

Dad and or Uncle Gwyn would fall for it: �The old man never poached in his life you dull bugger� one of them would say.

�I remember him bringing home rabbits� Uncle Sid would respond as he shuffled and dealt the next hand.

�Are you confusing him with Floss Griffiths� brother, John the Poacher?� Dad might ask followed by Uncle Gwyn:

�He�d buy rabbit from him�

Too late, they had fallen for it and were already counting their points in the fresh hand.

He would wink at me and silently prepare for the next corner.

 

�Did you know that Churchill visited Fielding VC�s grave and got drunk in the Greenhouse?�

�Can glass melt in an ordinary fire?�

�Vera Lynn kissed me once�

�How do you ride a bike upstairs?�*  

He was the master and I studied his ways with diligence.

I am telling the truth when I say that I once saw him steal two holes after declaring �19, bloody lean� (for the uninitiated, you cannot score 19 with a Cribbage hand and a declaration of 19 is used to indicate a non scoring hand)

It was a rare Sunday we lost!

 

Over the games they would discuss family matters, local matters and global matters and drink cup after cup of Hornimans loose leaf tea that was so strong by the end of the pot you could bend it in your hands!

 

They never shied away from a subject or demurred on account of me and would prattle on about family skeletons and such subjects as the sexuality of a local vicar, `Iron Hoof `Howells the choir boys friend, or the father of the unwed mother in number seven (not Iron hoof Howells, I can assure you!).

I learned more about life at that table that most kids my age could in half a lifetime!

 

 

Whether it was politics, religion life or death, nothing was sacred save winning the game and I had Uncle Sid on my side which was actually better that having God on your side as God would not steal holes around corners!

 

Around mid day Dad and I would say our farewells and ride back to the Prefab, Lawrence would have arrived home from his mountain and dinner would be soon on the table.

My brother Lawrence always refused the offer of a mornings Cribbage in Grange Road, describing the house as a `den of iniquity` (I like to think that his ten year old tongue was at least partly in his cheek)

 

Many years later I won a Cribbage championship at college and I think I have to thank Uncle Sid for that!

The force was strong in me!

 

Even now I would bet on myself against my older brother Graham despite the fact that he was taught how to cheat at Crib by Our Grandfather, Richard Griffiths.

Brilliant, but an amateur compared to Uncle Sid!

Perhaps Graham will tell you about Digger Griffiths for therein lay many a tale!

 

* Pull the carpet straight!

• 17th February 2009

   Julie Allen (nee Hook) relates:

  My name is Julie Allen (nee hook) was born in West Pontnewydd in 1956, families that lived near by as I recall were the `Coles` and `Lloyds`,  I was
  the oldest girl of four siblings, my brother`s name is Nigel, and I have two younger sisters called Sharon and Tracy (sadly Sharon died in 2007 aged 49).
  My mother's name is Alice and my fathers name was Brinley (died in 1977). I can't remember much about West Pontnewydd, but we then moved to Tynewydd road and then Station road, Pontnewydd.

   

  We lived next door to Gazzi's  ( we lived in no 28 Station rd), I can remember playing in the fields, at the back of Tynewydd road, watching the  steam
  trains come into the station. I can remember going to Cinema in Pontnewydd on a Saturday for their matinees, also when they screened PG Tips films and getting all the `goodie bags`.

   

  Going to the fish and chips after for scrunches which cost  3d ( all that out of 2/6 pocket money, and I think we still had change).
  I grew up with Angela Gazzi and her two brothers, I remember her fathers Cafe in Pontnewydd, everyone went there to listen to the juke box , drink
  the frothy coffee or those ice cream floats, and Nickabockaglorys. Great Times (watching the Teddy boys, `mods and rockers` and the scooters with all
  those mirrors.

   

  We had great times playing marbles, skipping in the back lanes of Station rd, we even  had chicken and rabbits in the back yard, fresh eggs to eat in
  the mornings.

   

  I can remember going to Sunday school at Ebeneezer chapel which is still there to this day, opposite Newtown Motors. Behind the chapel used to be Parsons wood yard or farm, not quite sure which, you could buy bundles of wood, from `old man Parson`.

   

  Remember the coal man calling , putting the sacks of coal in the bunker in the back yard of Station road. Can any one remember the `Rag and Bone` man, calling down Station Rd, and the man that called and gave the kids little tins of polish (what was all that about)?

   

  We had coal fire central heating put in our house in Station road by Peter O'Neil's, they must be descendants of the current firm based in Cwmbran. We
  used to toast our `door step` bread on a Sunday tea-time using an expandable toasting fork and putting jam and butter on (doesn't taste the same now).
  We had `Glynis the shop` next door to us, so we don't have far to go for food; anyone remember 1/4 bags of sweets in paper bags twisted at the top?
   

  Going to Pontypool market was a treat on the bus with my father and buying cockles from the old lady in the market that came all the way from Swansea.

   

  We went to school at Maendy Juniors and Infants School,( Mr Harris was one of the Teachers), which is still standing we then moved on to Croesyceiliog school before it went Comprehensive. I left in 1972 and went on to complete a pre- nursing course at Pontypool College as it was known then, from 1972-74.

   

  Anyone remember the `Croesy dances` I think they were held on a Friday, anyone remember SLADE play there?
  Mr Pomeroy was Head teacher and his wife was the R.I  Teacher there.

   

  I remember the Old Flea Pit in Old Cwmbran, I worked there for many years (for my sins) and some of my family, Mr snowball  was the owner at the time,
  we had moved to Ventnor Rd in the 1970's and it was my first paid job.

   

   Julie Allen has also contributed:

   

  A very dear friend of mine, who is `90 years young today` gave me photo of her, in class at school.

  She went to Upper Cwmbran school the photograph is dated at approx. 1928, her name was Lillian Harris (now Jenkins) of Hill street Pontnewydd, we were just recalling the old days with her and I told her about this site, she gave me the photograph to share with others and see if there is any left?...  she did mention that a lot of her class were killed in the war.

  Lillian known as Gywneth to her friends, is in the front row 7th little face along. She also remembered the young lad, back row 2nd from the right is called Owain Filer.

  

  .. Upper Cwmbran School - 1928 ..

  ---

• 30th January 2009

   Joanna Griffiths relates:

Hi to all, I unearthed an old picture of my grandfather, Richard Mckenna, he passed away in the early 1980's, was married to Evelyn Mole, was in the Parra's and worked for Llanwern steel works, lived in Pontnewdd, just wondered if anyone had any memories of him to share?, also my Great Grandfather Ernest Mole, former Mayor of Cwmbran? Thank you in advance for any info/stories you may have.

---

 John Pennells (Taverham, Norfolk) relates:

Whilst trying to find some info on my elder brother�s Welsh amateur boxing career in the 1950�s &1960�s  (he is sadly no longer with us) I came across your site by chance and was surprised to see the latest entry in memory lane (August 1^st 2008) was an article by my younger brother Steve Pennells recounting memories of Cwmbran and  Pontnewydd. That got me reading all the contributions to � Memory Lane� and it brought back a lot of memories and a good few names that I have not seen and heard of in over 25 years. As Steve said in his writings Five Locks Road was where we were born and brought up (No. 57 later to become 85) was a �steel house� with huge gardens that was just about big enough for nine kids, a mother and father and a dog!

(Sometimes, rabbits as well)

My father had a habit of giving all of us nicknames, I was Jacko, my youngest sister Margaret he called �Honk� (don�t ask me why) but I do know why he bestowed upon Steve the A.K.A. �Slug�. It was on account that Steve, as soon as he could walk, liked to dig. In those days most gardens were cultivated to sustain the families all year round and every type of vegetable, fruit and domestic animal food source (chickens rabbits etc) you could find in the twenty or so gardens that was part of Five Locks Road or that backed onto those bastions of steel and brick. Well, �Slug � was renowned for digging up, with his Barry Island spade that which was planted that very day, and what�s more he was proud of it! Hence the name �Slug� has he is affection ally known as

Not content with giving nicknames to just us, he gave most of the street them as well. Daryl Spiers, or Joe as Steve called him was called �lily white� or �spanner� on account that his hands were always dirty or he had to find out how his toys worked. literally, and it�s safe to say that not many of his Christmas presents lasted beyond  Boxing Day! The Loder twins (Roger & Royston) were �Legs� & �Dapper�. And certainly, as far as the well over 6ft �Legs� was concerned, he followed in the footsteps of the great goalkeepers like Dai Francolme who played between the posts for Pontnewydd in the late 50�s and 60�s.Names like Mal Jones, Charlie Roberts Dai Brown and the man with the hardest shot in the whole of the Mon Senior League �Boot� Coles. Not the most athletic player on the pitch, but when it came to penalties or free kicks, we felt it only fair to warn their goalie not to try and save it if it headed his way. Some heeded our words as the ball more often than not broke the back of the net and would leave a dent in the corrugated fence at the back of the goal. The foolhardy were normally carried off or couldn�t feel their hands for days!

Mel Whitcombe and I started school together in Upper Cwmbran Infants in 1954 in a wooden framed building that was at bottom of what appears now to be the playground (near Eric Edwards shop, as was) and were fortunate to have Bernice Williams as our teacher for most of the two years we were there. Mothered, we were looking back on it now. Then at the age of seven we both got transferred to Pontnewydd Junior School. By this time Mel and I were best of friends, although if Maesgwyn lads wanted to pick a fight in defence of the land that leads through the �backfield� and up the hill to the path that led into the middle of Maesgwyn (more like handbags at ten paces in those days) then Five Locks Road gang would duly oblige and it was every man (boy) for himself. A cut eye or a black one was usually the most damage inflicted.

�Mella� Whitcombe and I went everywhere together, throughout our school years and into our teens, girls had to come in twos in those days, and usually did. Llantarnam Secondary Modern had the pleasure of our company until 1963 where for the first time we were separated by the class system of A&B where Mel ended up in the B class for three years. He went down the mines to train as an electrician whilst I decided that the bowels of Hafodrynys was not for me and worked for Richard Thomas & Baldwins ( a.k.a.Panteg Steelworks before British Steel and the building of Llanwern destroyed it).

 At thirteen we joined the Army Cadets at Griffithstown just off the canal bank which also held the T.A. Lt. Peter Meads was our C.O. who was a most likeable gentleman with a wicked sense of humour for he could always get the better of our �arch rivals�, namely Malpas Army Cadets, and the even more dour personage of their leader Sgt Major Tratt. The annual camps at Folkstone and Crowborough (near Tunbridge Wells) were memorable. One memory that sticks out was that Daryl  (lily white) joined for a short while and was with me in the back of an Army lorry that travelled to Crowborough through the night taking all the kit bags and the 25-pounder gun in tow. When, in the fog, the driver missed a turning and told us to unhitch the gun because he couldn�t reverse with it on. Now those of you who remember the old 25- pounder gun will know that over a ton of gun is perfectly balanced on it�s two wheels and can usually be held by the towing hook with one hand. �On the flat. We were up the top of a slight hill and has I was holding the tow hook it started to creep down the hill with me and my hobnailed boots sliding after it gradually picking up speed. Shouting to Daryl to put the hand brake on he replied, �Where is it?� �Next to the right wheel� I ventured in my not so calm voice. He found it pulled it back and the barrel of the gun went down, and me, still hanging on to the hook went up. Eventually when we peered into the darkness beyond we saw that the barrel of the gun had missed going through a shop window by 3ft All the driver said was �Where you been with my gun� We didn�t like to say.

 �Old lily white� could never grasp the army saying of �this is my rifle, this is my gun, this is for shooting, this is for fun� probably due to his father Percy Spiers who loved all things cowboy and wore a Stetson everywhere.� I�m just gonna mosey on up the woods� was a phrase I would often hear. Ruby, his wife, I owe my life to for she held me in her arms for three days when I was a baby with a fever that the Doctors didn�t hold up much hope for me.

The Army Cadets also gave me the first real �love of my life� for this girl was always waiting at the end of the drill hall road; on parade nights for her then boyfriend was in our force. Dropping him for me, my first date was to be from the drill hall to the bus stop at St Hilda, s.! I was expecting a slight girl with shoulder length hair, and walked straight passed a lass with a bright green, fur- collared coat and a beehive hairdo! Not the best start to my relationship which lasted on and off for nearly three years. I often think of Janet Spokes with a great deal of affection. I last saw her at the bottom of Cearwent Road- whilst on my �postie� round, just before I moved away to Norwich. In 1978.

It brings me on to one of the Memory Lane contributions where someone was describing an old gentleman being found in the canal on the Sebastopol side of the Long Tunnel. For reasons that I will not bore you with here Janet and I had to meet in secret and this particular Sunday afternoon we arranged to meet by the bridge where the water overflow from the canal cascaded down a mini waterfall. There were a couple of lads with a pellet gun shooting at something across the other side of the canal and one said �it didn�t half look like a body or something� although to me it looked like an old tweed coat caught on a branch. (You can�t get to the other side on that stretch of canal) Anyway Janet turned up and so did a couple of lads in a canoe, one of them I knew from Cadets Not wanting to hang around and get �found out� by those who had tried to stop us seeing each other we went down into the wooded area on the other side (5 locks side) of the tunnel and there we were oblivious to the outside world until it got nearly too dark to see anything.  Walking down the roadway that skirted the Cwmbran House OAP Home and the canal bank we noticed that there was a lot of flashing blue lights driving up the actual canal bank. After seeing her to her bus on the Lowlands I returned home to find that they had found a body in the canal and �where the hell had I been� for my mother always feared the worst and probably thought it was I. I couldn�t really tell her, could I?

 There was a little park between Meadowbrook Avenue and Beech Close which was created by the council and in the main by a mountain of a man we all knew and loved called Tom Brown, from Ty Pwca. Although he was deaf, he managed to communicate to all of us through signs and gestures. A giant, a gentleman, and sadly left us far too early. His Son Terry, (�tecca�) still lives in the steel house for it was he who first got me interested in Newport Speedway, in the days of Somerton Park that was Newport County Football ground in those days. We travelled all over the country to speedway meetings in his six- seater Consul. His son Tom, is a speedway rider now and I try to see how he�s performing through the Internet

Jakeway Timber was where Tecca, my two brothers-in-law, Brian�goody� Goode & Vince �Bud� Wheatstone and I worked. When the �boss� was Archie Menzies, who was for many years Newport County�s Chairman.  Jakeway�s became part of Burt Boulton Timber, and last time I saw the yard in Lower Pontnewydd was Travis Perkins run.  Memorable moments include the way we used to find leaks in the thin copper tubing that ran gas from the cylinders to the heaters in the workers cabin. The smell of butane gas was a regular occurrence and was detected by running a lighted match along the pipe. Normally a �pop� indicated where the hole was and would be sealed up with tape There was particularly strong smell of gas this one morning and a �charge hand� who shall be nameless said leave it to him to find the leak. He did, but not before he blew the roof off and all but destroyed the cabin, along with giving the old boy that cleaned it a near heart attack when he was lifted clean off the floor by the explosion! We did get a new cabin out of it, though. Watching timber from the yard floating away when the Afon Llwyd broke it�s banks at the top of the yard .Of the Football Team we had, with tacklers that would make Vinny Jones look like a choirboy. Gifted players like Dai Herbert, who had a fierce shot on him as well as a pair of very quick feet. Cwmbran Town had the benefit of Dai for a good few years

Brian �Normsy� Norman who scored more goals for the opposition (own goals) than he ever did for us. Owns the distinction for three o.g�s in one match Abergavenny Thursday�s Ground it was. I know, because I had the unenviable job of retrieving the ball from the back of our net.

Five Locks Road holds so many good times and some not so good, for just below where the mini roundabout now joins Ty Pwca Road my wife of 5 weeks and I got knocked down by a car driven by chap that I knew and grew up with. I was actually carried on his bonnet 70 yards and when he finally stopped I slid on to the road right outside my parents house where we were living at the time. The wife �s femur was broken so she ended up in traction for three months. They actually found one of her shoes in the rear garden of the first steel house (Daunters?) Two fractured legs saw me on crutches for a similar amount of time. Not so lucky ten years before, in 1958 a gentleman we affectionately knew as Bungey Lloyd who even in his eighties took great delight in divesting you of your �Arrleys� or marbles that was all the rage in those days. To get a bag of marbles for Christmas and by New Year�s Day you would rue having taken on Bungey in the street potholes. His one �vice� was to put his drinking cap on and head every night to the Cross Keys Pub at around seven o�clock.

You could set your watch by him, (if you had one!) Bonfire Night in 1958 just before the bridge that goes over the brook  (MeadowBrook Avenue} he evidently forgot something whilst he was crossing the road and turned back only to collide with a car and a motor cycle (I think) and sadly passed away a few days later. More recent events, sadly, so I understand, has also befallen that particular spot.

So many memories of �home� for Cwmbran is still my spiritual abode I could fill this site up with days gone by, it heartens me when I see the names like the Bodenhams, who like my elder brother and I learned the boxing skills in the upstairs room of the Abbey Hotel in Old Cwmbran. Liz Blount who held me to her ample bosoms when I won the boy solo Eisteddfod competition at Llantarnam Sec Mod. (For Green house) thanks to my old music teacher Muriel Rosie, who gave me the love of singing. Llantarnam School and Dave Paley that allowed me to use him as a sparring punch bag, (I actually floored him once!) only to be pummelled with his 16 oz gloves and Len Constance that taught me to run the 200 metres in double quick time with his size 9 �Dap� belting my backside all the way! Diolch yn fawr as they say in Norfick, cor blas� yus, t�gether 

• 28th December 2008

        Sue Smith relates:

Hello everyone out there,

A Very Happy New Year to you

Well as it's the pantomime season I just thought I would share a few memories with you.

As a girl of 8 or 9 I joined a Pantomime group who practiced at Upper Cwmbran Infants School. I think it was run by the ladies of Siloam Baptist Church Upper Cwmbran.

Our production was �Goody Two Shoes�

I was so excited I went every week to learn the songs and dances, I had visions of fame and fortune and I had to start somewhere, but alas it was not to be I loved singing and dancing but maybe the old hall at Mount Pleasant Pontnewydd (where the sea cadets hall is now) was not the prime location to be discovered.

So I put my dreams on hold while I got married and settled down to being a wife and mother, but soon my daughters joined Siloam Baptist Church and they were performing in the pantomimes which included Robinson Caruso and Aladdin and their performances were held in the then new Mount Pleasant Hall. I was so proud to see them on stage doing the same as I had years before, Anyone remember these productions?  Good memories.

For all those born before 1986, when things were cool, kids were kids and not thugs!
According to today's regulators and bureaucrats, those of us who were kids in the 60's, 70's and early 80's probably shouldn't have survived, because our baby cots were covered with brightly coloured lead-based paint which was promptly chewed and licked.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, or latches on doors or cabinets and it was fine to play with pans.
When we rode our bicycles, we wore no helmets, just flip-flops, or wooden `Scholls`, or black plimsolls and fluorescent 'spokey dokey's' on our wheels
As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or airbags - riding in the front passenger seat was a treat.
We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle and it tasted the same.
We ate chips, bread and butter pudding and drank fizzy juice with sugar in it, but we were never overweight because we were always outside playing.
We shared one drink with four friends, from one bottle or can and no-one actually died from this.
We would spend hours building go-carts out of scraps and then went top speed down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes.

After running into stinging nettles a few times, we learned to solve the problem.
We would leave home in the morning and could play all day, as long as we were back before it got dark.

Mobile phones weren't invented. No one was able to reach us and no one minded.
We did not have `Play stations` or` X-Boxes`, no video games at all. No 99 channels on TV, no videotape movies, no surround sound, no mobile phones, no personal computers, no DVDs, no Internet chat rooms.
We had friends - we went outside and found them.
We played `Elastics` and `Rounders`, and sometimes that ball really hurt!We fell out of trees, got cut and broke bones but there were no law-suits.
We had full on fist fights, but no prosecution followed from other parents.
We played `Knock out Ginger` and were actually afraid of the owners catching us.
We walked to friends' homes.
We also, believe it or not, WALKED to school; we didn't rely on mummy or daddy to drive us to school, which was just round the corner.
We made up games with sticks and tennis balls.

We rode bikes in packs of  7 and wore our coats by only the hood (ahhhh the memory!)
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke a law was unheard of...They actually sided with the law.
This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers and problem solvers and inventors, ever.  The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all.
We had the luck to grow as real kids, before lawyers and government regulated our lives, for our own good.

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For those of you who aren't old enough thought you might like to read about us.

This my friends, is surprisingly frightening......and it might put a smile on your face:

The majority of students in universities today were born in 1986........They are called youth.
They have never heard of `We are the World`, `We are the children`, and the `Uptown Girl` they know is by `Westlife` not `Billy Joel`. They have never heard of `Rick Astley`, `Bananarama`, `Nena Cherry` or `Belinda Carlisle`.
For them, there has always been only one Germany and one Vietnam.
AIDS has existed since they were born. CD's have existed since they were born.
Michael Jackson has always been white.
To them `John Travolta` has always been round in shape and they can't imagine how this rotund guy could be a `god of dance`.
They believe that `Charlie's Angels` and `Mission Impossible` are films from last year.
They can never imagine life before computers.
They'll never have pretended to be the `A Team` , `Red Hand Gang` or the `Famous Five`.
They'll never have applied to be on `Jim'll Fix It` or `Why Don't You`.
They can't believe a black and white television ever existed; and they will never understand how we could leave the house without a mobile phone.

Now let's check if we're getting old...

1. You understand what was written above and you smile.
2. You need to sleep more, usually until the afternoon, after a night out.
3. Your friends are getting married/already married.
4. You are always surprised to see small children playing comfortably with computers.
5. When you see teenagers with mobile phones, you shake your head.
6. You remember watching `Dirty Den` in `EastEnders `the first time around.
7. You meet your friends from time to time, talking about the good Old days, repeating again all the funny things you have experienced together.
8. Having read this, you are thinking of forwarding it to some other friends because you think they will like it too... Yes, you're getting old - but what the hell -we've had fun!!