Do we remember when we were out and about and had fun? Although it has been hard for all of us, it’s been even harder for young people. As the rules are now coming out for the summer, thousands upon thousands of young people are looking forward to going back to festivals. They are not my thing as I’m not a fan of big crowds but so many people enjoy them. As of yet, no one is sure how they will work, either with a test beforehand or the much talked about vaccine passport, and tickets have already sold out at many open air venues.
My idea of a festival when I was younger was going camping with the Catholic Club or attending the church disco. The place to be was the Corn Exchange but at the time, I was too young to go. I had to be content listening to my older brothers who were fortunate enough to see the likes of Jimi Hendrix, The Who, The Small Faces and the Animals with a maximum crowd of around 400 people. Ed knew my brothers before I met him and would often be at the same gigs. He would later relate to me how great these nights were and also just how easy it was to talk to the musicians either on stage or in the pub afterwards.
As a girl in a Catholic family, my parents were very strict with me. The only places I was permitted to go to had to be run by the church. Amazingly, the local nightclub suddenly became “Catholic” and I would go with my best friend to many “Catholic” venues. During this time we would dress up in our finery with mini skirts and lots of eye makeup and meet up with other friends to dance the night away. I would return home in the cover up coat that I went out in. I would often bump into one of my six brothers on these jaunts. One brother was very understandable and if he saw me he would usually buy me a Coca Cola, but another brother would always threaten to tell my parents, forcing me to leave the disco early and sadly head home, leaving him to chat up my pals.
At our school disco to mark the end of term, we decided it would be a good idea to bring some drink to school and have a little party before the event. I had never taken an alcoholic drink in my life so I asked my school chums what to bring. Anything was the reply, so I duly went to my dad’s drinks cabinet and filled up an empty medicine bottle with Cherry Brandy, Sherry and Whiskey. I thought it made a pretty colour.
On the day of the dance, I duly arrived at school in my mini dress with the bottle in my satchel and my pals and I congregated behind the cricket pavilion. Out came the drinks. Mine tasted sweet so I happily drank the contents of the bottle. BIG MISTAKE! Not only did I miss the disco, but I missed the next three days out of my life and was nearly expelled. Apparently I tried to chat up the history teacher who we all fancied and refused to get in the taxi when my mother came to pick me up. My mother would not believe I had taken a drink and gave the headmistress a telling off as she endeavoured to help me into the taxi. Nobody messed with my mother! 😂. To this day, I only have to smell whisky and I feel ill. Hey ho, happy days.
Stories from my typewriter 