The Deck

I was just thinking of that railing (and others like it, usually outside of school gates) did any of the rest of you used to ''topple tail'' over the top bar as children?
 
Accyweb as a virtual deck - I like it! What a pity we can't all nip across the road to the Dahlia for a frothy coffee and a blast on the jukebox!
 
Dont forget the thrill of getting ready, the really neat Mod clothes, our hair (just a memory now all gone ) Catching the bus into Town, to meet that special girl, or on a date, with someone you walked home with the week before ( nerves, nerves. ) or plucking up the courage to ask someone to dance just to get a knockback, or the feeling of her saying yes, OH what a feeling, especialy if you left together, to walk her to the bus stop or home and that kiss before you leave. You say can I see you next week, so she says OK , Meet you outside the ODEON, friday night. need I go ON & on & on. Meet you on the DECK Later Folks.
 
Ah those good old days. I'd forgotten all about the Blue Dahlia. You could just hang around there for hours listening to the juke box.
 
It's a late weekday afternoon in May 1969 and I'm sitting in the Dahlia. It's packed with the afterschool crowd and Chris, the owner, is working busily behind the counter amid clouds of steam from the noisy expresso machine. The jukebox is blasting out the Temptations' "Get Ready" and I'm in a mood of anticipation, mixed with nervousness.

The reason is, I'm meeting Christine. I've fancied her for a while now and and last Saturday at the Jazz Club I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out for a coffee. I'm not feeling too cool in my Accy Grammar blazer but, never mind, I'll be rid of it forever when I leave in a few weeks.

Suddenly I see Christine coming through the door in her distinctive striped Paddock House blazer. She sees me and comes over, giving me a peck on the cheek as she sits down. Aretha's on the jukebox wailing "I say a little prayer for you..." and I feel like a million dollars. I buy her a coffee and we sit making small talk as kids come and go. Finally, I take the plunge and ask her if I can take her out next Saturday. She looks at me regretfully and says no, she's going out with Bobby. My heart sinks. Bobby is a couple of years older than me and cuts quite a dash around town with his immaculately faded Levis and Ernie McNoe-tailored mohair jacket. He's also a promising local sportsman.

We engage in desultory conversation for a few minutes more and finally Christine takes her leave, uttering those dreaded words, "I'd rather be friends than go out with you." I sit there alone as Smokey sings "The Tracks Of My Tears" oh so sweetly. It seems somehow appropriate.

Finally, I wander across Blackburn Road to catch the Moscow Mill bus for that long ride home, reflecting not for the first - or last - time that I really don't understand women at all.

Ah, it all comes back to me now.
 
Never mind Wynonie, we'll go and have a pint in the Derby, then go up the Con, plenty more fish in the sea, Sounds Incorporated, are playing tonight, as well as the Dappers. So lets get ready and show those girls that we are the King swingers, on the floor and how cool we are, one hand in the pocket to show off the 18" vents in our jackets.
 
Wynonie Harris said:
It's a late weekday afternoon in May 1969 and I'm sitting in the Dahlia. It's packed with the afterschool crowd and Chris, the owner, is working busily behind the counter amid clouds of steam from the noisy expresso machine. The jukebox is blasting out the Temptations' "Get Ready" and I'm in a mood of anticipation, mixed with nervousness.

The reason is, I'm meeting Christine. I've fancied her for a while now and and last Saturday at the Jazz Club I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out for a coffee. I'm not feeling too cool in my Accy Grammar blazer but, never mind, I'll be rid of it forever when I leave in a few weeks.

Suddenly I see Christine coming through the door in her distinctive striped Paddock House blazer. She sees me and comes over, giving me a peck on the cheek as she sits down. Aretha's on the jukebox wailing "I say a little prayer for you..." and I feel like a million dollars. I buy her a coffee and we sit making small talk as kids come and go. Finally, I take the plunge and ask her if I can take her out next Saturday. She looks at me regretfully and says no, she's going out with Bobby. My heart sinks. Bobby is a couple of years older than me and cuts quite a dash around town with his immaculately faded Levis and Ernie McNoe-tailored mohair jacket. He's also a promising local sportsman.

We engage in desultory conversation for a few minutes more and finally Christine takes her leave, uttering those dreaded words, "I'd rather be friends than go out with you." I sit there alone as Smokey sings "The Tracks Of My Tears" oh so sweetly. It seems somehow appropriate.

Finally, I wander across Blackburn Road to catch the Moscow Mill bus for that long ride home, reflecting not for the first - or last - time that I really don't understand women at all.

Ah, it all comes back to me now.

AAAhhhh....well put Wyn..nice story.

But, life's a bitch.......and then it gets worse!!

We've always got nostalgia..... :D :D :D
 
Oh grief - did you have to remind me of that b****y awful blazer?

Christine could well have been in deep trouble - we weren't allowed to go into shops etc in school uniform - strictly forbidden on pain of capital punishment (yes, we did have that, but not quite the same). Anyway, it was rather unflattering - especially the awful winter uniform - who would want to be seen dead in a mortar board?

Anyone remember going up Spring Hill on a Saturday night? Long walk home, but if you were lucky you weren't on your own!
 
I used to think Paddock House girls looked very posh in their jackets. Our blazers at the High School were thick and horrible - then they changed them to green courduroy which was marginally better.
 
That's right, Pendy, I'd forgotten all about the Paddock House uniform rule. Christine was taking a risk, so maybe she liked me after all...or more probably, she couldn't be bothered changing into her trendy gear until she met Bobby later on.

Willow, don't remember the High School girls wearing corduroy jackets. Did that happen in the 60's or later?

Personally, I hated every part of my AGS uniform with a passion. I burned my blazer, badge and all, the day I left. Ironic really, that I now wear a very similar badge on my ASFC home and away replica shirts with the greatest of pride!
 
don't remember the High School girls wearing corduroy jackets. Did that happen in the 60's or later?
That was the year I started, so it must have been 65. They changed it to distinguish us from St Chris's I believe. That awful cordurouy beret. If you were seen in uniform without it you got a disorder mark. In the first year we even had to wear a "gymslip" but could remove the top bit after that. Blimey, even bottle green knickers! And those absolutely disgusting sports shorts.
Anyone in that uniform was refered to as "Snotty green grass" round our way.
Also remember having to have "indoor" shoes as well as outdoor ones.
The summer uniform wasn't too bad - green or yellow dresses with white diamonds, I could live with that. :)
 
Compared to the blazers those courduroy jackets really weren't too bad but the berets weren't so much berets as weird little hats with a rim round and a button on top. No matter how you tried to wear them they just didn't look right. Some people fixed them to the back of their heads with hair clips. Some plonked them at a jaunty angle (and they promptly fell off) and some just rammed them straight on top and took them off as soon as they were out of sight of the school.

Yes I quite liked the summer dresses too........... but oh those awful knickers! And having to do PE in your knickers!!!!

I remember the old blue shorts which were more like a short skirt with a strange additional piece between the legs, very uncomfortable. I can't remember the green ones. What were they like?
 
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i remember coming out of stmarys school on moscow mill st , in winter waiting for the paddock girls to come, &throwing snowballs at them to see if we could knock their motorboards off their heads, i am ashamed to say i got one or two (he he he ).:signntme:
 
Always used to hang out on the little wall outside woolies and everyone would meet under the clock for a night out, but we did go in the dahlia and also the golden grill (I think thats what it was called)
 
The Tree has been relocated to the front of the town hall, the lights start about 12ft up so the loonies can't get to them, and the crib is there too.

Merry Christmas.
 
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