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For Those Of Us Who Like A Bit Of Nostalgia
46 Answers
Back in the days of tanners and bobs,
When Mothers had patience and Fathers had jobs.
When football team families wore hand me down shoes,
And T.V gave only two channels to choose.
Back in the days of three penny bits,
when schools employed nurses to search for your nits.
When snowballs were harmless; ice slides were permitted
and all of your jumpers were warm and hand knitted.
Back in the days of hot ginger beers,
when children remained so for more than six years.
When children respected what older folks said,
and pot was a thing you kept under your bed.
Back in the days of Listen with Mother,
when neighbours were friendly and talked to each other.
When cars were so rare you could play in the street.
When Doctors made house calls and Police walked the beat.
Back in the days of Milligan's Goons,
when butter was butter and songs all had tunes.
It was dumplings for dinner and trifle for tea,
and your annual break was a day by the sea.
Back in the days of Dixon's Dock Green,
Crackerjack pens and Lyons ice cream.
When children could freely wear National Health glasses,
and teachers all stood at the FRONT of their classes.
Back in the days of rocking and reeling,
when mobiles were things that you hung from the ceiling. When woodwork and pottery got taught in schools,
and everyone dreamed of a win on the pools.
Back in the days when I was a lad,
I can't help but smile for the fun that I had.
Hopscotch and roller skates; snowballs to lob.
Back in the days of tanners and bobs.
When Mothers had patience and Fathers had jobs.
When football team families wore hand me down shoes,
And T.V gave only two channels to choose.
Back in the days of three penny bits,
when schools employed nurses to search for your nits.
When snowballs were harmless; ice slides were permitted
and all of your jumpers were warm and hand knitted.
Back in the days of hot ginger beers,
when children remained so for more than six years.
When children respected what older folks said,
and pot was a thing you kept under your bed.
Back in the days of Listen with Mother,
when neighbours were friendly and talked to each other.
When cars were so rare you could play in the street.
When Doctors made house calls and Police walked the beat.
Back in the days of Milligan's Goons,
when butter was butter and songs all had tunes.
It was dumplings for dinner and trifle for tea,
and your annual break was a day by the sea.
Back in the days of Dixon's Dock Green,
Crackerjack pens and Lyons ice cream.
When children could freely wear National Health glasses,
and teachers all stood at the FRONT of their classes.
Back in the days of rocking and reeling,
when mobiles were things that you hung from the ceiling. When woodwork and pottery got taught in schools,
and everyone dreamed of a win on the pools.
Back in the days when I was a lad,
I can't help but smile for the fun that I had.
Hopscotch and roller skates; snowballs to lob.
Back in the days of tanners and bobs.
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The rest of the poem:
My oh my, every word rings a bell,
not only ‘jumpers for goalposts’ but other things as well.
Throwing sticks into trees, those conkers WILL fall,
bikes with no brakes, a fixed wheel was all,
‘cowhorn’ handlebars, no mudguards at all.
Throwing stones at each other, health and safety unknown,
no hard hat playing cricket,
plastic ‘box’ for your manhood but no case for your phone.
Phones were in boxes that stood on the street, bright red,
firmly they’d stand, no phone in your pocket, that was just for your hand.
No TV at home, that was a luxury for the others,
Saturday morning pictures with a shilling from our Mother’s.
Sixpence to get in, sixpence to spend,
hours in the sweet shop, the choices? No end.
Blackjacks, fruit salad, sherbet fountain, gob stopper, maybe a jubbly? or maybe a ‘whoppa’?
A teatime, a bedtime, no ‘raking the streets’, food that was ‘good for you’ with very few treats.
School uniform, short trousers, cap, satchel, a tie.
Darned holes in your socks, leaky pens, that awful blue dye.
Blackboard dusters, ammunition for ‘Sir’,
It came your way if his wrath you’d incur.
The cane, the slipper, or the flat of his hand,
no redress for violence, parents didn’t understand.
“You must have deserved it, they don’t punish you for nought” “you’re not there to have fun, you’re there to be taught”
Well taught I was, and taught well may I say,
It gave me the values I hold to this day.
Respect for those wiser, consideration of others,
role models to emulate, love for our Mothers.
At the time there were no grudges, it was just part of life,
we had FUN without telly, or computers, no strife.
Modern kids miss out on the lessons we learned,
they expect all to be given, nothing is earned.
My oh my, every word rings a bell,
not only ‘jumpers for goalposts’ but other things as well.
Throwing sticks into trees, those conkers WILL fall,
bikes with no brakes, a fixed wheel was all,
‘cowhorn’ handlebars, no mudguards at all.
Throwing stones at each other, health and safety unknown,
no hard hat playing cricket,
plastic ‘box’ for your manhood but no case for your phone.
Phones were in boxes that stood on the street, bright red,
firmly they’d stand, no phone in your pocket, that was just for your hand.
No TV at home, that was a luxury for the others,
Saturday morning pictures with a shilling from our Mother’s.
Sixpence to get in, sixpence to spend,
hours in the sweet shop, the choices? No end.
Blackjacks, fruit salad, sherbet fountain, gob stopper, maybe a jubbly? or maybe a ‘whoppa’?
A teatime, a bedtime, no ‘raking the streets’, food that was ‘good for you’ with very few treats.
School uniform, short trousers, cap, satchel, a tie.
Darned holes in your socks, leaky pens, that awful blue dye.
Blackboard dusters, ammunition for ‘Sir’,
It came your way if his wrath you’d incur.
The cane, the slipper, or the flat of his hand,
no redress for violence, parents didn’t understand.
“You must have deserved it, they don’t punish you for nought” “you’re not there to have fun, you’re there to be taught”
Well taught I was, and taught well may I say,
It gave me the values I hold to this day.
Respect for those wiser, consideration of others,
role models to emulate, love for our Mothers.
At the time there were no grudges, it was just part of life,
we had FUN without telly, or computers, no strife.
Modern kids miss out on the lessons we learned,
they expect all to be given, nothing is earned.
As a child it really was the 'good old days'. I still meet up with my five year old buddy. We grew up together and were joined at the hip. Sixty five years later we still have a great chuckle at the mischief and pranks we got up to. Always coming home soaking wet after falling off the rope swing into the silk stream and loads of other pretty dangerous and stupid pranks. Winter was cold and white Summers were hot and sunny and we played until 10pm and our parents had no worrys for our harm from child molesters.
//Anyone else remember when there were four farthings in a penny and five pound notes were printed in black and white?//
I recall the farthings alright with the little bird stamped on them. Never saw a fiver of any hue in my tender years. Saw a brown ten bob note a few times but they weren't mine until I started a paper round.
I recall the farthings alright with the little bird stamped on them. Never saw a fiver of any hue in my tender years. Saw a brown ten bob note a few times but they weren't mine until I started a paper round.
Yes, I remember farthings and the £5 notes - just once, when Dad sold something he came home with one and let us hold it and marvel. The little shop at the top of The Green had a 'Farthing Tray' of sweeties. If I was sent to fetch a loaf for Mum, I was allowed to spend the farthing change.
A different world, we have lost so much. Now I have to drive a long way to collect grandkids from school because (at ages 10 and 8) it is not considered safe or desirable for them to walk a mile home (this in a good, safe area). Thanks for the poem, Bobbisox. Life was so much better in many ways - even if you heated up pennies on the stove in Winter, so you could press them on the ice inside the window-panes and peek out.
A different world, we have lost so much. Now I have to drive a long way to collect grandkids from school because (at ages 10 and 8) it is not considered safe or desirable for them to walk a mile home (this in a good, safe area). Thanks for the poem, Bobbisox. Life was so much better in many ways - even if you heated up pennies on the stove in Winter, so you could press them on the ice inside the window-panes and peek out.
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