Can anyone remember this horrible practice in the 60's? I always found that the most happiest and vibrant parties came from the houses that allowed dogs, irish, blacks and anyone else who wanted to leave their evil at the door. This also reminds me of the film the titantic where the poor boy takes the rich girl away from the stuffy upper decks to the lower levels where all the menial and poor workers where having a whale of a time.
Do poor people know how to be happier, party and enjoy themselves better than the rich who many just hob nob and are stiff cardboard cutouts just there to make an appearance and not get wild and let their hair down? Thoughts?
I mainly shunned them with a passion and the ones i went to were almost too orchestrated as if it was a large play. I stuck with the working class and we knew how to have a shindig or two
I'm off to the library and will try and obtain some footage and you'll see the difference of the glum toffs compared to the ear to ear smiling poor folks.
We are not rich, but comfortable. We have a couple of friends who are extremely wealthy and extrordinately normal. They treat us as equals and expect us to treat them in the same manner. We are truly blessed to count them as friends.
Back in the 1970's we lived next door but one to the first black family to live In our village.One day dad and I were at Trent Bridge watching the cricket and we met our neighbour who suggested we go for a drink after the game.Any way off we all went and eventually arrived at this place and it was like going back to a speakeasy in prohibition America, you literally knocked on the door,a slide opened and if they didn't recognise you. you didn't get in. My dad and I were the only whites in a room full of maybe 200 black guys and gals and we had a fantastic night and made some friends I still see.
paddywak that reminds me of the doctors on princess road, bottles of beer on top of an old plank which was on top of empty beer crates,
think they went upmarket and ended up with a plank on top of two beer barrels
My dad.god bless him loved that old place and for years we were the only white people to use it,bottles of Red Stripe and "Genuine" Jamaican rum which I'm sure were brewed In somebodies kitchen and some of the best entertainment I've ever heard in any pub or club.Sadly demolished back in the mid '80's to make way for a block of flats