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Was Life Better in the 50's?

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Was Life Better in the 50's?

Old 4th Mar 2011, 14:39
  #61 (permalink)  
 
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Ah 76 got the nick name "Dog" the logic being that since only mad dogs and Englishmen went out in the midday sun and being half English I had to be half a Mad Dog....ergo Dog...got stuck with that until I went to work for Aunty Betty...

Dunno bout the 50s wasn't born then but I rather suspect the late 70s early 80s was a better time to be a young stoat about town than today....I reckon society is less open today in many ways...can think of many scrapes self and chums got into that today would have yielded all manner of officialdom and so forth raining down which in those days was put down to being young and British...
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 14:40
  #62 (permalink)  
 
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Britain was united,and orlwhite then
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 15:05
  #63 (permalink)  
 
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I thought it wouldn't be long before we had the first uneducated unintelligent (and untrue) immigration nonsense posted on what hitherto has been a fun thread...
There is always one eejit.

Was born in '51 and spent the first 4/5 yrs of my life in SE Asia, dad being a driver of Auty Betty's hairyplanes. It was a fairly privilidged lifestyle.

Rudely awoken on return to UK and an itinerant life at various RAF airfields all living in caravans due to lack of housing. That was before RNAS Culdrose for 4 yrs all of them - or at least so it seems through retrospective rose tinted glasses - very, very happy.

There wasn't a great deal of money about. Chicken was a treat and my mother would give a loaf to the parish priest.

Better? Not sure. We were allowed to play, hurt ourselves, learn from it and move on. Socially, we made lifelong friends and I think this was the difference. Perhaps it was the absence of television?
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 15:31
  #64 (permalink)  
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Let it bleed, it'll wash the germs out was the normal comment when you scraped your knees ect, when you thought it had bleed long enough you wrapped your hankie round it to keep the dirt out as you carried on doing whatever it was.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 15:52
  #65 (permalink)  
 
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That sort of attitude kept the British Empire going.
Stiff upper lip and all that, dontcherknow.
Sprogs aren't made of the same stuff nowadays.

Stood on a nail that was sticking out of a plank once.
It went through my shoe and foot, so the only resort
was to walk home, very carefully, with the plank firmly
attached to the foot. A bit like a one legged skier.
Dad pulled it out, which stung a bit, Mum bathed it in a bit of
warm water and Dettol, applied a bit of Germolene and a plaster
and one was free to proceed on the next adventure, provided
the dreaded "Lockjaw" didn't strike first.
The plank came in handy as firewood.
That was about 1950 IIRC?

Last edited by Storminnorm; 4th Mar 2011 at 16:03.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 15:55
  #66 (permalink)  
 
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Chicken was a treat and my mother would give a loaf to the parish priest.
A loaf of chicken?
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 16:06
  #67 (permalink)  
 
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Of course. Chickens have to be bred, you know.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 16:13
  #68 (permalink)  
 
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All I can say is "Crumbs"
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 16:23
  #69 (permalink)  
 
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Chicken Loaf Menu

1. Make sure the chicken is dead

Chicken Loaf Supreme Recipe

or the alternative Chicken Loaf

About Chicken Loaf Chicken Loaf
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 17:18
  #70 (permalink)  
 
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Life was certainly NOT better in the 50's. I was born in 52. Parents had jobs, but little spare money. Food was good, but basic.
In the winters, the ice was inside the windows when we woke up.

However, I was able to walk to school from about 5 1/2. Once mum had trained me to recognise big roads and how to cross them it was fine. Also, adventures with pals to parks and common land were entirely unrestricted.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 17:36
  #71 (permalink)  
 
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However... in the 1950's, cars didn't have expensive electronics to crap themselves, and cost you a fortune. And petrol was less than 2 shillings and sixpence (25c) a gallon!... not these piddly litres, mind you!
2/6d wasn't a lot of money, even though wages were only 15 quid ($30) a week. A gallon gets you a lot further than a litre!
Hmmmm

120 Gallons on weekly wage back then and now you get 78 (based on 25k ave industrial wage).

OTOH you probably get a lot more miles per Gallon now than in 1950's.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 17:53
  #72 (permalink)  
 
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Likewise Mr Norm was playing on a seesaw made of a plank we had not noticed gurt great four inch nail sticking out the bottom,buggah went straight through the heel part of me foot,had to crawl home, all I got was a clip along the ear for ruining a good sock a asprin and sent to bed wi no supper and I still had to get up at 3am to do me shift down the pit.
We were made of sterner stuff in them days.

Don't think yer allowed to play on seesaws now.
Mars Bars were a foot long then as well
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 18:01
  #73 (permalink)  
 
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And Wagon Wheels were the size of wagon wheels.
Never went much on the cod liver oil force-feedings though.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 18:07
  #74 (permalink)  
 
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Stood on a nail that was sticking out of a plank once.
It went through my shoe and foot, so the only resort
was to walk home, very carefully, with the plank firmly
attached to the foot.
Spooky, that is Norm.

Same thing happened to me as a sprog.

Jumped off wall into the usual mixed bag of nettles and long grass. Landed on nail on big plank. Nail penetrated plimsoll, foot etc.

Recall standing ther - hurting - and having to put good foot on plank on extracting hurty foot.

Oooouch.

Then carried on playing cowboys and indians.

Recalled gettting bollocked when we got home because said plisoll was a bit red and I had PE at school. Clip round the ear.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 20:46
  #75 (permalink)  
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The new Queen looked nice and I got a wave from Phil
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 21:50
  #76 (permalink)  
 
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The fifties were alright. Remember scrambling over "bombed buildings" going to Sunday school - short cut when late, in the early fifties. Later learning there were massive cellars underneath that could have collapsed anytime.

Delivering newspapers via a heavily-laden bike at the age of nine. There were laws that said you had to be over eleven, but nobody ever checked. Remember parents pride when I passed the eleven plus and went to a Grammar School. Through to late fifties when I joined Auntie Betty's flying circus after reading about all the exotic places I could be posted to. Probably times were bad but memories are always good.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 21:55
  #77 (permalink)  
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Turned bike upside down. Spun back wheel while applying good old 3 in 1 oil. Got it going a heck of a lick before inserting finger between chain and sprocket.

Due to chain being perfectly adjusted, finger came out a funny shape - sort of a white figure of eight, with black-lined red bits.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 22:32
  #78 (permalink)  
 
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.........But you could have got decent A levels, and had a grant to go to University,.........
Wadda want all that edukashun for ?

Flt engineers had to do sums, co-pilots had to be able to write, but Captains only needed to know someone who could read.

( I know, I've said it before - sorry ! )

I know, fings are different now, no Flt. Engs. for a start - so who does all the sum things then ? probably all got electro-wotsit iPads on their wrist watches ?

Bigger watches then ?

Akcherly - wouldn't wanna go back to the 50's, but the mid-70's were good to me, wouldn't mind that, all a bit downhill since then.

Last edited by ExSp33db1rd; 4th Mar 2011 at 22:50.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 22:32
  #79 (permalink)  

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Never went much on the cod liver oil force-feedings though
Or Radium Malt. Googled that and came back here.

I also did the nail through foot trick a couple of times. Also the falling off a ten foot wall into a plot of stinging nettles. Spent an evening evading police after that one as I'd ended up on the railway lines. Must have been quite a sight with my broken arm dangling behind me.
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Old 4th Mar 2011, 22:52
  #80 (permalink)  
 
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Told this story before,worth the retelling as how things were then, early fifties,self and gang scuttling round the back lanes playing Japs and Americans,we lurk behind St Chads Church hiding from a gang of Japs and there stacked behind the bins for the binmen to take away were six Martini Henry.455 Rifles, real ones not toys, treasure indeed, thence we were the best armed Americans in Gateshead,near as long as I was tall were those those Henrys,me mum never batted a eyelid when I dragged mine home,sadly they were sawn across the breach,but the block made a satisfying clicky sound as you worked the action.
Imagine the headlines if something like that transpired these days.
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