Blackpool Rocks - UTMP

Blackpool Rocks. It certainly does. I’m out on the fringe, away from the excitement of most of what Blackpool offers as a holiday resort, but still close to the main roads for any of the emergency services. I’m always complaining about sirens disturbing the peace. Another reason why we’re looking to move.

Blackpool became my permanent home in the mid ‘60s. Dad achieved his goal of having a pub on Blackpool prom and we stayed long after that. The family was settled. Those earlier times were fun and some of my best memories are captured in my poem, ‘This Was My Blackpool in ‘68’. I’ve previously blogged about that particular summer, so I’ll say no more, but the poem can have another airing.

This Was My Blackpool in ‘68

Taking a tram from North Pier to Starr Gate.
A summer of fun and staying up late.
This was my Blackpool in ’68.

Anne, Auntie Kath and me, all holding hands
Crossing the Prom to get on to the sands
Where the grumpy deck-chair man always stands.
This was my Blackpool in ’68.

We were young ladies with panache and style,
Playing the penny arcades for a while,
Frittering our spends on the Golden Mile.
This was my Blackpool in ’68.

Spinning the Waltzers three times in a row,
Make it go faster, we don’t like it slow.
And then the man said, “That’s it, off you go!”
This was my Blackpool in ’68.

Out to a summer show, straight after tea,
Engelbert tonight at the ABC,
A back-stage delight for my mum and me.
This was my Blackpool in ’68.

Got to get ready, there’s no time to lose!
My trendiest outfit is what I will choose…
A pink ‘Biba’ dress with bright orange shoes.
This was my Blackpool in ’68.

We wanted peace, love and Flower Power,
Charlie Cairoli and Blackpool Tower,
Seaside and sunshine for hour after hour.
This was my Blackpool in ’68.

My first visit to Blackpool FC was with a group of school friends in 1970. If memory serves me well, the match was against Chelsea. I don’t remember the result. It wasn’t a pleasant afternoon. I found the whole experience scary, loud and lairy, full of the sort of men that would frequent our vaults, to be avoided. In future, I would stick to beat nights at the ice rink.

Oh, I’m just hanging out with the lads on this photo. They make me look so small.

Forty years passed before I became keen on following Blackpool FC again. This was a random invite to watch a match but I was lured in this time. The stadium had been transformed into a female friendly, welcoming place to be, greatly improved from 1970. I got the bug, well, we both did. Season tickets soon followed and since then, it has become a way of life. Before that, a promotion to the Premier League prompted a poem.

Sea Sea Seasiders 2010

Everything tangerine and white,
Fans all meet in great assembly.
Blackpool FC in the top flight,
They’ve beaten Cardiff at Wembley.

Open top bus in ’53,
Everything tangerine and white,
The FA cup for all to see,
Bill Perry’s goal, the town’s delight.

It really was an awesome sight
With deafening applause and cheer;
Everything tangerine and white
And flowing champagne and beer.

Open top bus like ’53,
Everything tangerine and white,
The play-off cup for all to see,
Ormerod’s goal, the town’s delight.

Ollie’s team have got the power,
Premier League, a dizzy height.
Blackpool flag atop the tower,
Everything tangerine and white!

The beach and the promenade were my playgrounds as a child. I’m happy for those carefree times and I’m lucky to have had such a diverse upbringing that moving around with a family and extended family in the pub game gave me. I love my memories. The Golden Mile is wonderful for all those who seek it, but there’s no interest for me anymore. I like the sea air and the Blackpool coast line, maybe a walk on the beach, but it needs to be firm sand these days. That’s what Blackpool rocks for me.

Some time ago, I read ‘The Blackpool Rock’ which is an intriguing and interesting book about aspects of Blackpool that are not in my personal experience. A gripping read. Steve Sinclair tells his story with honesty and integrity about the side of Blackpool he knew very well through his work as a doorman. Reading about it is close enough for my comfort and satisfies my fascination. There is also a TV documentary with Danny Dyer. It is definitely not my Blackpool in ’68, or maybe it was and I didn’t notice?

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Simple Pleasures

How nice it is to please myself what I do and when I do it. Retirement is wonderful, apart from the lack of freedom we’ve had due to Covid restrictions. To be fair, I don’t feel like I’ve missed out on much. I’m not one for much socialising, but when someone says I can’t, suddenly it’s the very thing I want to do. Revelations about social occasions the government got up to against their own rules make my blood boil. There’s enough being documented without me moaning. Give enough rope, etc. I’ll wait.

My family has been my ‘bubble’ since the end of the first lockdown relaxed movement enough for us to be together.  Sundays used to be family day. We would have all four grandchildren for lunch and tea, fun and games, cousins together, usually with one or more of their parents. Sometimes we need the help and we’d always end up shattered, even if we’d been doing quiet stuff like colouring or Play-Doh. Nowadays, with two of them being at school and two at nursery, we’ve changed to Mondays to make it a bit easier on ourselves – us getting older. We have two after school and enjoy their company for a while before the younger ones arrive a little later after nursery. It’s the lovely, simple pleasures that family time brings that gives me so much joy, even when there are tantrums and moody moments. My treasures, each one.

 When we were allowed, my husband and I travelled to Scotland on a couple of socially distanced breaks. We stay in a self-catering lodge and observe whatever restrictions are in place when we are out and about. Things are constantly changing but what we noticed each visit was that rules were strictly adhered to. We felt safe and looked after. Again, it’s the simple pleasures that matter for us; watching red kites, or the birds outside the lodge that I fill the feeders for twice a day, relaxing with a book, doing a bit of knitting or pottering about outside. It was great to be back after so long.

At home I like to keep in contact with my friends. One, like me, has kept very much to her immediate family throughout Covid, but we chat regularly on the phone or text each other, often after a Blackpool F.C. match. I’ve probably been at the ground, she’s been watching or listening at home. That’s another of my simple pleasures, going to the match, face mask on, being part of it regardless of the outcome and hopefully, walking home singing.

Music, as mentioned in my last blog is a necessary part of my day, lots of radio, but I’ve just taken delivery of John Lodge’s new album on CD and I’m happily giving it a hammering. I sometimes do the Sudoku in the paper, alternating between that and the word-wheel that drives me crazy. I’m mad, sad, simple or crazy, and I don’t care. I’m glad to be retired and pleasing myself.

My poem,

A welcome mug of Nescafe Gold Blend,

Enjoying a phone chat with a close friend.

“How’s it going? Are you coping okay?

I managed to get out for lunch today.

Doing the driving to help the guys plans,

A treat of salad and steak in St Anne’s.

Face mask and hand gel, all safety measures

Necessary for such simple pleasures.

Sunday was quiet, we just played Scrabble.

Monday was hectic with all our rabble.

At last, M’s wobbly tooth has come out,

The litt’luns were squabbling and falling out,

Just usual stuff, you know what they’re like,

They both want the pedal car, not the bike.

L loves to read, my darling treasure."

Fam’ly Mondays make a simple pleasure.

 

PMW 2022

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Expectation - Uncertain Times

 

It is not quite Epiphany but the Christmas tree, cards and all the trimmings have been taken down and packed away. There was an element of sadness. I didn’t feel ready to remove everything. I was being practical and fitting in other plans. Also, I was missing my little helpers who had made the task a joyful one last year and the year before. Just the other day my eldest grandson asked if he could help to put the tree away. I told him he could if he was here when the time came, but he was at school yesterday when I was unwinding the strings of beads, trying to prevent them getting tangled. I felt a bit guilty. I’d given him the expectation of being involved. Now, if the subject arises, I’ll be using ‘lockdown’ as an excuse. He’ll already be gutted at his beloved school taken from him again.

I began last year, 2020, with lots of expectations and, same as everyone, not a clue of what was coming to take it all away from me. There would be our regular visits to Dumfries and Galloway with trips to family in Troon. We looked forward to going to the Channel Islands for our 30^th wedding anniversary. I was retiring from work. There would be more travelling and lots of time to spend with our four grandchildren. Covid 19 changed all our lives and continues to do so.

I feel safe at home and it’s where I like to be. One thing I enjoy is watching all Blackpool F.C. matches on the big TV on the back room wall, from the comfort of the squashy sofa. It’s great to settle down with a hot coffee and the anticipation and expectation of a thrilling match ending in a great result. When that happens I hope our neighbours don’t mind the cheering and applause. I miss the atmosphere of the football ground, I miss the company of the fans who sit around us, the chats and catch-ups. They will be like us, watching from home. And, sitting in comfort in the warmth, I wonder how on earth I’d cope in the stadium on a freezing match day. I’ve gone soft. I have no expectation of getting back into the ground this season, but if we can, I’ll be there.

This year I have no New Year resolutions, except to write more of my own poetry but I haven't set off on that yet. Expectation is to receive the Covid vaccine when my turn comes up and retire from work at some point. If I keep my expectations realistic, there will be less disappointment.

Here's a Thomas Hardy poem,

Expectation and Experience

“I had a holiday once,” said the woman –
Her name I did not know –
“And I thought that where I’d like to go,
Of all the places for being jolly,
And getting rid of melancholy,
Would be a good, big fair:
And I went. And it rained in torrents, drenching
Every horse, and sheep, and yeoman,
And my shoulders, face and hair;
And I found that I was the single woman
In the field – and looked quite odd there!
Everything was spirit-quenching:
I crept and stood in the lew of a wall
To think, and could not tell at all
What on earth made me plod there!”

Thomas Hardy  (1840 – 1928)

 Pam

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Colours - The Future's Bright

The future is looking bright, tangerine and white.

I’m looking forward to Saturday’s football match. I’m looking forward to a fantastic cheerful atmosphere from a capacity crowd. The chanting, the singing, the drum roll, all will be there, at last.

Bloomfield Road football ground is clean and tidy with colourful, tangerine seating. It’s a far cry from 1970 when my friends and I stood on the terrace to watch Blackpool, trying to avoid whatever skirmishes were happening around us. It was a male-dominated place in those days. I don’t think there were any facilities for ladies, but a few of us die-hards were not put off.  Blackpool F.C. were in the First Division at the time and I couldn’t wait to see George Best play when Manchester United came. Sadly, it was not meant to be. I was many miles away on a fortnight’s holiday in Majorca with my family when that match was taking place.

One of my close school friends was one of Bill Perry’s daughters. I knew he was a former player for Blackpool but I didn’t appreciate the significance at the time. He scored the winning goal for Blackpool in the 1953 FA Cup Final, but to me he was my friend’s dad and the man who fixed our vacuum cleaner in his electrical shop.

 In the early ‘70s I stopped going to matches. Time had moved on and my weekends were taken up with other things. I followed the fortunes of the team from a distance and that’s how it stayed for a long time.

A new era is about to commence. Colour the town tangerine and white.

 

My poem from 2010,

 

 

Sea Sea Seasiders  2010

 

Everything tangerine and white,

Fans all meet in great assembly.

Blackpool FC in the top flight,

They’ve beaten Cardiff at Wembley.

 

Open top bus in ’53,

Everything tangerine and white,

The FA cup for all to see,

Bill Perry’s goal, the town's delight.

 

It really was an awesome sight                                                            

With deafening applause and cheer;

Everything tangerine and white

With plenty of champagne and beer.

 

Open top bus like ’53,

Everything tangerine and white.

The play-off cup for all to see,

Ormerod’s goal, the town's delight.

 

Ollie’s team have got the power,

Premier League, a dizzy height.

Blackpool flag atop the tower,

Everything tangerine and white!

 

 

PMW

 

 

Thanks for reading, Pam x

 

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