A 1 - Cherished Number Plate

The first car registration plate was A1 and issued by London County Council in 1903. From 1^st January, 1904 it was compulsory for every motor vehicle to be registered and have a registration plate. In modern times, it became a status symbol to have a private registration on a car, personal initials, for example, and the fewer letter and numbers, the higher the value. The most recent information I have found on the A1 plate is that it is registered to a Mini Cooper in London and the estimated value of the plate is between five and ten million pounds. The lovely photo from my I Spy Car Numbers book reminds me of one of my dad’s Jags. He never indulged in a ‘cherished number plate’.

Once, a long time ago, I think I had a ‘cherished number plate’. It was on a Vauxhall Viva, circa1969. I bought the car in desperation in 1980. Home from visiting family in the U.S.A., I needed wheels but had very little money, fifty pounds, in fact. Fifty pounds couldn’t buy much of a car, but sometimes there might be a ‘good runner’ for sale with only a month or two left on its MOT. It was worth reading all the adverts in the used car section of the local paper. This was one such car. Many shades of green, lots of filler on the sills and a very snatchy clutch, it was worth every penny of my fifty pounds. And my dad loved tinkering with cars, which was just as well. Nearly every day there was something. While I was at work, my dad would be at the nearby scrap yard looking for parts. We would guess if the car would start or not each morning. It became more efficient as my dad replaced bits and pieces under the bonnet. I did the Advanced Drivers Course with the local traffic police in that car. My tutor, a lovely police officer, used to mock my car, mostly in fun, and blame my driving, not the funny clutch, until he drove it himself. By the time I could afford something better, my dad had virtually rebuilt the engine. The bodywork, which was half metal, or more correctly, half rust, half plaster, or whatever they fill holes with, was in a sorry state. Slam the door and a bit more would drop off. It was up for sale. My neighbour thought that was hilarious and suggested I scrap it, but no, I needed some money for it. The first person to see it, bought it, and for my asking price of £100. He didn’t actually want the car, he was after the ‘cherished number plate’, which meant nothing to me but everything to him. That was the one and only time I made money on a car. HEN 63F.

A1, that was Blackpool FC on Saturday against Swansea. Another win, another three points, first class.  I was so happy to have my husband back at the stadium for the first time since November, though I’m grateful to the family members who have taken his place and kept me company at home matches during his absence.

My poem, nothing to do with A1, and not even a poem, just thoughts.

Carrying whatever they can,
Walking for miles,
Someone’s child,
Hungry, tired, scared.

Someone’s parent,
Anxious for family, friends.
Someone’s partner,
Sick with worry.

No sleep, no rest, just tears and fears.
War-torn people, devastated lives.
Broken burning buildings,
Homes, hospitals, schools.

Soldiers fighting for Ukraine,
Their lives, their families,
Their all.
Someone, something,
Put a stop to Putin.
Russians rebel,
End this now.


Thanks for reading, Pam x

 

Read More

Biorhythms - Life Cycles

Long before speed cameras were installed on the A583, my personal best driving time from my little house in Layton to my place of work in Preston was seventeen minutes. This was early morning, summertime and green traffic lights. I promise I kept to the speed limits until I was on open road, in that quiet window between the factory workers heading to British Aerospace or GEC setting off for Strand Road, and regular morning traffic building up. I liked to arrive at work for seven-forty-five. I liked to be one of the first in.

One morning I was thwarted by incidents beyond my control. A minor collision between a car and a van had occurred on the bend at Lea, blocking the road and putting traffic in both directions at a standstill for ages. This was in the old days, before reaching for a mobile phone was second nature. As time marched on and despite the soothing tone of Terry Wogan keeping me company on the radio, I began to feel stressed. Out of three key holders, I was the only one expected in work that day. The other two both lived in Blackpool and would have had the same problem as me, had they tried to get there. All I could do was wait. Eventually, things were moving and I managed to fly up Riversway, lucky green lights, all the way to work and a car park full of patiently waiting staff. I gave apologies and explained the situation, which they were aware of as someone had heard a traffic report on local radio.

“Bad biorhythms day, love?” A colleague offered sympathy when we were inside the building, unlocking doors and switching off the alarm. She made me laugh, if nothing else. Biorhythms had become popular at that time, mid-eighties. I remember someone having a book about it and learning how to work out biorhythm cycles. I just thought it was a fad, I still do. I believe that my thoughts and feelings are all to do with how I might deal with something, be it stressful or otherwise, and not where I might be up to on a biorhythm cycle. Of course, I might have it all wrong.

From Wikipedia – “The biorhythm theory is the pseudoscientific idea that our daily lives are significantly affected by rhythmic cycles with periods of exactly 23, 28 and 33 days, typically a 23 day physical cycle, a 28 day emotional cycle and a 33 day intellectual cycle. The idea was developed by Wilhelm Fliess in the late 19^th century and was popularised in the United States in late 1970s. The proposal has been independently tested and consistently no validity for it has been found.”

There it is. The cynical side of me is amused that a man decided to refer to the 28 day cycle as ‘emotional’.  

Biorhythm readings, predictions, whatever is the best description, are available online. On the strength of nothing more than my date of birth, this reading came back in a nanosecond: ‘Physical’ – Efficiency is high. Use it. ‘Emotional’ – There will be light at the end of the tunnel. Sitting in your shell is not much fun. ‘Intellectual’ – Getting better with intellectual skills, if work needs concentration, it’s good to do it within the next ten days.

Actually, I’m having lots of fun sitting in my shell, being efficient and doing my own thing, be it intellectual or not. Everyone who shares my date of birth will have the same reading, just like a horoscope.

A bad biorhythms day as suggested by my colleague all those years ago means nothing. Sat in a traffic jam, concerned about staff, unable to let them know and feeling tense because of it is all there was to it.

My haiku:

Tell me if it’s true,

All this biorhythm stuff,

I don’t believe it.

 

Don’t bother checking,

Nothing more than horoscope.

Take life as it comes.

 

PMW 2021

Thanks for reading, take care, Pam x

 

Read More

A Poet's Giveaway

By Ashley Lister

Dear Reader,

Thank you. Thank you for making this blog a success. I know a lot of the credit goes to the bloggers who contribute on a daily basis – but the bloggers are all writers and I think it’s fair to say that writers don’t exist without an audience.

So thank you, dear reader, for making us exist.

The Dead Good Blog has been going from strength to strength over the past few months and we couldn’t have done it without you. It’s our intention to make the blog go even further.

Those of you who attend the live poetry events will know that the No. 5 Café is invariably packed to bursting with 50 or more audience members at a typical event. It’s an impressive turnout for an evening of poetry and the support and enthusiasm we encounter at each meeting is, frankly, overwhelming.

And, whilst those figures are impressive, I have to admit that readership of the Dead Good Blog is even more formidable. This site sees a huge amount of traffic on a daily basis. The figures for each month are even more astounding. And, whilst I know this is going to sound greedy, I’d love to see more traffic.

To encourage more visitors I’m offering bribes and incentives to entice more readers here.

I have two copies of A Poet’s Guide to Blackpool to give away.

As most of you will know, A Poet’s Guide to Blackpool is the published anthology of Dead Good poetry that was launched on Friday 2^nd March at the No.5 Café. It was edited by Lara and myself and it really is a bloody good read. We’re trying to work out how to sell copies online. As soon as we figure out that small detail you’ll be able to buy a copy.

Until then, unless you’re already the proud owner of a copy, this is the only way to get your hands on the book. And I shall be giving one copy each to two lucky commentors who make comments in the box below.

The comments can be whatever you want to say.

· If you think we’re doing something right, please tell us.

· If you think we should stop doing something, then let us know and we’ll take it under consideration.

· If you think there’s a theme we should cover, or if you want to be one of our guest bloggers for a forthcoming Sunday, let us know.

· If you simply want your name acknowledged as one of the people commenting in the hope of winning a copy of the book, then leave an empty comment (or write: ‘Ashley is great!’ which should put you in with a better chance of winning a copy).

Everyone who comments will be eligible (with the exception of the regular bloggers) and I’ll contact the chosen ones to organise postage and delivery.

If you’re not already a follower or linked through Network Blogs or RSS feeds, then please subscribe to those buttons on the right hand side of the page. It helps us to know who’s reading us, and it’s also handy for you when you’re trying to find us in the future. In addition, if you can persuade a friend to subscribe to our blog (which you have to admit is damned entertaining on a daily basis) then we’ll be grateful that you’ve helped make our audience bigger and better.

You can do additional things to help increase the blog's traffic if you wish. You could retweet the page's address, or share us through FaceBook, or do whatever you think might get more readers to notice this dead good blog.

I’m a proud member of the Dead Good Blog. It’s one of the first things I read on a morning- every morning. Writing my entry for each Saturday reminds me I’m in the company of some of the north west’s most talented writers – and that’s company I’d love to share that work with as many readers as are interested.

So, to reiterate, if you want to be entered for the draw to win a copy of A Poet’s Guide to Blackpool, simply place a comment in the box below. In one week’s time (March 17^th) I shall go through the comments and select two people at random. I shall then contact winners privately to organise mailing copies out.

I look forward to reading your comments, especially if they say: “Ashley is great!”

Read More