firbeck
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Posts posted by firbeck
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I have SWMBOs permission so I'm going ,(probably)
Honest mate, I saw the delectable Julie on BBC Look East last night and I would forget it, her weather forecasts are usually spot on, I was considering going up to the practice which according to the NOTAMS is cleared for 14:00 this afternoon but they are predicting heavy prolonged rain for the next 36 hours. It's looking very threatening at the moment, and bloody cold.
Following your bit of trouble at RIAT, I would suggest a local trip to Cosford or how about the amazing new National War Memorial at Alrewas in Staffordshire.
I've been to airshows in some terrible weather, the Last, Last Lightning show at Binbrook was pretty unforgetable, but at least it was warm. Then there was the 40th anniversary of the BoB at Coltishall, it took hours to get in, hours to get out and in between time hardly anything flew because of fog. I went to the DX september airshow two years ago and nothing could fly at all due to low cloud and drizzle.
If you were a warbird operator, say Stephen Grey, would you fly the worlds only airworthy Curtiss 75, or last surviving P-40 from Pearl Harbor in dodgey weather conditions, I think not.
I would like to go, meet up and give you a guided tour, but I have a bad feeling about the whole thing.
Incidentally, what time would you set off for such an epic trip, it's a hell of a way to go, I would suggest you save up your pennies for next years Legends and I'll get you into the TFC enclosure at the front of all the action, thats a promise, as long as I don't break anymore ribs and can't go as what happened this year.
It's up to you matey.
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Beefsteak
If you are still thinking of coming down to the DX airshow on sunday, I'd forget it.
The weather today is absolutely appalling, the practice sessions are booked for tomorrow afternoon, but it isn't supposed to be too good then either and according to our local weather reports, sunday is supposed to be even worse.
Strange, I haven't missed an Autumn Airshow since they started, the weather is usually pretty good, I was looking at my vid of last years show and we were stretched out in comfy chairs wearing tee shirts. What a terrible summer for anything, I haven't seen a single airshow, due to bad weather or illness, thats a first, going back 50 years I reckon.
If I was the Patrouille De France, I'd stay in Provence and not bother getting frozen to death and soaked.
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I reckon it was used to keep the place warm, direct microwave energy from the sun.
It used to get so hot and stuffy in there that we preferred it when our lectures were in the old building on Waverley Street, which, fortunately, was most of the time.
With regard to the Newton Building, does anybody recall going to any concerts in there.
We went to see the Moody Blues in 1968, it was the first time I'd ever been inside the place. To my amazement we had to go up on the lift to the top floor.
There was a largish hall, cafe? with a bar at the back of the stage which I'm sure was a temporary affair. When we went for a pint before the concert, the whole band was standing at the bar drinking and chatting to everyone, I remember thinking how tall they all were.
If anyone can recall the Moody Blues at the time, they used a very complex keyboard instrument called a Melotron which contained pre-recorded looped orchestral tapes, it was a big piece of kit.
We couldn't work out how they got all the gear up to the top floor, the lifts didn't seem big enough.
I presume that it was the original Union bar till the other place was built, how many other bands played up there, I don't know, it was the only time I ever went.
When the new Union opened, it wasn't that well designed for bands.
We went to see John Martyn and The Sutherland Brothers, who were dumped in a small room next to the bar, understandably, JM got cheesed off with people wandering through to buy drinks and the constant racket from conversation, at one point he nearly walked out.
Downstairs was reserved for the bigger bands, Roxy Music on their first tour, Nazareth who deafened us, The Strawbs, Peter Framptons Camel, the hilarious Stealers Wheel concert when Jerry Rafferty arrived late and had a massive row with Joe Egan on stage.
Focus, top band at the time, but there was a fiddle with the tickets because there was such a demand. My mate who was Union social secretary promised to get me in, but he let me down. I walked off in disgust but managed to get in later for nothing by just showing my union card and pretending to go to the gym.
Pink Floyd were sensible and played in the gym, we had to be careful not to mess up the floor though.
The problem with Trent Poly concerts was that due to some quirk in the licencing laws as it was in the town centre, you had to be a Union member to get tickets or even go in, ok when I was at Trent but dificult otherwise.
Nottingham Uni was different, anyone could go, you could even buy your concert tickets from Clement Pianos in town.
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I forgot, scratch that three mill on wine
1 million on a body transplant
2 Million on wine.
I'm disgusted with you, I would have thought you would have thrown it at the Vulcan to keep it flying for another week.
Or maybe 'tapped up' Caroline Grace for a few flying lessons in her 2 seat spitfire, then bought them both.
I was hoping to win £100m on the Euro lottery last week so I could buy out the Conservative Party and restock it with ex-miners, now that would have been a worthwhile investment.
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I've just found this thread.
The ground at the bottom of Stanford Street, prior to the construction of the Woolies extension, was used as a burial ground for a chapel situated just north on Castle Gate.
I clearly remember watching the excavations on one of our Saturday morning trips into town, and I reckon it must have been in the mid 50's. My father had purchased a rather large bag of pork scratchings from the Pork Farms shop on Parliament Street and we stood next to the site scoffing these while the excavators unceremoniously shovelled up folks's mortal remains and dumped them into lorries. I know that there were and are rules refering to the removal of human remains, but it depends on their age and living relatives. When I worked years later for the Diocesian Architects, I learnt the rules, which even then were somewhat 'manipulated'.
I still think of that day when I have a decent bag of scratchings now, it was also a combination of smells, pork, fresh soil and that fusty smell you get from old bones.
As I recall the new Woolies was built on the steel frame principle with massive great concrete foundations, it didn't seem to take long to build. The record department was situated at the end of the vee, probably right on top of some ardent Baptists, I doubt whether they got them all out.
Wollaton Park was developed as a transit camp for US troops prior to the invasion at D-Day.
Later it was used to house Italian prisoners of war, with British guards, the Yanks were advancing through Europe with Patton, too valuable to waste, besides the Italians were pretty benign and were allowed to work locally.
During the time of the American build up, my father as a member of the Royal Artillery was removed from Norfolk to Larkhill, given a promotion to senior sergeant and was a lecturer on all sorts of technical gun ranging mathematics, as well as radios.
Meanwhile my mother was constantly harrased by US troops on her trips up Trowell Road to the Co-op in Wollaton village, what saved her was my brother, a lovely bouncing baby in his pram that the Yanks doted on, to be fair, she said that they were lovely blokes, I'm dying to ring her but she's got her mate Sheila round for tea, not allowed.
Sorry, having a moment here, Radio 2 are playing Halleluhah by Jeff Buckley, if you've never heard it, get a life, yes, I know it was written by Leonard Cohen, but it gets me every time I hear Buckleys version, I don't know why, but it makes me think of my late dad.
Anyway, the said great late dad came home on leave to find Wollaton overrun by American troops, not that he had a problem with them, he loved the blokes, some of his later combat experiences with them were legendary, British RA sergeant and his pals the US 82nd Airborne, fuelled by several bottles of Johnny Walker attacking Waffen SS in Holland, don't take me there, it would make a great film.
Anyway, the old boy went to the Admiral Rodney to find it full of US troops, no problem with that, except that he asked for a glass of whisky and was told they didn't have any, no problem, warm watered down bitter will do. Trouble is, when the GI's wanted whisky, they got it, consequence, massive row with landlord, 'I was strafed by German aircraft in 1940, don't take the p###'. He was very reluctant to go in there for years afterwards, even when it was my stag night in 1977, you could tell, he felt uncomfortable.
I'll get more info off my mum when I ring her tomorrow, daren't upset her day, she's 92 and an absolute gem.
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'I'm sure he was Mr Dainty, but thats not what we've come to see'.
Quote:- Ripping Yarns, Golden Gordon, what a trap to fall into, are you for real.
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If you delve a little deeper than the "pop" on Motown, Baby Love, Onion Song, My Guy etc, you will indeed find some real soul.
Sorry but Ayupmeducks has just told us that Motown wasn't about soul music, I'm confused here, what was it all about then.
I know, I'm in one of my git moods, but it all started at school. We always thought that Tamla was manipulating it's position and that more interesting stuff was availiable on other labels, what really astonished me was 'Talking Book' by Stevie Wonder, a masterpiece and so different from some of the trite rubbish that Motown was putting out at the time, it must have kicked their backsides into touch.
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Being swayed by the advert, my parents had a Cyril Lord carpet put down the stairs and landing in 1963.
Luxury you could afford!!!!!
You bet, the bloody thing is as perfect now as was when it was delivered, despite being abused by teenagers and the associated vomit, wasn't that his problem, luxury you could afford but not his manufacturing base, didn't they go bust because their quality really was too good for the price.
The advert that really wants me to kick in the telly at the moment is that grinning little Oriental bloke with the unfortunate haircut, transferring to our loveable amatuer Halifax Bank manager pretending to surf and sing at the same time, I hope they both drown. Have they got no sensibilities to keep showing this crap at this time, who do Halifax think they are, do they reckon that our sad grinning friendly pals will keep the world economy alive.
Ever been to Halifax by the way, how to prove a point by destroying a lovely Victorian town with an overblown self indulgent piece of self opinionated crap of a naff building, I'd sooner get a mortgage from the Pykies down the road.
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When it came down he threw himself the wrong way?
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There's a few that would argue with you regarding the Notts Forest thing ............
I hate the expression, those bloody TV pundits still say Notts Forest sometimes, the worst perpertrator of all used to be Bob Wilson, though he said it so often I reckon it was deliberate, well he came from Chesterfield didn't he, what do you expect.
Did you know his middle name was Primrose by the way, honest, it's true, what a cross to have to bear throughout your life, imagine having to put that on your job application form.
Now there's a thought, Robin Primrose Hood, Earl of Loxley, sounds good doesn't it, don't tell Russell Crowe though, it might put him off his new role.
Does anyone know if Bryan Adams is writing the soundtrack.
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Thats amazing, it has more content than we see on TV, we are just subject to what they have time for, sad, isn't it.
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No songs, no catchwords, the current Hovis advert is amazing, look out for it, I reckon it's the best advert I've ever seen, along with the Smirnoff ad with the Lancs and stuff coming out of the sea, and I hate the bloody adverts, they drive me mad, I try and watch any BBC channel to avoid this crap, it's appalling and often insulting to whatever you are watching.
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A very good comment, it's a habit I've aquired from my son at Uni, I shall take your point and never use the phrase again if you find it so offensive. A pity, I always thought it was quite endearing, along with Notts Forest, nothing wrong with that is there????
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Motown wasn't SOUL music, it was a distinct style of it's own as is COUNTRY, and COUNTRY ROCK, and ROCKABILLY.
One cannot "lump" soul and motown together in the same catagory.
Please read again, that's what Stax was all about, I never suggested it applied to Motown, though they like to think it did, lets shudder to think of the ugly starch haired annorexic Diana Ross and the Supreme team, didn't they consider themselves soul then, I think they did, whatever you thought it meant, oops sorry, are we talking Rythm and Blues here though, wasn't that the Stones and now a category applied to any wailing crap currently called dance music.
I forgot to mention Atlantic records either, they were pretty good, some nice stuff and a bit more adventurous too, unfortunately they were brave enough to take on artists such as Led Zeppelin, had to promote the changing times after all, pity you couldn't bop down the Penny Farthing to 'Communication Breakdown', well you could, except they were still playing 'Baby Love' 10 years after it was released, they didn't know any better, well it was Motown and not 'Soul', it obviously made all the difference.
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Please find me ANY ex football player, whoever they are, or played for, or however doubtfully educated, could produce an emotive piece like that. Dave, you were never a regular first team player, but you did your bloody best for the team, and did it well, whenever I saw you. The article is a little stilted, but it is the dogs, no one could have done it better, well done, a proper, understanding tribute from someone who was part of the Sirrell set up, I applaud you both.
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Let us not forget the late great Errol Flynn, an Anglo/Australian/Irishman/American, who hid in Hollywood during the war, while his mate, David Niven came back here by whatever means to fight for his country of origin, he was forced back into films because of his talent for acting and, though he wanted to 'Kill the Bosch', and had fiddled himself as an officer in a tank regiment, he wasn't allowed to do it, quite right too, he was a very lovely bloke whose best roles were as someone helping to entertain people, however much he detested it. How can you forget the 'First of the Few' or 'A Matter of Life and Death'.
Over the years I have to admit to getting peed off with Robin Hood movies and TV series, the best Robin Hood was John Cleese in the 'Time Bandits', no doubt Notty folks thought it was a p1$$ take, well it was, about time too.
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Shock horror, I've contacted them and they've drained my bank account, well what a thing, my 50p might buy them the next Don Masson, sort out the problem with a few ships in the Indian Ocean and Notts could be challenging for the Championship Title in the next few years, My Arse, scratch scratch.
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Motown!!!!!
An insult to the memory of Stax, no comparison, the artists on Motowns pop based lable should have curled up and died when Otis appeared, there was no way that these sickly Top of the Pops artists could compare to what Stax were putting out, that was real SOUL music.
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Well, thats better, TFC have got their list sorted out at last, where's their Gladiator, possibly off to Old Warden instead.
No nasty Germans on the flying programme though, sad really, are you aware of the ridiculous story of the Fw190.
A company in Germany called Flugwerke have been producing brand new Fw 190's, essentially identical but with a Chinese copy engine and a brand new airframe.
Tom Blair an American with Euro interests, recieved his DX example 2 years ago, but the CAA won't approve it to fly, so despite it's stunning appearance and modern technology, it's stuffed, it can taxi about, but that's it. If it had been a recovered, destroyed airframe with the resemblance of it's original engine, that would have been ok in the CAA's books, wierdoes, it doesn't make sense.
So for the past two years worth of airshows at DX, this beautiful beast has been sitting forlorn on the sidelines, it will probably be the same on saturday. Eventually, matey will take it back to the States where they will allow it to fly, a sad loss because of our our beurocracy, not surprising though is it, they try and stuff everything and everybody, don't tell me about it, I have my problems with them at the moment, scumbags.
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Looking at some of the spelling on here, I'm not surprised that your reports were bad.
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He actually wrote Winslow (Bucks, Terrence Rattigan etc)
Equally, could have been Wimborne (Dorset, Thos Hardy etc), Winscombe (North Som), Wincanton (South Som,'osses), Windsor (as in Castle) or even Winster (Derbys) 
Winsomely,
Robt P.
Don't forget Wansford near Peterborough, Wattisham in Suffolk, or Wiveliscombe near Taunton, how many small towns have two such significant breweries, one of my fave places, had I won the Euro Lottery on friday, I would have moved there today, and of course paid for Beefy to move to St Annes and get himself some dreadlocks, he deserves the honour.
Lets excuse the poor old boy, this Jimmy Sirrell and Vulcan stuff must be getting to him. Actually he deserves a medal for struggling through the odds to get to Meadow Lane on saturday, I applaud him for that.
Wellingborough, Whatstandwell, Witham, Wallingford, Wirksworth, Whatton, Worthing, Wymondham, Worksop, Wollaton, Welney, Whitby, Workington, West Runton, Whithnail and I, the list is endless, he could be anywhere.
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Nice pics, they've always been funny about taking pictures in grounds, even back in the 60's and 70's, if they're for private use, which these obviously are, ahem, I can't see the problem.
One question, who are the three 'old' boys in the photo, is one my hero Les Bradd, he was there surely.
I struggled through the appalling County web site to find the attendance and was quite shocked, considering the size of the city, 6000+ was a drop in the ocean. Looking at the pics, the enormous gaps on that lovely ground were very sad. Given the national publicity, I gather that the Independant had a full page obituary, and it has been much mentioned on Sky Sport, it just shows you what a lack of respect for sport people have in Notty, it's an opinion I've always held, OK when whichever team are doing well, they can bask in self glorification, like if they have the rarity of an Olympic gold medalist.
On the other hand, if the club had not been so greedy and made it a special Jimmy Sirrell day with reduced admission fees, even the Forest fans might have turned up, I don't know how much was made of this between the Evening Post and the club, so I shouldn't comment really, but it could have been a day to remember.
Incidentally, I think this clapping lark is wierd, it must be some Americanism, like the roadside flowers at car crashes. Lets get back to the 2 minutes silence and peoples private thoughts, it seems more respectful to me.
Are there any plans for a Jimmy Sirrell memorial match, it could be an interesting combination of things, but please not a ritual County V Forest, Jimmy deserves much better than that.
Just to lighten things up, remember the worlds greatest Notts fan, Percy. He always stood in the wooden stand with his Brylcreemed hair, demob coat and surrounding fans and admirers. His enjoyment of the game was to insult every player, of both teams, and be generally obnoxious, he was like Al Read on acid.
Quite frankly, it was a joy to stand near this bloke, anything could happen, I think he was dissapointed when Jimmy Sirrell took over and the team became succesful, he could no longer complain about Charlie Crickmore, the genius winger who would run and run and be too knackered to cross the ball at the end of it, and whovever Percy chose to point his manevolent vocals at, they suffered the consequences.
He had a hatred of Allen Mullery, who once got so annoyed with Percy's comments during a match, that he attempted to climb over the barrier to sort him out and had to be restrained by the ref.
The greatest moment ever was when Mick Rose, the fabled goalie, fell writhing on the floor during a goalmouth incident. Percy's comment, 'Give him a kiss ref and he'll be alright'.
Ref walks up to Percy and says, 'Come down here and I'll give you a bloody kiss'.
Thats what football was all about, but what happened to Percy, is he an old boy sitting in a retirement home regretting his insults, did he ever forgive Jimmy Sirrell for ruining his fun.
I recall bumping into him in the Central Market and seeing him being totally humbled and nagged by his wife, it was very amusing, I bet he's probably passed on now, but who knows. God help Jimmy Sirrell if there is an afterlife and he bumps into this bloke, Jimmy will probably arrange something and be back on track down here next week, refreshed, rejuvenated, away from Percy, and be ready to go.
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In hind site his agent (If he had one ) probably didn't see any repeats being likely and opted for the larger slice of the pie to feather his own nest in the first place.
I take it you are referring to Fred Dibnah.
He actually died leaving an estate worth £1m, by all accounts, and I'm only quoting what I've read here, and it's difficult to work out the real truth, family squables just before his death caused the will to be changed and his last wife receiving nothing, the bulk of the dosh going to his first wife and kids safely ensconced in the tax haven of the Isle of Man.
Great rifts appeared between the various ex-wives and so called friends and true friends. The result was Sheila being chucked out of his house by court order and the place being left to it's own devices while writs were being hurled about. Meanwhile the place was ransacked by Pykies and other criminal filth while the local authority and other organisations, who should have secured it's future as a heritage site, stood by and did nothing.
Consequently, his true mates that you saw in the last Dibnah series, along with Sheila, took matters into their own hands removed the treasured steam engines and remaining artifacts, risking prosecution one Christmas day, they've been hidden at a secret location for their own protection ever since.
Meanwhile the house, complete with Freds famous ladders and now rotting land rover were put up for auction, but were withdrawn. Nothing has since happened, I presume the place is now even more vandalised.
It's a bloody tragedy of greed, family squabbles and legal crap thats resulted in one of Britains greatest industrial collections by a much loved individual to have been lost for ever.
I'm just waiting for the place to be opened up as the Fred Dibnah bloody curry house, it would be the last nail in the coffin wouldn't it.
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I'm jealous Hippogirl - I was going to ask if anyone went to the Wings gig on 9th Feb 1972!
Not me :-(
I understand it was at very short (hours) notice, and word rattled around the campus like wildfire. How did you get to hear about it? How was the gig?
According to Macartney, they chucked a load of gear in a van and headed up the M1, it was going to be his first live performance since 'Get Back' on the roof top at Saville Row.
I gather they had breakfast at Leicester Forest East, where they decided to find a big Uni to play, so he went to a call box and phoned Notty Union, I recall the social secretary at the time was a girl who didn't believe it was him and more or less told Macca to p### off, it wasn't until they arrived at the back of the Portland building just before lunch time that everyone thought it was just a big hoax.
Meanwhile, the story got on to Radio Nottingham and my mother, bless her phoned me at work to tell me that Wings were due on at the Portland building, unfortunately she didn't tell me it was a lunchtime concert.
I phoned my mates and set off over there after work at 5:30 in our fabled Austin Champ.
We desperately wandered round the Uni but all we could find was an old time dancing class, assuming it had been a hoax, it wasn't until we went down to the Buttery Bar for a pint of Newccy Brown that we found out the true story.
My mother was not popular for a while.
Meanwhile, they also turned up later at Manchester Uni, my mate up there said they were crap, so it softened the blow a bit.
Long Gone Railways
in Pete's Nottingham Transport Forum
Posted
An interesting one. I try and trace routes of old railways on Google Earth, in this case, it's extremely difficult. I started from Kimberley GN station, still there I think, and worked east, it's ok till you get to the Bulwell bypass then all trace has gone. You can just about work out where Bagthorpe junction was, but only because I knew where it branched off, I believe one of the original bridges is still there.
The Midland line is the same, starting again at the old station, is it still there? I worked east but the trail ran out at Bulwell bypass again.
What is that wierd structure between the course of the 2 railways alongside the Bulwell bypass, above Nuthall roundabout, I thought it was something to do with Hucknall, it looks like a testing site for Saddam Husseins supergun.
In the mid 60's we used to try and walk or cycle the routes of the abandoned railways. I recall succesfully negotiating the whole of the route of the Midland line to Kimberley, finding the bunker at Watnall and going through the tunnel which is now blocked up. The bridge near the brewery still had the original Midland cast number plate on it which is now displayed in my shed, a long way from home.
We only partly walked the GN route, I recall there were sidings next to the junction north of Nuthall where the brickworks line branched off, which you can still see on Google Earth.
We walked the entire Pinxton branch after it had been abandoned, including crossing Awsworth Viaduct, rescueing GN bridge number 1 off it which is also in the shed along with various artifacts including posters, handbills and signs from Awsworth and Eastwood, both places of which had been wrecked and vandalised even back then.
It was a sad period in the mid 60's, seeing all these lines abandoned and left, the stations, goods sheds and signal boxes being allowed to be smashed to pieces and all those treasures lost, well, not all of them, a lot of the history of our local lines resides in my shed.