firbeck
-
Content Count
3,518 -
Joined
-
Last visited
-
Days Won
3
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Calendar
Posts posted by firbeck
-
-
It's bad news re XH558 and Duxford
Quote:XH558 Will Miss End of Season Party
The Autumn Airshow at the Imperial War Museum at Duxford, which this year is taking place on Sunday 5th October, traditionally brings down the curtain on the season. It is always a joyous and celebratory occasion and Vulcan to the Sky had hoped to make it even more special this year by bringing XH558 to the party. Unfortunately this will not now be possible due to technical problems with her No 2 engine.
I shall still be going though
We will still have the Patrouille de France or whatever they are called and four Spits plus loads of other good stuff
Do you want my honest opinion Beefsteak. Forget it. It's a hell of a way for you to travel, the admission fee is high, the flying programme is short because of the time of year, it also gets bloody cold as well. Theres nothing like crashing in your chair on a warm summers evening and watch everyone battle to get out, but it isn't like that in October.
4 spitfires is nothing compared to what is based there and so many other residents don't seem to be getting an airing, the TFC are being a bit canny about what they are going to fly, if they do.
The Patrouilles de France are great and it's a bit of a coup to get them there, I haven't seen them since 1997 at Mildenhall, one of the best airshows I ever attended, but they don't make an airshow on their own.
It's always a bit of a lottery to attend this show, it's OK for me, I live down the road, but I'm having doubts about it myself.
If you insist on going, let me know, we'll meet up and I'll give you a guided tour, though I always leave my desicions to the last minute.
-
How strange, I only said in a posting the other day in comparison to Clough that he was at least, still alive.
Remember how some of us kids used to go to see Forest in the late 60's when they were a force to be reckoned with, then you could swallow your pride, crawl through the gap in the fence and see the likes of Brian Bates and the terrible Stan Marshall, sadly going through the motions until the great man appeared.
Imagine that, a 4th division team with a style of play and a mid field that was unbielavable to watch, it truly was amazing, his acumen at signing gifted players that other teams had rejected was beyond belief. I shall never forget how, with a sadly depleted team, he took on the mighty Leeds at Eland Road and treated them to a humiliating defeat, and an exercise in what football was all about, I was there that night, it was a moment to savour in the annals of footballing history, but forgotten about, as usual. by the media.
Good old boy, not appreciated by the powers that be, but surely one of the greatest managers that ever lived, how he never got into the top flight was beyond me.
RIP old pal, you deserve it
-
How could we forget the Vinegar Joe concert, Elkie Brooks in her hot pants revealing THOSE thighs I recall and Robert Palmer in his suit. I had a mate from Trent Poly who's obsession was taking pictures of bands, he had incredibly long hair, oddly enough his name was Joe. I remember cringing with embarresment as he stood on everyone to get THAT picture.
Please Joe, read this and tell us that your pictures are on the cover of Hello Magazine.
Can someone else step in here and tell us of your Uni concert highlights or I could go on all day.
How about Loudon Wainright III winding himself up in the little room downstairs by talking to himself and oblivious to the fact that I was sat in there watching him, his performance of Red Guitar was amazing, there you go, we'll start off with an obscure reference, the big bands weren't always the best, remember the half dozen people that turned up to see the Average White Band, well 4 of them were us.
Can someone start the ball rolling please.
-
You put your finger on it, Mick.
Maybe the issue really has nothing to do with distance, but rather to change and our growing resistance to it as we age. Perhaps we also tend to think of things in the past as being far better than they really were. After all, we can't have been that happy or we wouldn't have moved.
Dave
Not too sure about that last sentence, I moved because I had to, otherwise I would have happily stayed in the city, in fact after a year of living down here, I was so fed up with it that I tried to move back. The thing was, my missus to be, well for a time, graduated from Nottingham Uni and found it hard to get a job, she came from Yorkshire anyway. She went for interviews all over the country and ended up being offered a job by RHM agriculture on the proviso that it could be anywhere.
In the end it was Great Dunmow, Essex. She got a damn good, well paid job and her lovely boss pulled a few strings and got me a job in Chelmsford with one of his land agent cronies.
Thats when the problems started, because the bloke was a complete git, I really felt a stranger in a strange land, my aversion to Chelmsford still exists, its my nearest major town but I seldom go there. It wasn't until I got a job with a great crowd of structural engineers that I settled down, but I used to go back to Nottingham on a regular basis and wonder why the hell I left.
Funnily enough, when my old man used to come down, he loved it here, he reckoned it was the last surviving bastion of true original England, he had a point, we have no racial tensions, it's an area of pretty villages and antique shops. I was pleased to move last year into Braintree, a real town, from a cream tea village where I had lived for 20 years. Great, we get police sirens, helicopters seeking out the drug dealers in the park up the road, tattood thugs taking their Staffies for a walk, sounds a wierd thing to say, but I've enjoyed getting back into the real world, but then again, it's still not the same as the problems in Notty, the tattood thugs taking their Staffies for a walk are my pals, we share an interest in dogs, good talking point, I even chat to the junkies and lager louts that hang out down the river, they know I'm a harmless symphathetic old git, sort of, I have a secret relationship with the drug squad, but then again, it's good to talk, I've never once felt threatened here.
-
I was there that night, and many others. That was also the stage where I got kissed on the cheek by Sonja Kristina :-) Good posting Firbeck - love the Portland Building memories.
Hmmmm, I remember the 'Curved Air' concert, some scumbags in front of us were being totally obnoxious, threatening people, p###ing all over the place and generally being appalling, we had to threaten to kill them before order was restored, we meant it to, they suffered as a consequence, I bet they are chartered accountants or government advisors now.
-
Actually, some pubs don't change. Living in Wollaton, our local used to be the Admiral Rodney, it was a convenient meeting place for all of us pals. I started off underage drinking Home Ales mild and playing darts in the public bar then graduated to what we called the 'little room' in the lounge. I went in there regularly until I moved down here in 1976, I finally had my stag night in there in 77, it seemed appropriate. I didn't go in again till the mid 90's when we went to see the Pogues in Wollaton Park, it hadn't changed at all, after 20 years the landlord actually recognised me without any prompting, I was well impressed with my reception.
I didn't go in there again until a few months ago, I took my son to show him the scene of many of my misadventures, I couldn't believe it when I walked in, it had hardly changed at all, apart from the beer, no more Home Ales, but some decent real ales though. The decor and everything about it was the same, I even recognised some of the locals, I was quite surprised, bearing in mind how much the Broad Oak has changed. Just one big difference, no more waiter service, remember George, what a nice bloke he was.
Having obtained his degree, my son loves Nottingham so much that he's staying up there in order to do a years teacher training course to become a science teacher, sensible idea. Him and his mates are renting a cottage opposite the White Hart in Lenton, he reckons the bikers still go there.
I have been invited up to his birthday in November, so I intend to make the most of it.
He's got a part time job at Ocean, or as we knew it, The Sherwood Rooms, I gather it's going to be swept away as part of the Broad Marsh redevelopment, he took great delight in telling the staff that I went there to see The Faces and my brother to see Jimi Hendrix, I couldn't get a ticket, I'll never forgive him for that, I'll never forgive Hendrix for passing away either when I was due to go and see Derek and the Dominoes there, Clapton cancelled the gig to attend Jimi's funeral in Seattle.
One really sad change is to the Portland Building at Uni, where the famous bands played is now a cafe, they don't do it anymore. I went up there with my yoof, sat in the cafe and said, thats the window ledge I stood on to see Mark Bolan, here was the stage where Captain Beefhart said the famous phrase 'Too many Fans and not enough Fans', the position of the sound desk where I had my run in with Procul Harum. Down to the bar where the Who's sound system was so powerful that the glasses jingled.
All gone, the poor students have to pay extra to go to Rock City instead, not right is it, but then again, in my student days, I was involved with the concert organisation and we could get anyone, get this, Black Sabbath for £50, beat that.
-
1
-
-
The Fred Dibnah story is appalling, but nobody seems to care, the TV companies ramble on as if nothing has happened, something should be done about what has happened to the life of this great man, it's all so very sad.
-
Many of you on this forum, like me, no longer live in 'The City of Dreams'. Do many of you go back very often, how do you view the place if you do.
I was born in Wollaton in 1950, I had a great childhood, I went on to Bilborough Grammar, surfed the pubs in the late 60's, lurked around the Boat Club, the Uni, the Poly, had a lot of fun, had a missing period when I went to college then came back for 5 years, lived life to the full, thoroughly enjoyed it then ended up Daan Saaf.
Ever since, it's been difficult to get involved, you go and spend the odd weekend with your parents and do what they want you to do, it's not the same.
Unbelievably, my Essex son chose to go to Nottingham University, I've visited, but it's not the same is it. He takes control, I've been on a pub crawl but it's like going to the moon, I've had my moments, but things are so different. My best moment was on my last visit, I made him and his pals go for a hike up Mam Tor in a blizzard, they loved it, but it doesn't reconcile an old git with the fun pubs he once loved, they don't exist anymore, sad, but not unexpected is it.
So what are you 'expats' relationships with the place, is it on another planet, or what, I'd like to know what you think.
-
Sophisticated Cinderhill ladies don't drink pints
Cheers
Robt P.
Would that be Cinderhill in Northern Arizona Injun country, you'd be surprised what those damned Apaches like to shove down their necks, it used to be Kimberley Gold, but I hear that a raiding party led by Red Sleeves is on it's way to that pesky Greene King brewery at Bury St Edmunds, lets hope they do us all proud before the white eyes intervene.
-
Sorry Bazzer, thinking about it, it sounds as if wer'e sharing the same boat, we both live in so called privileged areas, and are possibly suffering as a consequence. You are right, a penny here, a penny there, how far do you go. The Clough family, I would have thought, are, probably, particularly in comparison to us, pretty well off, how much are they prepared to put towards a statue of their erstwhile leader, I'm not up with the politics of the situation, as usual, a bit like Big Ead, my immediate gob gets in the way.
Isn't life wonderful when you are scrabbling about for survival mate, PM me with your story.
-
As you live in Gods country of Cornwall, it's not your penny is it. Enjoy your surfing today.
-
I'm utterly overcome, I just listened to it, God knows when I heard it last, it still cracked me up.
What particularly made me laugh was the reference to the French Engine at Calais, I had the same experience at Boulogne, I was only a kid at the time but my experience must have been primed by that record, I even have a photo of the event, when I finally get to grips with Photobucket, I'll publish it.
I didn't realise that the man had featured in such a big way in Hollywood and in some notable films too, he was even in the Monkees TV series!!!!
If you ever get the chance, watch him in 'Clippers of the Clouds', it was an American/Canadian wartime propoganda film, made before the US joined in the war and starring James Cagney. The thing is, it was shot in colour, it's probably the only record of famous British aircraft such as Battles and Blenheims to be seen in colour. What a man, I had no idea.
Thanks for your research, I owe you a pint, something of my childhood now stored in this electronic thing that in the days when I used to listen to this record would have been the stuff of science fiction.
-
If people want a statue of Cloughie,,,,, or Lord Snooty,,,,, or anyone else,,,,, Great !
Collect donations &/or get the like minded people to chip in for it.
As for putting taxes up to pay for it - NO WAY.
I don't have a problem with people doing what they want with their own money,,,,,, but there are more important things to spend MY tax on,,,, like helping me to live for instance !
Sorry old pal, I see you are about to take flying lessons, my heart bleeds for your inability to put a penny on your council tax payments, for whatever reason, it must be a struggle to live and pay for flying lessons at the same time, I'm devastated at your misfortune in life.
-
Jimmy Sirrell isn't dead yet, a great manager though, but apart from the Nottingham Evening Post, his name wasn't exactly spread all over the national media. Perversly, I could imagine a statue of him appearing outside Meadow Lane on his demise without question, assuming they can find enough fans to cough up.
Incidentally Ashley, you talk about getting gongs for the sick and infirm, Sirrell should qualify for that, how he managed to turn around that sad team in the late 60's was one of the greatest miracles in football, what Cloughie did with Forest in the 70's was amazing, but at least, as you say, he could turn round unknowns and has beens, you could see some of the talented players that they had pre Clough, remember the Man City cup victory, they just wanted kicking up the backside by the right person with a few subtle injections of new players.
Sirrell on the other hand inherited a team of no hopers, apart from Needham, Stubbs and Les Bradd, but he knew he could build a team around these people on sod all money, and thats what he did to the point that he could convince the management to cough up for Tony Hateley, a complete waste of space really, but a good publicity exercise. Remember Hatelelys first match, against Bournemouth, the great striking force of McDougall and Boyer, 27,000 turned up that day, it was amazing, thank god he substituted Hateley for Bradd, who I always reckon as one of Nott's great heroes.
Sorry, I digress, how did you manage to pick up the fact that Robert Shaw was in the Dambusters, IMDB me suspects.
-
I did manage to find out more about the story on the net, yes, it does sound a little suspicious.
Seems a bit odd why someone with such a small family wanted to live in such a large house, but at least money has been spent on the fabric of the building to preserve it, for whatever reason, and from whatever source, sounds a good method of saving some of our endangered country mansions to me.
If you surf around the net there is quite a bit of info and old photos on the hall itself, well worth looking up. Many years ago I used to hang out with some of the girls from the old grammar school, I'm sure they told me about some ghostly experiences, but it's too long ago to remember what they were.
I've never been a great believer in ghost stories, but then again, I've had a few unexplained experiences.
My first house was a lovely Victorian terraced cottage in Witham, Essex. I never had a problem with it, but my then missus, who was also a cynic about ghost stories, kept waking up in the night and seeing a Victorian woman and a little girl standing in the corner of the bedroom. I never saw anything, but it freaked her out and so we put the house on the market. Meanwhile, my next door neighbour, a young, party going typical youth, who took the mickey out of my missus over her experiences, woke up one night to find a black sheet attempting to strangle him, he was so distressed that he knocked on our door at 2:00am and we had to put him up in the spare bedroom.
He sold up as well.
My next house was a 17th century cottage, asking for trouble. We never had any wierd experiences in there, but my old man always felt uncomfortable when he came to stay, he was a bit that way inclined, he reckoned all sorts of things were banging about at night, but it never bothered me.
Asking for even more trouble, we then moved to a pair of semi derelict cottages in Finchingfield that had once formed part of an old watermill. The most run down cottage was full of someones sad life when we moved in, he turned out to have been an old estate worker who had died in the house and remained undiscovered for a while. I must admit it was a bit wierd in there, but once it was gutted and redesigned, I never had any strange experiences, apart from seeing the Northern Lights one night, eat your heart out Joanna Lumley.
My last house, an old police station, was perfectly all right until my father died. As I said, he was that way inclined, on the immediate aftermath of his death, we had some very wierd and unexplained happenings, they were very odd, but we weren't frightened by them, the last lingerings of one of the great and good in the ether I reckon.
-
Perhaps we should consider what has happened to the memory of the late great Fred Dibnah in his home town and compare the two.
For all his many faults, Cloughie did put Nottingham on the map, it wasn't just about football either, he was a national institution, well, for just being Cloughie.
All the great footballing success happened after I'd moved down to Essex, it didn't stop here, everyone talked about him all the time. I remember going to watch Forest play Ipswich at Portman Road, my neighbour hadn't a lot of interest in football, he just loved Mr Clough. He insisted on coming to the match with me just so he could see the man in the flesh. I recall getting a place on the front next to the dugout, old 'Big head' came along the touchline, he must have been in a good mood, talking to the crowd and signing autographs, this was in the Ipswich side by the way, even they loved him. My mate was overcome, he didn't watch the match, just Brians antics at the side of the pitch. Quite frankly, he was the only football manager, that, come rain or shine, whoever you supported, whatever you did, or where you lived, everyone loved him, because of his eccentricities or whatever, the only other football manager that to me has come close in terms of public affection was Matt Busby, and that was for obvious reasons. In some ways, I'm glad he never became England manager, whoever I talk to, Spurs, Arsenal, Braintree United, they all think he should have done, but by not doing so, it's perpertrated the myth of what might have been.
Not putting up a statue to the man is unthinkable, I'm sure that a penny on the council tax to pay for it wouldn't be a problem, get on with it Nottingham, put him next to Robin Hood, just don't ask Tracey Emin to tender for the job.
This is what happened to Fred Dibnah, great man, stalwart of Bolton, but what did those scumbags at the council did for his memory.
You still see his programmes repeated on many channels, but I can't watch them anymore.
His fantastic house and industrial heritage were ignored by the council as a museum, they didn't want to know, a scheme for a statue was also ignored by the local council.
His wife was chucked out of the house, it was left to be vandalised. Most of his artifacts were stolen, the house has been constantly raided. All those lovely drawings that you see on the TV have gone, ignoring legal battles, his mates took away his steam engines, lacking all their stolen plates. His famous old landrover was left to rot, it's probably been torched by now.
The house was eventually put up for auction by typically money grabbing agents, a glitch in a site plan has left it's sale suspended for a year and it's probably been wrecked even more.
Meanwhile, his wife Sheila, without council help, raised herself enough money for a statue. The council wanted to shove it away from the town centre, outside a derelict church and opposite Tesco's, nice place to honour the memory of a great British Hero.
Eventually, sanity prevailed and the statue, paid for by the public, was erected in Bolton Town Centre, quite right too.
As for the rest of this great man's life, it's become a shambles, think of that when you watch the next repeated episodes about this truly great Briton, his memory totally destroyed in his home town, that amazing workshop and industrial museum he created, all gone, what a bloody disgrace, it was a unique place, just ignored by the powers that be. It should be one of the Heritage sites of this country, they probably shoved the money into a Bolton Ethnic Centre instead, makes you puke doesn't it.
-
1
-
-
Well, I saw it published on BBC Teletex the other day, I did a bit of surfing yesterday and couldn't find out much more.
Whats the full story then. My son is on a teacher training course at Clifton and reckoned he was going to have a sniff around, he could turn into a gibbering idiot by all accounts.
-
Very true...
The marked area also extended from Kilvington to Barkestone-in-the-Vale.
Many bomb craters are testimony to the value of the exercise...don't suppose the old Duke would have been too bothered about the welfare of his dispersed tenant farmers, so long as Belvoir Castle stayed intact.
Numerous documents on the subject are in the local reference section of Bingham library...
Cheers
Robt P.
Interesting, my old man always reckoned that the site was situated in such a position that it was the same distance from Nottingham to Derby, ie, if a raid was planned on both cities, the fields would cop Nottinghams load and Nottingham would cop Derby's allocation. He always maintained that the major Nottingham raid was meant for Derby because of this, which was why the bombs landed on the eastern side of the city, he always reckoned they were really after Derby loco works and Rolls Royce.
Seems unlikely to me, I doubt whether the Germans were so easily fooled and it's unlikely that one industrial city would be sacrificied for another. Mind you, there are dreaded conspiracy theories regarding the bombing of Coventry, so who knows.
Incidentally, were there ever any raids on Stanton Ironworks. It was such a huge site with two sets of blast furnaces and the coke ovens, always lit up like a christmas tree at night, difficult to disguise that, even in wartime. I recall some of the buildings were painted in camo paint, especially one near Stanton Gate Station, it always made me smile considering the enormity of the huge smoking, burning furnaces nearby.
-
Joking aside, were there many measures taken to defend Nottingham in 1940.
A few years ago an organisation was set up called The Defence of Britain who's aim was to plot every pillbox, spigot mortar position etc, etc across Britain, you can see their results on Google Earth.
Interestingly, very few sites are marked around Nottingham, whereas down this part of the world, it was like an armed camp, obviously to defend London at all costs.
When I was a kid, I used to play in a concrete pillbox near Balloon Woods crossroads, it's still there, NW of the junction sitting isolated in a field, it looks very vulnerable and exposed to me, whoever decided to put it there must have had suicidal tendencies, the Stukas would have had a field day. I can't see what tactical reason it had for it's existance, hiding it in Balloon Woods would have made more sense, the trees would have provided cover for defending troops as well.
The Oracle on such matters, my late great father, reckoned that a site was set up in fields between Bingham and Bottesford, that represented the city pattern of Nottingham, and that the area was torched when an incoming raid came in, thus dropping bombs in open fields rather than on populated areas, couldn't have done much for the local badger population though.
Does anyone know of this.
-
My brother was a cheeky sod, he would blatantly walk into the airfield from the footpath along the slagheaps, I remember him climbing into the cockpit of the Spitfire.
[/quote
His name wasn't Franz Von Werra by any chance? For those famililar
Nice one, afraid it wasn't, nor his false identification of Van Lott either, I thought that matey tried to steal a Hurricane anyway.
-
You may be interested to know that Cliff is still alive and living on the Isle of Wight, June Metcalf died in 2000, they remained married to the end.
-
Does anyone remember this little story.
Pre Radio One, and the Pirates, the only thing really worth listening to on the radio was 'Saturday Club' with good old Brian Matthew. As those old gits like me can recall, it was a platform for the success of the Beatles, it was the only live media where they could not only entertain us with their music, but with their natural wit, charm and repartee as well, no-one could compare to them at the time, old BM loved it.
I recall one day some typical sombre voiced BBC school tie operative announced that experiments were to be carried out in 'Stereophonic Sound' on Saturday Club.
The cunning plan was that you tuned your radio to one frequency and your telly to another, voila, we have instant Hi-Fi.
Unfortunately, our massive bakelite radio installed under the equally massive bakelite TV didn't produce the required effect, apart from that, our old man wasn't very impressed with all this fiddling about with the telly, he thought he would lose the Billy Cotton Band Show forever.
What happened, remember the Co-Op assembly rooms opposite near where Gee Dees now lives, or they did the last time I went that way, George Street?
They set up a massive sound system in the Hall, huge speakers on the stage. My brother dragged me over there and we sat in the seats and listened to Saturday Club on this awesome sound system, bouncing around the room, absolutely incredible, did anyone else experience this or am I dreaming. I recall at another time they set up a surround sound system, and once I went to a lecture there by the film maker Tony Palmer, who introduced a film with amazing sound of Creams last performance.
Any one recall any of this happening, were you there, I would be interested to know.
-
I bought my son a cheapo Beko wide screen telly, many years ago. It's a big old thing, no doubt very crude and so old that it's not even a flat screen, I reckon it's screen has a comparison with the curvature of the earth as seen from outer space.
Quite frankly, it's been all over the place, mistreated, dumped in damp garages, in and out of student houses in Lenton, carted about in the back of cars up and down the country, plugged in and out of various computer consoles, hitched up to Sky, generally abused to it's limits.
Do you know what, the damn thing is as perfect now as when it was new, I don't think that even the batteries have been changed in the handset, we may have been lucky, but whatever you may say about Beko, this telly has been the dogs, worth more than every penny. I obtained a Sony for ourselves at about the same time, the bu99er blew up one Christmas Eve, the good old Beko stood in for us over Christmas until we bought a decent Panasonic, what a gorgeous telly that has proved to be, big old cathode ray production, but if it works, why get rid, even if it takes up half the living room.
Sorry, this was meant to be a good advert for Beko, yes, no comparison with fridge freezers, but if one of their products is a gem, then don't tar the others with the same brush.
Have you tried the hairdryer yet, it always works.
-
I like a man who recognises his shortcomings.
Differences of appinions make interesting reading, but it should go no further than that.
I particularly enjoyed reading your recent input to Nottstalgia
And thats what I say
Thanks for that, but please look at your spelling.
Sorry!!!
An Expats view of Nottingham
in OLD MAPS OF NOTTINGHAM
Posted
Absolutely incredible to read of your lack of facilities, I would say that Braintree and Winslow were about the same size, our population is 35,000.
The thing that endeared me to this place 30 years ago was it's similarity to a 'Northern Industrial Town'. We had Crittall Windows, Courtaulds Mills, Lake and Elliot and Rayne Foundries, the town centre was very reminiscent of Ilkeston, very faded and a bit naff, but having the advantage of amazing medieaval streets like the one just down the alley from me, which I gather has more Listed Buildings than any other in East Anglia.
Things have changed and all the traditional industries have gone, Crittalls are just about hanging on in a small way, but all the Courtaulds Mills have been swept away and Rayne Foundry was knocked down only a few weeks ago.
On the other hand, we have a brand new swimming pool opened only a few months ago, next door to that a bowling alley, a superb new multiplex cinema too. The skateboard park in one of the many parks in the town is absolutely amazing, no crappy bits of earth bank, it's a custom designed stainless steel gem. The BMX track is next to the Equestrian and sports centre, currently being developed as a training base for the 2012 Olympics.
The town centre has a very tastefull little shopping mall, with some of the historic buildings preserved within it. The big selling point is Freeport, our own 'Designer Village', complete with it's own railway station, where else can you buy a pair of genuine Versace jeans for £20.
Nice place, brilliant chip shops too, but whatever the attractions and facilities, the kids still lurk on street corners, thinking they are misunderstood. We had a run in with some last night, they were arrogantly standing in the road when we came home, only about 13 too, message sent, 'Try that again old pal and we won't f###### slow down next time, is that understood'. Point taken, mind you, they know us and recognise the fact that we have kids older than them who will make their life hell if they don't comply. It's up to them.