jonab
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Posts posted by jonab
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14 hours ago, LizzieM said:
Dave the Cockle Man is still around as far as I know. I’ve seen him in recent months, although he’s not a well man.
There must have been a number of these cockle men. I well remember that many pubs had a visit on a Friday and it can't have been the same person at all of them. (This is memory of over 40 years ago). I always wondered what they did the rest of the week.
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On 13/07/2015 at 10:53 PM, Guest said:
Late getting back on this one!! Chulla?.. Was Guy Mitchell good? Would like to have see him!!
I remember seeing Guy Mitchell at the Empire. He had a nose bleed on stage. Blood everywhere. He tried to continue singing into a towel that was handed to him but it was soon soaked and he had to go off and be taken to hospital.
I don't remember the year but I was quite young.
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30 minutes ago, Compo said:
The cockle man in nottm pubs.....
I think modern hygiene regulations put paid to that. Mind you, I used to enjoy the Friday night visits by the Sally Ann and the cockle man. Always bought mussels, prawns and cockles from him.
I also recall some fella coming round with a big basket of filled cobs - beef, ham, cheese and so on. He had bottles of sauce and mustard with him - you could help yourself. Was that in Nottm or was it Kent? It was in the days before pubs sold food as a norm. (Thinking about it, though, if it was Kent, they would have been rolls, not cobs).
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Things that pee me off: Unsolicited phone calls that are totally irrelevant to anything you could possibly need. A current one here is for flood insurance. Because of the current flooding in Northern France, insurance companies are trading on people's fear and trying to sell their dubious products all over the country. Not only do I live in the South of France, nowhere near the flooded areas, I live part way up a mountainside - there's zero chance of suffering any effects from floods and even if there was, all the towns and cities on and near the coast would be long gone under water.
I understand there is the TPS in the UK but that is pretty toothless and cannot stop calls that originate overseas so, as many call centres are located in the Indian subcontinent, it's a waste of time.
(Hearing French spoken with a Peter Sellers "goodness gracious me" type of accent is hilarious)
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Just so you don't think that I consider France to be perfect, one of the big things that pee me off here is the state of the beaches - all the way from Cannes to Monte Carlo - and probably beyond there are notices up warning people not to walk barefoot because of cast-off syringes, sanitary towels and condoms plus loads of other unmentionable detritus left by the unspeakable unwashed the night before.
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That's reminded me of when I was young in Hucknall there was a woman who had a quite unpleasant looking little, squashed face dog (pug?) who would stand around while her dog performed its whatevers then took a toilet roll from her bag, wiped its bum and carefully placed the used tissue on top of the steaming pile.
Aren't there laws in the UK about dog fouling? Here in France, they are quite strict and there are on-the-spot fines for doggie misdemeanours.
I have two dogs and even though I live in what might be described as the back of beyond, I always ensure that we have doggie poo bags with us when we take them out - and we dispose of them properly and not throw them up into trees - which I heard that they do in England.
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You didn't know Jed did you? I can't explain further on here.
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Another two people that I never thought of as famous (because I knew them quite well) were Paul Smith, designer and Len Masterman, university professor.
Smith was a regular visitor to our flat next to the Grosvenor as he had a "thing" going with the girl I shared with. He wasn't famous then, he was just starting up and had a poky little shop in Byard Lane. Apparently, he now has 300 shops worldwide.
Regarding Masterman, he was also a regular at the flat, ostensibly for the same purpose as Smith - it wasn't a knocking shop, honest! His fame is somewhat more obscure than that of Smith but in his area of expertise, he is renowned worldwide.
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What did you expect, knowing his proclivities?
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Calladines - that's the name I remember for the factory on/near Albert Street. WRT Bucks being on Derbyshire Lane, that fits as well. It's coming back to me slowly that my aunt Nance worked at a shawl factory on Derbyshire Lane.
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When I lived next door to the Grosvenor I, together with other residents of the next door, often used to drink with Ray Gosling (and his then-boyfriend, Bryn Allsop (how apt that surname)). As he was just someone I had a drink with now and again, I never thought of him as being famous.
He always sat on the bay window seat in the front bar.
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He used to get a lot of air-time on Radio 4 correspondence programmes. His contributions always seemed rather vacuous. I well remember either John Humphries or Robert Robinson, not taking the proverbial but obviously thinking along the lines of "we've got a right one here."
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Away from the “fish in a barrel” aspect of meeting well-known people backstage at the Playhouse, others I have met include:
Margaret Lockwood at the top of Market Street. She asked if she was going in the right direction for Griffin & Spalding.
Eleanor Bron on Parliament St. Seemed like she’d been shopping at the Co-op as she bumped into me with her carrier bags and nearly knocked me flying.
Reg Varney wearing full stage make-up in a pub opposite Shire Hall (no longer there, very nice little pub, though). He was appearing in pantomime at the former Theatre Royal (before its conversion to what it is now) and getting tanked up on Scotch before going on stage. The theatre was just around the corner. I think the pub had a cue light connected to the theatre to let any stray performers know that the curtain was going up. Anyway, that’s beside the point. Nasty little (physically and figuratively) foul-mouthed cuss, pushing people away, including me, as he desperately tried to get out as he’d missed his cue.
I helped Tommy Trinder with the revolving doors of the Victoria Hotel (he was trying to go through clockwise when the doors worked the other way round). He then got into his Rolls Royce parked outside registration No. TT1.
Another Tommy I met much later was Tommy Cooper. I was walking down Gregory Boulevard and a car stopped beside me. The person in the passenger seat, Cooper, leaned out and asked if I knew the way to the Heart of the Midlands. Although I’d never been there, I knew where it was so I duly gave him directions.
He said “Thanks very much. I suppose you would like a tip.”
I replied, somewhat surprisedly, thinking I was going to receive some handout, “Oh, OK.”
He then said “Dobbin in the 3-30” and they drove off at speed.
Apparently, this was his normal riposte.
I remember seeing Peter Adamson (Len Fairclough, Coronation St.) rolling around, ratted, on slab square. I can’t remember whether it was before or after he was sacked from the show.
Elsie and Doris Waters (Gert & Daisy) were in Woollies on Lister Gate and on another occasion their brother Jack Warner (Dixon of Dock Green).
Also on Lister Gate were Jack Hulbert and Cicely Courtneidge and on yet another occasion, Michael Denison and Dulcie Gray. These last two couples were typical of the Noel Coward parodies “I know” “I know you know” “I know you know I know” “I know” demonstrated admirably by Betty Marsden & Hugh Paddick in Round the Horne with Celia Molestrangler and Binkie Huckaback aka Fiona & Charles.
I don’t know why there were so many theatricals on Lister Gate. Perhaps they were going (or had just been) to Woollies Cafeteria for a half-crown special lunch (Hot Meal of the day, and Choice of Hot Sweet). I went there quite a lot when at People’s College. Total digression there, I’ll get back to the subject at hand.
Actor Robin Bailey was from Hucknall and a friend of my family. Robin Bailey’s sister ran Bailey’s Pot Shop in the High Street.
My dad knew cricketer, Bill Voce fairly well but I don’t remember him at all.
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The Playhouse did do a stage version of Saturday Night & Sunday Morning. A young Ian McKellen played Arthur Seaton. I think it was in 1964/65 - it was at a time I was a member of the Playhouse Club. Alan Sillitoe was in attendance for several rehearsals and the preview.
It was very moving play, especially the abortion scene where an enamel bucket of bloody, aborted foetus was sloshed around the stage.
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When the Playhouse opened in 1963(?) main organisers – John Neville, Peter Ustinov and Frank Dunlop were very keen to get a young contingent of followers for the theatre so they formed, I think it was called, The Playhouse Club or it may have been The Young Playhouse. Either way, it was an informal group of 16 – 25 year olds who paid a small weekly sum (sixpence or so) to entitle them to a Saturday morning workshop (most, but no all Saturdays), reduced price tickets to most stage performances (except first nights) and very much reduced or even free admission to Student Previews which were held the night before a first night to enable any potential problems there may have been when an audience was present but which weren’t experienced during rehearsals*. The best part of the Club was that after the performance of Student Previews, all members of the club could stay behind and discuss the merits (or otherwise) of the night’s work.
Doing that, I got to meet and talk to loads of stage performers – some well known, some not so well known and a good number yet to become well known. I never got to be part of a stage performance, though, as some members of the club did.
Some of the people I met via the Playhouse Club: John Neville, Peter Ustinov, Ian McKellen, James Cossins, Wilfred Brambell (I also met him on another occasion in the Gents on Trinity Square, but that’s another story), Jonathan Miller, Vanessa Redgrave, Fenella Fielding, Judi Dench, Beryl Reid, Simon Dee (who he?), Bill Maynard.
There are loads of others. I’ll list them as they come to mind and post later – if anyone’s interested.
*On one occasion the curtain went up and the draught from the warmth of the audience cause a full stage backdrop to blow backwards and knock down all the scenery for the rest of the play.
Were any Nottstalgia members also members of the Young Playhouse or the Playhouse Club?
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Thanks for the responses. It did surprise me that this was a new subject.
I recall that Hucknall shawls had the reputation of being the finest of any available and it was possible to pass a shawl through a wedding ring they were so fine. This was going some as the shawl was usually about 1 yard square (just less than on metre square). It might not seem quite so astounding nowadays but remember the best shawls were made from mohair or alpaca or some other very expensive natural fibre.
I have a vague idea that the shawl factory I remember had a royal warrant outside but I may be mistaken on that. What is true though that the royals were keen customers.
I'm trying to do some research on the subject. I'll report back when I have any results (if not before).
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I did get the name wrong - it was Bexons.
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Much is made of Nottingham Lace but shawl making in Hucknall, although world-famous at the time, seems to be all but forgotten.
I was very surprised to not find any mention of shawl making on here before and I wonder if anyone has any memories or reminiscences they can share?
I remember one shawl factory on or near Albert St. but I know there were others, perhaps closed before I became aware of shawl making as part of the Hucknall (and Nottinghamshire) heritage.
Timewise, my memory takes me to 1950's - early 60's
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Eric Coates lived at the top of Duke St. (up from the Byron cinema) on the left at the junction with Beardall St. There is a blue plaque on the building celebrating this. When I lived in Hucknall, Dr Wallen had his practice there. I have written about Dr Wallen in another thread:
A possibly interesting point is that the same house was used for the practice of Dr OLJ Wallen, one of the early West Indian (black) doctors to qualify and work in England. He told me once that he was in several films that starred Paul Robeson (singer and early black activist) as an understudy and double.
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Definitively located the telephone exchange. It was directly opposite Lingford St. - where a different building is now but it looks like it may be a BT place.
I well remember Lymns undertakers on the Lingford St. corner, it's certainly a lot posher than it was when I was there. In my time it was little more than a woodyard with some old bloke making coffins at the back. I used to buy timber from them for various projects I did when I was young.
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Ian, found it, thanks!
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Somewhat off-topic but, I think I read somewhere (during my Christmas visit to the UK) that the Shakespeare St. synagogue had closed and was up for sale, is that correct? I went to a couple of weddings there way back in the '60's.
Don't know why I remember this but the Rabbi at that time was Rabbi Posen. Anyone have any memories of him?
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I have thought of visiting the town again on one of my trips to the UK but more and more I am being put off doing so.
Despite hating the place when I lived there, I do have some fond memories which would be destroyed if I went to see a place which I know from yourself, Google maps and SV I would hardly recognise.
Age is certainly catching up with me as well. Nowadays I have extreme difficulty in walking and a wonky heart so I am in a wheelchair most of the time. I am lucky in living where I do where it is quite normal to have domestic staff to look after me - provided I can afford it, which, fortunately, I can.
I am hoping to add more to the 'Ucknall thread(s) as the memories come back.
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Some friends and I used to collect trolley bus tickets. They had a one or two letter start then several digits number. The idea of the collecting was to only collect those with the starting letter(s) the same as a chemical symbol (we were scientists, after all). We were trying to form a complete periodic table. We did manage to collect over fifty elements, though.
Ooo Dyer Reckun Writ This Then? ( It wont me..)
in General Chat about Nottingham
Posted
This sort of stuff used to be called purple prose and written by someone who's been on a creative writing course - and failed spectacularly.
If this is typical of the writer's work, they should be kept well away from all forms of written communication.