I say by mistake because I always watch Breakfast on BBC One. To me Good Morning Britain on ITV is trash early morning television and I think an in depth feature on farting probably backs this up, not to mention the presenter with the ridiculously gelled hair (no idea who he was). Mind you he was probably preferable to the awful Piers Morgan.
I lingered just long enough to be told that in one pharmacy they have Farty Friday where they encourage people to Fart. We were told that sometimes this even clears the shop! The mind boggles, particularly because we are in the season of Brussel Sprouts!
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Amongst my e-mails over the past couple of days was one suggesting a reunion for our college group.
I cannot comprehend that it is 50 years next Spring/Summer that we left Harlow Technical College after a whirlwind nine months that will always remain one of the best years of my life (sorry best nine months).
Going away from Norfolk and home for a year changed me in more ways than I ever thought possible. I really grasped the nettle and enjoyed virtually every minute of my time at college (although shorthand classes weren't my favourite).
In those days nobody told us that it was ok to feel depressed, ok to feel homesick. We just got on with things, made new lifetime friends and partied. It was at the time when there was much resentment in the country leading up to the three day week but that seemed, in a strange way, to add to the fun.
There were energy cuts galore. We used to go to a pub that had lights and then when they went out moved to another pub until we realised it was quite nice to drink by candlelight.
I was only at college for nine months but it seemed much longer. I remember seeing David Bowie in concert (my favourite gig ever), I remember seeing Barclay James Harvest who became, and still are, my favourite rock group of all time. I remember studying shorthand, British Constitution and journalism law. I remember a lecturer we called Red Mole because I believe he was a communist. He had thick bottle style glasses, a full head of red hair and a drooping red moustache.
I remember a lovely man Ted Mawdsley who would often give us lifts home because he lived in the same neighbourhood, Brian Downey who held weekend group sessions round his flat (I think I slept one night in his bath). I remember the pub crawls, the sitting up virtually all night on the toilet revising for exams. We used the loo in order not to wake others.
Above all I remember the family I lodged with. There was mum Sonia Turner who was either separated or divorced and her two children - Jamie and Samantha. But the household also featured a seemingly never ending stream of lodgers. There was Ted and Wally who seemed very old to us (they were 25) and Veronica who worked at Harlow Playhouse and actually met David Bowie (he was a bit up himself she told us). Veronica asked us one night if we wanted to see her new blouse and see whether it suited her. It was very thin and completely see through!! We thought it certainly looked ok.
There was Marcia Davies who I went out with for a time and have always felt guilty about as I never said goodbye to her when her course finished. I remember the parties we had, the regular visits to the local cinema (Straw Dogs, The Devils, Clockwork Orange, The French Connection and even Love Story - a classic film virtually every week). I remember visits to the Chinese restaurant where I always ate English. Now I love Chinese food, particularly having visited that country a number of years ago.
I remember vividly people on the same course as me - some of whom I am still in touch with. I look forward immensely to a reunion, hopefully this summer.
You see how these people left a huge mark on my memory. I have tried over the years to contact the Turner family without any success. It is so difficult to think that mum Sonia would now be 80 if she is still alive. The children would be in their mid fifties. In my mind and in the words of Bob Dylan they will always be Forever Young.
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Sometimes I feel that I have to use a phrase I hate - "I told you so."
A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that the advertised Winter Wonderland at Carrow Road sounded like a real rip off and so the three day event turned out according to the local media.
The ice rink apparently consisted of a number of interlocking jigsaw type pieces that were then watered and frozen meaning that people couldn't skate as such but could only shuffle around on. The exclusive reindeer pen turned out to be a few barriers and there didn't appear to be much else for £10. There were a couple of kiddy rides for an additional £2.50. Norwich City has a reputation to uphold and this kind of thing simply tarnishes it. But I did warn you and the adverse comments didn't come as much of a surprise!