Things in living memory which seem very anachronistic now

[McRhu]

And here is the IBA test card.
View attachment 164224

What appears in the original picture appears to be the SMPTE colour bars.

And there was the Potter's Wheel when things went wrong. Whilst on the subject of All Our Yesterdays (televisual) there was The Spirit of Dark and Lonely Water who, along with the dwarf from The Singing, Ringing Tree, put the wind up a whole generation. TV's of the period are themselves anachronistic relative to this present age in that they were built as furniture using walnut cabinets. We had one with sliding doors so that when it wasn't being watched it could genteely comply with the social mores, manners and customs of that more enlightened age and disguise itself as a cocktail cabinet. And whatever happened to mores, manners and customs, eh? Down the anachronistic plughole, that's what.

 

[GordonT]

Another long running TV series for children was "Crackerjack" with Leslie Crowther and Peter Glaze. The audience for some reason was obligated to shout back the word "Crackerjack" whenever one of the comperes mentioned it and the reward for winning any competitive activity was a "Crackerjack Pencil".

 

[gg1]

Definitely true, even in the 2000s.

We went to Homebase, did our shopping there and placed it on the back seat of our Ka. Went into town to get some other bits. Got home and found a basket of plants from Homebase in the boot!

I used to own a 1995 Ford Scorpio the same time my dad had a 1996 Escort, both sets of keys would open either car.

 

[contrex]

And here is the IBA test card.
View attachment 164224

What appears in the original picture appears to be the SMPTE colour bars.

Similar to the good old Philips PM5544 pattern.



Back in the 80s when I renovated old TVs (mainly Decca Bradfords) for beer money in my spare time, the Philips test pattern generator was beyond my wildest dreams. I was saving up for a more basic TV service people's type device while doing as much as I could while test cards were on. Surprising what you could do by eye. Delta guns - purity, static & dynamic convergence, but get the grey scale right first!!!! What was a big help was my third computer that I got in 1984, a Sinclair QL of fond memory. I wrote prgrams to create cross-hatch, and crude greyscale and colour bar displays. Of course now that only eccentric people watch CRT TVs, it's all of historical interest.

 

[Harpo]

And there was the Potter's Wheel when things went wrong.

Or the ‘Do not adjust your set’ message.
TV's of the period are themselves anachronistic relative to this present age in that they were built as furniture using walnut cabinets.
Ditto ‘radiogram’s.

 

[Ediswan]

I’ve heard it suggested that some manufacturers only had a dozen or so key patterns, therefore it was statistically plausible you could access someone else’s Cortina with your key. These stories may have been apocryphal or exaggerated, though.

I recall a group of us unlocking and getting into a Triumph 1300, owned by one us of. Then spotted that the dashboard layout was wrong. The correct car was a few spaces away.

 

[etr221]

Dog Licences.

If you owned a dog you had to purchase a dog licence. When it was abolished I believe it cost the grand sum of 37.5p per annum.

No: it was actually reduced from 37½p (decimal equivalent of 7/6 - seven shillings and sixpence) to 37p shortly before it was abolished, because the ½p coin was withdrawn first - it had to be a price that could actually be paid. When the price had been set to 7/6 I've no idea...

On taxes: Schedule A (I think it was) Income Tax for home owner occupiers, on the rent you (notionally) paid yourself for occupying the house you owned (which I think was an arbitrary figure, last updated before the war). A rent which I understand is nonetheless taken into account in calcating GNP....

 

[AndrewE]

I used to own a 1995 Ford Scorpio the same time my dad had a 1996 Escort, both sets of keys would open either car.

Were motor bike keys still just like a screwdriver bit that late? I can't imagine the point of a key like that, they might as well have had a toggle switch! I learnt to ride my friend's James and Greaves motor bikes - which we used to push to an unfarmed field to ride round at about age 13... (late 1960s)

 

[contrex]

Another long running TV series for children was "Crackerjack" with Leslie Crowther and Peter Glaze. The audience for some reason was obligated to shout back the word "Crackerjack" whenever one of the comperes mentioned it and the reward for winning any competitive activity was a "Crackerjack Pencil".

I remember an episode in which Crowther and Glaze go for a ride in a vintage car with the young lady presenter, (Pip Hinton? Not sure). It breaks down, and while the two men are deciding what to do, the girl has a nap in the back seat of the car. All live, of course. They refer to the car as 'she'. Crowther says to Glaze, 'I know, let's take her to a back alley and strip her down!' just as Police Constable Deryck Guyler strides past, looking very suspiciously at them. Even at the age of 12 in 1964 I thought it was a bit strong for a kid's show.

I was very sad to see Leslie Crowther very drunk on a TV chat show in the late 1980s. He did get help and stopped drinking, I believe.

When the price had been set to 7/6 I've no idea...

1847, I think, when it was worth roughly the same as £50 now. Still £12.50 in Northern Ireland.

 

[GRALISTAIR]

The bogs had American style doors on the cubicles to catch smokers. I visited on an open day recently now they have full height doors and smoke detectors.

Oh yes. We had those at my school- KGS - Kirkham Grammar School.

 

[AM9]

We were issued with five "dinner tickets" when we paid our dinner money on Monday morning and had to write our name on the back if each one. At a random point in the term there would be a check to ensure that everybody booked for school dinners was turning up for them. The prefects collecting the tickets didn't care if you just handed one in and walked away.

The bogs had American style doors on the cubicles to catch smokers. I visited on an open day recently now they have full height doors and smoke detectors.

Corporal punishment of course. I got three from the head for bringing stink bombs into school. But some teachers also gave the slipper (actually a plimsoll) in class. The general feeling among pupils was that a slippering was over and done with while the cane meant a record in the punishment book.

As corporal is in discussion, I remember the last two years in Junioor School where we had the same form teacher for two years. An elderly chap was OK, (he also taught my mother and her siblings in their youth. His discipline was to give strokes on the posterior, using the blackboard ruler (about 3ft x4in.) on boys, and the blackboard set square (about 1ftx6in.) for girls, and for the girls that he liked - his hand. Now that's what I call anachronistic! Oh how times have changed since the late '50s.

 

[AndrewE]

As corporal is in discussion, I remember the last two years in Junioor School where we had the same form teacher for two years. An elderly chap was OK, (he also taught my mother and her siblings in their youth. His discipline was to give strokes on the posterior, using the blackboard ruler (about 3ft x4in.) on boys, and the blackboard set square (about 1ftx6in.) for girls, and for the girls that he liked - his hand. Now that's what I call anachronistic! Oh how times have changed since the late '50s.

At my junior school I was one of the (quite) good boys... until I got to 3rd year juniors (9 or 10 yrs old) where the teacher routinely found an excuse to make lots of us pull up the leg of our shorts to slap us on the thigh...

One night my mum noticed a hand-shaped bruise on my thigh, went up the road to my school-friend's house (he was in the same class) and asked him and his mum if my story that Mr Hamilton had smacked me was true...

His reply "Yes, He smacks "A" every day!" incensed my parents and they went in and played hell with the headmistress. I can't remember whether my punishment diminished or not!

I regularly got a silver thruppeny bit - out of circulation by then - for coming in the top 3 of the class in the yearly exams all the same! The headmistress must have had a big bag of them.

 

[dosxuk]

This is the test card

There is no such thing as "the" test card - as the presence of the "F" at the bottom should suggest, that is just one of a series of testcards. Testcard F is completely obsolete nowadays, having been designed solely for PAL colour analogue transmissions by the BBC. The direct modern equivalent is Testcard W, which looks very similar but has many features used to test and calibrate digital widescreen signals. Outside of the BBC's series, there are thousands of other testcard designs, with many combinations of test features, in constant and widespread use, even today.

 

[dangie]

Another long running TV series for children was "Crackerjack" with Leslie Crowther and Peter Glaze. The audience for some reason was obligated to shout back the word "Crackerjack" whenever one of the comperes mentioned it and the reward for winning any competitive activity was a "Crackerjack Pencil".

I’m obviously a bit older than you as I remember Eamonn Andrews (1955-64) who was the presenter before Leslie Crowther (1964-68). One game was ‘Double or Drop’ where the children had to answer questions. If they got it correct they’d win a prize, if they got it wrong they’d get a cabbage. Everything had to be held. If anything was dropped they’d be out. However as you say everyone got a Crackerjack pencil.

 

[Xenophon PCDGS]

The Friday night lorry with stone jars of Dandelion and Burdock, Saspirella, etc, that delivered and collected the empties.

 

[dangie]

The Friday night lorry with stone jars of Dandelion and Burdock, Saspirella, etc, that delivered and collected the empties.

The Davenports Beer at Home lorry.

 

[ChiefPlanner]

Supposed healthy dietary supplements assumed to be especially good for children. These included Haliborange tablets, malt extract and cod liver oil.
Vaguely remember my late mother in her younger years buying a pack of what looked like small squares of dairy fudge one of which were supposed to replace a light meal with a big reduction in calories.
Also remember doctors dispensing "polio sugar", a cube of raw sugar impregnated with anti polio chemicals.

Those fudge things had the unfortunate name "Ayds" - appetite suppresants , allegedly amphetamine based. Did she get stuck into the polishing with vigerour ............

 

[McRhu]

Supposed healthy dietary supplements assumed to be especially good for children. These included Haliborange tablets, malt extract and cod liver oil.
Vaguely remember my late mother in her younger years buying a pack of what looked like small squares of dairy fudge one of which were supposed to replace a light meal with a big reduction in calories.
Also remember doctors dispensing "polio sugar", a cube of raw sugar impregnated with anti polio chemicals.

Cod liver oil used to be a big thing. The MOD used to dish out cod liver oil capsules to its employees every winter (at least at Faslane), and I had the pleasure of having to take a generous tablespoonful of Scots Emulsion every day. My tastebuds have faced stiff opposition on many occasions but that was the charge of the Light Brigade. It did have many health benefits though, including curing sticky-out ears, fixing freckles and making one Emperor of Rome.

 

[StoneRoad]

One I remember from my childhood in the 80s but haven't seen since, a coach/bus chassis sans bodywork and interior being driven along a motorway by a driver sat in open and usually wearing a motorcycle crash helmet.

Yup - although in my case the chassis were being driven along the A4 past my school in Keynsham. That dates to the early 1970s.
Got into some trouble because I was paying more attention to the passing half a bus than the school sports I was supposedly enjoying ...

 

[Busaholic]

I’ve heard it suggested that some manufacturers only had a dozen or so key patterns, therefore it was statistically plausible you could access someone else’s Cortina with your key. These stories may have been apocryphal or exaggerated, though.

Wasn't apocryphal for me when I returned to my Cortina Mk1 Estate to find all my supermarket shopping stolen, bar one pigeon! To add insult to injury, the bored sergeant in the nearby police station to whom I reported it told me ''you're the thirtieth person today who's reported that today from that car park.'' This would have been early 1980s.

 

[Killingworth]

.... I was told by another member of staff that on one occasion the deputy had found a class making a lot of noise while waiting for their teacher to arrive. Everyone got two strokes. That meant at least 70 in total. Towards the end the deputy was finding it hard going, but he had persisted so as to make sure they all got the message.

About 1960 our class was making a lot of noise while waiting for our next teacher to arrive. Our English master was walking by and stopped to find what was happening. A Scots disciplinarian in hob nailed boots, quite short but he put the fear of God into us. CIJMS were his initials. No cane for him. No easy lines or detentions. "You will all write out the Rime of the Ancient Mariner" in full and hand it in when I take your next lesson on Friday. We did too!

Coleridge, far harder than taping 5 ballpoint pens together to run off 500 lines.

PART THE FIRST.​

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
"By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

"The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May'st hear the merry din."

He holds him with his skinny hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.
"Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye—
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:
He cannot chuse but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the light-house top.

The Sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he!
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon—
The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot chuse but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong:
He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe
And forward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold:
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken—
The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross an Albatross:
Thorough the fog it came;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariners' hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white Moon-shine.

"God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—
Why look'st thou so?"—With my cross-bow
I shot the ALBATROSS.

PART THE SECOND.​

The Sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,
Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind
But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day for food or play
Came to the mariners' hollo!

And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay
That made the breeze to blow!

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free:
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.

And some in dreams assured were
Of the spirit that plagued us so:
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.

PART THE THIRD.​

There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye,
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist:
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could not laugh nor wail;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call:
Gramercy! they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.

See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal;
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the Sun.

And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peered,
With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,
Like restless gossameres!

Are those her ribs through which the Sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
Is that a DEATH? and are there two?
Is DEATH that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-Mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice;
"The game is done! I've won! I've won!"
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea.
Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
My life-blood seemed to sip!

The stars were dim, and thick the night,
The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;
From the sails the dew did drip—
Till clombe above the eastern bar
The horned Moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged Moon
Too quick for groan or sigh,
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly,—
They fled to bliss or woe!
And every soul, it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my CROSS-BOW!

PART THE FOURTH.​

"I fear thee, ancient Mariner!
I fear thy skinny hand!
And thou art long, and lank, and brown,
As is the ribbed sea-sand.

"I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
And thy skinny hand, so brown."—
Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!
This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie:
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea,
And drew my eyes away;
I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.

I looked to Heaven, and tried to pray:
But or ever a prayer had gusht,
A wicked whisper came, and made
my heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat;
For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Nor rot nor reek did they:
The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to Hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is a curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky,
And no where did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside.

Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway
A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship,
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.

The self same moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.

PART THE FIFTH.​

Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,
That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,
That had so long remained,
I dreamt that they were filled with dew;
And when I awoke, it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs:
I was so light—almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed ghost.

And soon I heard a roaring wind:
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life!
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud,
And the sails did sigh like sedge;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud;
The Moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The Moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the ship,
Yet now the ship moved on!
Beneath the lightning and the Moon
The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;
Yet never a breeze up blew;
The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do:
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools—
We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son,
Stood by me, knee to knee:
The body and I pulled at one rope,
But he said nought to me.

"I fear thee, ancient Mariner!"
Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!
'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,
Which to their corses came again,
But a troop of spirits blest:

For when it dawned—they dropped their arms,
And clustered round the mast;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the Sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the sky-lark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning!

And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song,
That makes the Heavens be mute.

It ceased; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.

Under the keel nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow,
The spirit slid: and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.

The Sun, right up above the mast,
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion—
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.

Then like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay,
I have not to declare;
But ere my living life returned,
I heard and in my soul discerned
Two VOICES in the air.

"Is it he?" quoth one, "Is this the man?
By him who died on cross,
With his cruel bow he laid full low,
The harmless Albatross.

"The spirit who bideth by himself
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow."

The other was a softer voice,
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he, "The man hath penance done,
And penance more will do."

PART THE SIXTH.​

FIRST VOICE.

But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing—
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the OCEAN doing?

SECOND VOICE.

Still as a slave before his lord,
The OCEAN hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the Moon is cast—

If he may know which way to go;
For she guides him smooth or grim
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him.

FIRST VOICE.

But why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?

SECOND VOICE.

The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated.

I woke, and we were sailing on
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high;
The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter:
All fixed on me their stony eyes,
That in the Moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away:
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green.
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen—

Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring—
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sailed softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze—
On me alone it blew.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
The light-house top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own countree!

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray—
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steeped in silentness
The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turned my eyes upon the deck—
Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,
And, by the holy rood!
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.

This seraph band, each waved his hand:
It was a heavenly sight!
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light:

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,
No voice did they impart—
No voice; but oh! the silence sank
Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars;
I heard the Pilot's cheer;
My head was turned perforce away,
And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot, and the Pilot's boy,
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third—I heard his voice:
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood.

PART THE SEVENTH.​

This Hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with marineres
That come from a far countree.

He kneels at morn and noon and eve—
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk,
"Why this is strange, I trow!
Where are those lights so many and fair,
That signal made but now?"

"Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit said—
"And they answered not our cheer!
The planks looked warped! and see those sails,
How thin they are and sere!
I never saw aught like to them,
Unless perchance it were

"Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest-brook along;
When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,
That eats the she-wolf's young."

"Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look—
(The Pilot made reply)
I am a-feared"—"Push on, push on!"
Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread:
It reached the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drowned
My body lay afloat;
But swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips—the Pilot shrieked
And fell down in a fit;
The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.
"Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row."

And now, all in my own countree,
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.

"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!"
The Hermit crossed his brow.
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say—
What manner of man art thou?"

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns;
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!—

To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us
He made and loveth all.

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn.

 

[contrex]

Yup - although in my case the chassis were being driven along the A4 past my school in Keynsham. That dates to the early 1970s.
Got into some trouble because I was paying more attention to the passing half a bus than the school sports I was supposedly enjoying ...

They used to go from the Bristol Commercial Vehicles works factory on Bath Road, Brislington, Bristol, as chassis, to Eastern Coach Works (ECW) in Lowestoft. The driver had to wrap up very warm. No fun if it was wet. Last one was 1981 I think, a VR type.

 

[Howardh]

Bring interested in the FA Cup.

 

[D6130]

Being interested in any kind of professional sport.

 

[lookapigeon]

Pages from Ceefax on the BBC, with the accompanying production music library sourced soundtrack.

 

[Harpo]

Bring interested in the FA Cup.

The FA Cup always kicking off at 3.00 on a Saturday afternoon.

 

[londonbridge]

Discussion of Crackerjack prompted me to wonder whether Talking Pictures TV might consider it if they could get the rights. On reading up on it, it seems that, in line with the BBC’s then policy of junking tape and film, just under a third of the original 451 shows are known to survive. The bulk of these are from the Ed Stewart and Stu Francis eras, with only a handful of Eammon Andrews’ and Michael Aspels’ shows remaining, and none of the Leslie Crowther episodes are known to exist.

 

[Howardh]

Discussion of Crackerjack prompted me to wonder whether Talking Pictures TV might consider it if they could get the rights. On reading up on it, it seems that, in line with the BBC’s then policy of junking tape and film, just under a third of the original 451 shows are known to survive. The bulk of these are from the Ed Stewart and Stu Francis eras, with only a handful of Eammon Andrews’ and Michael Aspels’ shows remaining, and none of the Leslie Crowther episodes are known to exist.

Wasn't one of the main reasons footage was lost being that a lot of in-studio shows were videotaped, but because tape was so expensive then they got wiped and re-used? Hence the occasional plea for anyone - probably a media professional due to the cost and rarity if such machines (pre home video machines being common) to dig out their own footage?

Not sure - but didn't early b/w Dad's Army and Steptoe and Son turn up that way? Even poor recordings can now be enhanced and be made broadcast quality of course. Think, also, it explains why so little Granada TV footage of the 60's and early 70's local football exists - there are some local games I'd love to see again -, and what we see today were short highlights from "The Big Match" as the full games have now gone? If that footage does exist in Granada's vaults, surely with the success of "The Big Match Revisited" they could release those tapes - if they still have them of course!!

 

[GordonT]

I remember an episode in which Crowther and Glaze go for a ride in a vintage car with the young lady presenter, (Pip Hinton? Not sure). It breaks down, and while the two men are deciding what to do, the girl has a nap in the back seat of the car. All live, of course. They refer to the car as 'she'. Crowther says to Glaze, 'I know, let's take her to a back alley and strip her down!' just as Police Constable Deryck Guyler strides past, looking very suspiciously at them.

That actually shines a small light on the terrible culture which prevailed at the time with the tacit insinuation that a lone female was potentially fair game for men to in effect abuse for their own gratification. Taken to extremes we have the legacy of several then high-profile abusers who had to an extent been emboldened in their disgraceful activities by the culture surrounding them.

 

[contrex]

That actually shines a small light.on the terrible culture which prevailed at the time with the tacit insinuation that a lone female was potentially fair game for men to in effect abuse for their own gratification. Taken to extremes we have the legacy of several then high-profile abusers who had to an extent been emboldened in their disgraceful activities by the culture surrounding them.

Yes. It hid in plain sight. Very disconcerting to think about. The episode I saw was in 1964 or 1965 I estimate. I first started watching Crackerjack around 1960, when 'Seamus Android' was very much in control. That individual also presented another programme, 'Playbox', which I remember quite well. For a time Playbox used to alternate weekly with Crackerjack both hosted by Eamonn Andrews. Whereas Crackerjack was set in a theatre with an audience, Playbox was studio based with quizzes and games plus the animated cartoon Bengo about a pet puppy and the drawings of Tony Hart. Others who presented that show included Rolf Harris (!!!), Tony Hart, Cliff Michelmore and Johnny Morris. Let's not forget 'Whack-O' with Jimmy Edwards!