Step into the past

I went for a walk yesterday. Something I have not done since the lockdown began. In fact I went for two walks. In both I walked the streets of Rhyl. The difference being that one walk was in the Rhyl locked away in my mind to be taken out and revisited whenever I wanted. TheContinue reading “Step into the past”

The food of love

For 70 years my life has played out to a background of music and now just a few bars of a song or an instrumental can bring memories flooding back. Today’s unfortunate news does mean that for a while certain songs will not have the same happy memories that others do. Of course I’m talkingContinue reading “The food of love”

Nudge, nudge Wink, wink

Growing up in Rhyl in the 50s and 60s was a mixed blessing, but at the end of the day I was sorry to leave. During the summer it was a bustling, noisy place with crowds on the promenade and the cries of bingo callers from all the arcades along the front. Our house wasContinue reading “Nudge, nudge Wink, wink”

Nature’s infinite book of secrecy

Shakespeare knew that nature hides many secrets and that *man* (or in Antony and Cleopatra the Soothsayer) would be forever trying to seek them out. *man* please forgive this sexist reference but at the time science was, wrongly, seen as a male preserve. By the 1950s young boys were being persuaded to show an interestContinue reading “Nature’s infinite book of secrecy”

He’s behind you

My two theatrical dreams, which at 70 I am probably unlikely to achieve, are to direct one of Shakespeare’s plays and to direct a traditional British pantomime. This might surprise some theatrical devotees because traditionally you should opt for either the serious theatre or for pantomime. At Rhyl Children’s Theatre Club Joe Holroyd and AngelaContinue reading “He’s behind you”

All the world’s a stage . . .

The theatre has always fascinated me. Maybe it is because of my inner extrovert. Even as a child I enjoyed dressing up. I don’t mean dressing up as a cowboy or Indian. I mean being the character. My parents had a suitcase we called the dressing-up case. Many of the items, tunics, trousers etc., wereContinue reading “All the world’s a stage . . .”

Hostile takeover

I was doing quite well with my sources of income as the summer went on. I had my paper round, which I had got down to a fine art, and the casing was bringing in money. All was fine and dandy. Holidaymakers always arrived on a Saturday morning and by 1pm business slackened off whichContinue reading “Hostile takeover”

Earning my pocket money

The Beatles came into my father’s shop once, or at least one or two of them did. They had done a gig the previous night and had brought in a film to be developed and printed. The point is that at that stage my father wouldn’t have known one of them from another so toContinue reading “Earning my pocket money”

I must go down to the sea again

I distinctly remember when the wide, wet, salty sea and I became acquainted. It was a May day in 1955 and the Pierce family had arrived in Rhyl. I was five years old and would probably have got in the way of the men carrying our goods and chattels into the house. My mother decidedContinue reading “I must go down to the sea again”