Nah then folks, during the 60s..

[dafodil]

A Typical Day in the Life of a 13 Year Old Boy in 1967 Part 3 of 5.

 

Dad Zakes left the family home on Newstead Rise just short of eight minutes later, he didn’t slam the door behind or in front of him and left quietly. Zakes knew which route his dad would be taking to get to Hollinsend Park, so gave him seven minutes start.

 

Havig been upstairs for a quick swill Zakes was now back downstairs searching in the shoe cupboard for some hardy but robust footwear to wear. Very soon he found what he had been looking for, a pair of creamy white coloured Brookhouse Colliery coal mining pit boots. Being a working class boy Zakes was so proud to be owning these snazzy boots. He had found them one night two weeks ago inside a galvanized dustbin that was stood directly outside Styan’s bread shop at Frecheville shopping centre, on Birley Moor Road. He had tried them on straight away and they turned out to be a perfect fit from the pit. There was no doubting where the boots had come from because the words Brookhouse Colliery had been boldly embossed across the toe caps, followed by the number 193. Zakes had been so delighted to have found the delightful boots, that on the way home he repeatedly sang the song, ‘Love is a many – splendored thing’, that had been recorded in the 1950’s by Nat King Coal.

 

Meanwhile back at the ranch, Zakes left home on time slamming the door behind him. Several minutes later Zakes was marching up Birley Moor Avenue. Looking proudly down at his shiny self dubbinized creamy white coloured pit boots Zakes wondered if Mum Zakes would write a letter for him. The letter would be addressed to the Brookhouse Colliery and would say:-

 

Dear Sirs,

 

I would be very grateful if you could please offer my 13 year old son a position at your place of work. My son is always punctual and never late. He is always on time and is bright, alert and friendly. He has asked me to ask you if he could come each day to feed and water your puny but proud pit ponies. He would also be willing to take them for a walk around now and again. Wolverhampton Wanderers is his football team, and they come from the black country. You work with coal which is black, which means there is a strong common connection atween yourselves.

If I haven’t heard from you within 10 days, I will come down to Brookhouse Colliery and sort you bloody lot out!

 

Yours most sincerely

 

Mrs. E.L.J.M. Zakes xx.

 

Having befound himself on Nab Lane, Zakes was nowstood at the top of the Jennel next to the side of the police houses. Looking down the steep jennel that led to the Base Green housing estate, Zakes caught a glimpse of Dad Zakes going around the corner at the very bottom. Not wanting to mucky his bobby dazzling boots Zakes tried to think of an alternate way to get down to the bottom of the very steep dusty jennel. Looking about him, Zakes discovered a host of golden buttercups. He didn’t need the cups and picked just the butter. Having smeared two handfuls of the butter onto his backside the 13 years old Zakes sat down, then gave himself a push then fairly zipped down the long steep jennel. His journey came to an end 58 seconds later when he crashed face first into the fencing at the bottom. ‘Wow, this is better than sledging’, thought Zakes, as he franticly extinguished the flames coming out from the back of his khaki shorts.

 

Having dusted himself down Zakes continued the ensuing of his dad. Having reached Jaunty Lane Zakes saw his dad passing the Wm. Stones owned Centre Spot pub. This looked like Dad Zakes was really going to go bowling after all in Hollinsend Park, thought Zakes. This was good news thought the smiling Zakes, and he was about to call his dad, when suddenly his smiles turned to quizzical looks.

 

On reaching the junction of Jaunty Lane and Hollinsend Road, Dad Zakes had taken a left turn instead of crossing over the road to enter Hollinsend Park by it’s side entrance. Why would Dad Zakes take the long way around to the bowling greens, thought Zakes. Arriving moments later at the same junction Zakes jutted his head out to peek around the corner. His heart sunk when he saw his blue suited dad waving to somebody higher up in Hollinsend Road.

 

Dashing over Hollinsend Road Zakes got a better view of things and slowly walked up the road half bent over looking like a human lurcher. He focused his telescopic eyesight and saw his dad embrace a woman who was massive. His cheating dad was kissing and cuddling with this wide wench for all and sundry to see. Zakes re-focused his eyes and could quite clearly see the woman’s peg leg. The polished leg was gleaming in the sunlight and Zakes could make out four knots in the wood just below her knee. He studied this fat floozy further and couldn’t work out why Dad Zakes fancied her. Zakes was old enough now to know that it worked the other way around as well.

 

To be continued.

I believe the Sheffield term is! a bit of Mankin goin on;)

[zakes]

A Typical Day in the Life of a 13 Year Old Boy in 1967 Part 4 of 5.

 

The wide eyed Zakes continued his observance and tried with difficulty to imagine what it would look like when Dad and Peg got it together. Wood Peggy’s peg leg get in the way when they had the log o’er, or knot? Other questions also needed to be asked of the canoodling couple. Was the false leg made from Larch, Ash, Oak, or Mahogany? He’d have to ask his woodwork teacher Mr. Dickerson which of the woods was the most costly to buy. Why didn’t Peggy have a parrot on her shoulder, preferably her left one, like in those pirate books Zakes had often read? Zakes would have liked to have seen the pretty plumage of a polly. He even knew a girl on the Birley Estate who was called Polly. Her full name was Polly Pollen and her bestest friend at school was called Kitty Clover. When Dad Zakes and Peggy arranged to meet for a pegging session, did he have a packet of Noddy’s in his top pocket? Zakes felt quite sure the Centre Spot pub sold Noddy’s from a slot machine that had buy me and stop one printed upon it. Would a snooker table be proud to own a set of legs similar to the one Peggy had? What if the 24 stone Peggy got p®egnant? Would she have an up the junction job done on her in darkest Darnall? If so, would the knitting needle be extra long and extra thick? What if Mum Zakes found out? Would she take her husband down a short cylindrical dowel or two? Zakes was glad he wouldn’t have to answer these questions.

 

Dad Zakes had today without doubt proved himself to be a bargain basement lothario of the lowest order. He needed to quell his desires and learn to behave himself for the good of his family. This was no quelquechose he was doing to be knocking about with a woman who had half emulated Douglas Bader… There was movement at last, as Dad Zakes and Poggy Peggy climbed into her silver and yellow coloured deluxe bubble car of the shooting brake variety, and drove off.

 

Zakes now came out from behind the private privet hedge he had been hiding behind. He felt disconsolate and dejectedly downcast as he walked back in the direction of Birley in a hangdog way. He sought solace by looking down at his shiny creamy white pit boots, but only found a gleaming teardrop upon the letter K in the word Brookhouse. Zakes reached down to wipe away the tear because he knew the salt from a single teardrop could easily ruin the leather of a boot. Tears were now profusely leaking from his exquisite blue eyes, as he wondered how his dad could have let him down in such a way as he did. It now became clear to him what his dad had meant a pair of months ago when he had said…

 

LIFE IS ALL ABOUT HOLES,

WE MEN ARE BORN OUT OF ONE,

WE SPEND OUR LIVES, TRYING TO GET INTO ONE,

AND WHEN WE DIE, THEY CHUCK US INTO ONE.

 

Three minutes later Zakes arrived at Birley Moor Crescent having had a stroke of luck on Base Green. Whilst walking along Jaunty Lane feeling crestfallen a great crested blue peg-asus had swooped down and landed by his feet, and had offered him a ride upon his back to wherever he wanted to go. Zakes was pals with many Peg-asuses as he had been in their house team at Carter Lodge School in Hackenthorpe. This was the school where Zakes had first started his senior education. Zakes and the avian horse said their goodbye’s, and they gave each other a well meaning nod, then the Peg-asus unswooped up into the sky and was soon out of sight.

 

Feeling a little better, Zakes saw his mother standing outside the B&C shop talking with that bescarved infernal Jim (him again. Huh) with the blue and white bicycle. Not wanting to be seen Zakes momentarily considered disappearing behind a nearby ice cream van that had stop me and buy one printed up it. He thought better of it though because if his um caught him his punishment for being out of sight would be a hiding. Zakes with twisted anger approached the two and snarled at the curmudgeonous pedaller, “Nah then thee, on thi’ bike!” In his panic to gain distance from Zakes the shaking double agent Jim nearly fell from his boneshaker. Zakes turned to his mum who was looking as white as a pillow case, and asked her if she was feeling alright. Zakes watched as tears flooded from her shifty eyes creating a large puddle by her feet. Mum Zakes was speechless for the first time in her life, and that pleased Zakes. Zakes felt quite sure Jim had imp®egnated Mum Zakes’ mind with his seeds of mischievous gossip about Dad Zakes and his tubby tart Peggy. Zakes couldn’t stand the sight of tears so he tore off towards Birley Lane.

 

To be continued…

 

---------- Post added 14-04-2013 at 01:23 ----------

 

A Typical Day in the Life of a 13 Year Old Boy in 1967 Part 5 of 5.

 

On arrival at Birley pond, Zakes came across a lad who was relatively new to the area, even though he didn’t have any relatives here. The brindle haired Orwin was an orphan who had come to Newstead from an orphanage in Orpington, down London way. His parents had been breeders of hens and ducks which was a profitable business which allowed them to feather their nest. Unfortunately, Orwin’s mum and dad had died one day when they had contracted Zoonosis. This had left poor Orwin distraught and allergic to Zoos, Safari Parks and Mace’s and Ogley’s shops in Sheffield. Orwin was now settled in having lived here for a pair of months from glossy Gloucester, a cheesey town famous for it’s Severn river, Sheffield only had five.

 

Sitting side by side on the steep western bank of Birley pond, Zakes and Orwin tucked into Orwin’s packed picnic pack he had brought with him in his dull, duffed up duffel bag. The meal comprised two hard boiled brown eggs, two red tomatoes and four margarine slices of what looked suspiciously like Mothers Pride white bread with crusts. This was followed by a shared slice of plum duff cake, washed down with a shared bottle of Aerosplash fizzy pop.

 

Twenty seven minutes after the food feast Zakes broke the silent silence by asking Orwin if he had a favourite football team. The football scarfless eagle eyed Orwin told Zakes his team was Crystal Palace, and he had been to see them play on no less than one occasion. He went on to say that he didn’t like to see his team lose, but he was quite happy about it if they draw Orwin. He then went on to say his club had become very ambitious, because they had put in a big bid when it was rumoured West Ham were prepared to sel Hurst.

Twenty seven minutes after the football talk Orwin broke the silent silence by asking Zakes where he had got his creamy white pit boots from. Zakes was very pleased Orwin had asked about the fetching footwear he had on, and was only too willing to tell him about them in his usual honest and modistic manner… At school he had written during a history lesson a project about the coal mining industry. He had received a glowing appraisal from the teacher, but unbeknown to him the school had sent his brilliant work to the National Coal Board. During the following week he had received a parcel from Brookhouse Colliery which was just a few miles away. In the parcel were the boots and a letter telling him they would be offering him a job when he left school in two years time, as a minor miner.

 

Twenty seven minutes after the pit boots talk Zakes was stood on the Newstead Estate hoping some other people passing by would also admire his creamy white mining boots. After a few minutes Zakes became bored but he didn’t kick his heels because he didn’t want to scuff his creamy white mining boots. Moments later Zakes heard the sound of female shoes nearby clicking towards him. This was a sound Zakes loved to hear along with the sounds of rustling underskirts and the rasping of sheer stockings when girls were on the move. Before Sylvia Silverside would reach to where Zakes was standing he had already pulled down his blue and purple sloppy joe to cover any obvious excitement. Sylvia whose parents had a quartet of silver birch trees in their back garden was a girl who thought she was a cut above the rest. In fact Sylvia was quite a coarse person, and she was very proud of her bouncy blonde hair because it got her the immediate attention of the local lads in the vicinity of the area she lived in. She was a believer in the saying, ’Blondes have more fun’, but she overlooked another saying, ‘But brunettes remember it the next day’.

 

Whilst he was chatting and eyeing up sexy Sylvia, Zakes noticed over the road two men walking gaily by who had been shopping. The string bag one of them carried had given the game away. Among the items in the netted bag were a medium sized bottle of Camp Coffee, a big box of Sugar Puffs, a shiny box of Cadbury’s Chocolate Fudge and a box of Daz washing powder. On seeing Zakes the two men waved to him in an acknowledging way, and Zakes responded in his usual friendly manner by showing them the splayed erect middle and index fingers of his right hand, held up high. Zakes had seen these two men afore and he found them to be okey dokey. Zakes also knew from his days past at public infant’s school that, Vertrauen is good, but Kontrolle is better. He didn’t doubt these two men, but he always crossed his braces when he was ever near to where they lived.

 

A few weeks back ago Zakes had overheard a conversation atween his mum and a neighbor called Mrs Rimmer, who hailed originally from Bolton. They were discussing whether a couple in a relationship and living together should be Frank and E(a)rnest.

 

Three minutes before the end of this typical day in the life of a 13 year od boy, Zakes was rudely awoken by a loud crashing sound followed by an ear piercing shriek. He quickly slipped into his green Wally Gator slippers then flew down the flight of stairs. In the hallway Zakes could see the light was on behind the kitchen door that stood half ajar. Zakes inched the door further open with his left foot until it was fully ajar, and saw Dad Zakes laid prone in a heap upon the kitchen floor. Lots of red blood was speedily seeping from his body which offered an interesting contrast to the white lino covered flooring.

Stood next to the bleeding corpse was a tear stained Mum Zakes. She held in her left hand a 58 inch long bloodstained bread knife. She turned gaunt faced towards her youngest lad and softly declared, ”I’m so sorry son, but yer Dad’s pegged out.”

 

---------- Post added 14-04-2013 at 07:11 ----------

 

Paragraph 1 correction.

Orwin was now settled in having lived here for a pair of months on Newstead Road. Orwins new parents were called Mr and Mrs Foster who hailed from glossy Gloucester, a cheesey town famous for it’s Severn river, Sheffield only had five.

 

Paragraph 5 alteration.

Omo washing powder

[memari laine]

Zakes, I get from your latest post that, these musings of yours are being written through the tears of clown?? That must be a very hard thing to live with.

[zakes]

Yes Memari well spotted. My mum hated me and I was scared of her, that's why i was always out and about. I loved my dad. Bless you lady.

[memari laine]

What a thing to have had to live with, my heart goes out to you. I do hope this will not be the end of your musings, you have been bringing so much to so many people, and, in some ways it must be cathartic for you. I don't know what else to say, words cannot tell you how sorry i am.

[dafodil]

Yes Memari well spotted. My mum hated me and I was scared of her, that's why i was always out and about. I loved my dad. Bless you lady.

You are well loved on this forum Zakes please keep sending us your story's.

If I see it is you on line I can't wait to click in.

[lynnielass]

Lynnielass did you go in the centre spot your name rings a bell with me

 

Yes I did!!

[memari laine]

Zakes, just post an "Hello" let us know you are ok! thanks.

 

Memari Laine

[cookingfat50]

hi we lived on gleadless valley in those days andmostly sundays a man used to come round overend rd,close,drive all the roads around there he didn't have a barror but a bike with a big cold box on the front and peddle round selling his wares it had walls plastered on the cold box when he cot so far round a big refridgerated van would turn up and restock his box. i think by that time more and more ice cream vans were coming round the best one everyone will agree selling taggy's cornish ice cream great stuff but that struck the begining of the end for the vans and them supermarkets came along with their huge selection of ice cream:confused:

[speedway fan]

bhunmnkoo,,gdffd