I was reminiscing today about radio shows from my childhood. Does anyone remember anything about the advert on Radio Luxemburg that ended with: ‘Keynsham, spelt K-E-Y-N-E-S-H-A-M, Keynsham, Bristol?’ I recall the strap line, I just can’t recall what it’s for?
Wasn’t Hughie Green on Radio Luxemburg too? I remember, vaguely Michael Miles and ‘Take Your Pick’ but I have no recollection of what Hughie Green actually did, (probably something unsavoury involving a ‘Clapometer’).
While we are on the subject of old-time radio I remember visiting my grandma and finding her sitting with an ear to the speaker of an enormous HMV multi-valve wireless with the volume turned up full blast (she was extremely deaf).
My granddad sat in his armchair in the small living room, lit only by the glow of a coal fire. Sometimes, even today, I can catch the aroma of Thick Twist tobacco drifting from his pipe, a clear indication that all was well in my small world.
"Hello Granddad," I’d shout above the booming wireless.
"Eeh, look whose ‘ere. Come on in lad, that just in time for ‘Have a Go.’ And for the next half hour I would sit on my granddad’s knee and feel as safe and secure as any child could be.
Both he and my gran always sang: ‘Have a go Joe, come and have a go.’
I remember Wilfred Pickles asking, "What’s on the table, Mable?"
I had no idea what it was and I didn’t care. I could have sat by the fire in that smoke filled sitting room with the two people I adored forever.
What about Educating Archie? A ventriloquist’s dummy with its own weekly radio show, how bizarre was that?
Can anyone recall Life with the Lyons? I know it involved Bebe Daniels and Ben Lyon but after that my mind’s a blank.
My dad loved ‘Dick Barton Special Agent’ and I always tried to sneak an extra five minutes playtime while he was distracted.
He also enjoyed Quatermass which frightened the living daylights out of me; so much so that I was terrified of going to bed afterwards and had to be read ‘Black Bob the Sheepdog’ as an antidote.
What about Workers’ Playtime? Wasn’t that a programme left over from the war years? I seem to remember it was a kind of variety show transported from one company canteen to another. I can understand how uplifting it must have been to exhausted factory workers going flat out to sustain the war effort while their loved ones were scattered around the globe fighting for freedom.
What memories does Two Way Family Favourites evoke? For me it’s playing in the garden with my dad clipping the privets and the wonderful aroma of Sunday dinner roasting in the oven. My mum always made apple pie for desert (she called it ‘pudding’) and smothered it with Ambrosia Cream Rice (remember that?)
I never liked Housewives Choice, I don’t know why maybe because the only time I heard it was when I was absent from school with some highly contagious disease? I recall lying in bed covered in spots while my mother hung washing from the line. It always seemed to be sunny when I was ill, which was even more depressing.
Guess what I just remembered? When I was a teenager my parents listened to The Black and White Minstrels on the wireless. Who, in their right mind, would produce a show, which required blacking up on the radio?
My grandparents’ listening habits were shaped by the war years. No one was allowed to speak when the news was on. It meant very little to me, except that I had to be quiet but I can appreciate where this obsession came from. My grandfather fought in the First World War and served as an air raid warden in the Second. He still had his helmet and gas mask hanging in the closet.
He and my grandmother spent countless, anxious hours huddled around the wireless praying for good news. Details of the retreat from Dunkirk, the fall of France, the Battle of Britain, and ultimately ‘D’ Day all came to them via the BBC.
Their freestanding HMV wireless with its huge impressive circular dial, countless knobs and plaited three-ply electric cord held pride of place. It was cherished, dusted and polished with loving care. Mr Churchill himself was not held in higher esteem. I would often hear my granddad singing ‘Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag’ or ‘Run Rabbit’ without ever realising the significance of their history dividing, as they did, the two World Wars.
My Auntie Alice was an office cleaner and would come home through the back door shouting, ‘Shall I do you now, sir?’ It never failed to make the family laugh. Little did I realise it was a much loved radio catch-phrase from a period of great uncertainty.
Some time during my childhood television appeared and the wireless, having served the nation so faithfully, was cast aside by an ungrateful public beguiled by black and white images on a tiny screen
But not everyone forgot their debt of gratitude. At 29, Saint Anne’s Road television never crossed the threshold. My beloved grandparents remained stoically by their ‘Masters Voice’ until the late Sixties when, after eventful lives, they were no longer able to ‘Have a Go’.
