Same Old Same

(Monday) Another fun filled week in store. Oh, the excitement is too much! Note the ironic tone of this blog post.  Cooped up in my flat like a battery chicken when it's really sunny and warm. I am hoping and even praying that the government will reduce the social distancing. It's a bit of a joke when I went out yesterday evening with Alfie and seeing people definitely not social distancing, children playing on the equipment in the playground at Oldbrook Green. The 'Rate of Transmission' of the infection rate of the coronavirus has been reduced to whatever number, I think it's 3, moved down from 4. I'm not entirely sure.

People on Oldbrook Green flying a kite. The wind was more or less perfect for such an occupation. There is something fascinating about kites. I really like them. We took Sam and Emerline to Dunstable Downs to fly his kite many years ago, although not entirely successfully. When we used to go on holiday to Frinton-On-Sea I used to fly a rather incredible box kite, which wasn't mine. It belonged to my younger brother, Sandy, who had been given it as a present, I think, by his godmother, Jane, but he wasn't in the least bit interested, so I got the pleasure of flying it. Quite high, from what I remember, on the Greensward, the grassed area between the road, The Esplanade I believe, and the promenade where the beach huts were. Quite a strong wind off the sea and it took some effort to get it to fly to the furthest extent of it's string.  A lot of effort to keep hold of it and probably a danger to low-flying aircraft. More on holidays to Frinton-On-Sea in an earlier blog post but I may write more in a future blog post.

(Tuesday) 4.02a.m. I haven't slept much. Someone in a flat below me has a television or radio on with a voice that never stops. I can't think what it can be. Not BBC or Sky News because there's no music, advertising or those 'stings' or whatever they cal them, the bits of music between items or over credits or the opening of programmes. Whatever it is, it's difficult to get to sleep. I turn on BBC News and have a cup of tea. Something to watch or listen to. They have an item about a digital television channel calle 'Talking Pictures' which has seen it's ratings rise since the start of the pandemic lockdown. It shows old programmes, most of which are black and white and run by a handful of staff. Apparently the main channels don't show black and white material. Why? Does that mean some of the classic films of the early days of the film industry aren't important because they aren't in COLOUR? So, that means that Laurel and Hardy, the Marx Brothers, Buster Keaton and a whole host of other comedy films are worthless? Absolutely not. Then how about: Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and probably the best film comedy of all, Some Like It Hot aren't worth bothering with? Are audiences so dumb that they can't be doing with black and white films? I don't think so. Surely it's the story, characters and just plain charm of these early films which makes them what they are. They survive because they are so brilliant. Oh, and then, how about the priceless Ealing comedies such as Passport to Pimlico (which is on tomorrow as I have looked at the EPG (Electronic Programme Guide), Kind Hearts and Coronets and The Ladykillers (I think the only Ealing comedy to be made in colour and also the last one made.)

The social distancing is likely to be reduced from 2 metres to 1 metre today, after the Cabinet has met this morning. It has to happen. BBC Breakfast has said that we can expect high temperatures in the next few days, possibly the highest temperatures of the year, towards the end of the week. Heat kills viruses, so it's going to wipe out the coronavirus. Just wait and see.

Later. 'I just don't believe it!' as Victor Meldew would say repeatedly in the brilliant sitcom 'One Foot In The Grave.' I have mentioned the problems I have had regarding my Television Licence. If you need a reminder, when I moved into Dexter House I made sure I had this set up so that I was 'legal , decent, honest and truthful' (an advertising slogan which was used by the Advertising Standards Authority.) I'm rambling. Going off-topic. Not keeping to the script.  Digression is the word I'm looking forAnyway, I discovered that I didn't need to pay a full licence living at Dexter House. Don't ask me how or why. You can, but you won't get an answer. I paid by cheque and it must have cleared as it shows up on my bank statement so the licensing people have proof. But I keep getting letters, beautifully printed and posted, no doubt at great expense. So . . . what on earth is going on? Making a mockery of the whole confounded TV licence business and must cost a fortune, money which could be going to the BBC to pay some hard up celebrity on their payroll who needs to probably put petrol in his/her Rolls Royce or to buy more caviare or pate de foie gras from Harrods or Fortnum and Masons.

Later still. So, that's it. Boris Johnson says the social distancing can be reduced to one metre and that more businesses can reopen. Thank goodness! Being a prisoner in your own home is no joke. But lockdown can be reenforced if there's any new infections, or something, I'm not sure of the exact words. But it's not going to happen. It's summer, the sun is out and viruses don't survive in a hot climate.

(Wednesday) A hot and humid night and I found it difficult to sleep, but the kitchen is as hot as ever. Why on earth can't the heating be reduced? It just doesn't make sense and I have mentioned it but it seemed impossible to get anyone to deal with this situation.

Family Summer Holidays- Part 5

The beach at Frinton, as I have mentioned elsewhere in this blog, is really the town's best asset. The sand is washed by the tide twice daily and comes right up to the promenade. I was really good at making sandcastles, even though I say it myself. I also made quite elaborate towns and landscapes on the beach and some of them had a network of rivers which were fed from pools of water left when the tide went out. My younger brother, Sandy, has always been interested in cars, from an early age, and had a vast collection of model cars, both Dinky Toys and Corgi. He used the roads I had built to play with these cars. One day he must have lost one of these cars and we spent some considerable time hunting for it. The following day, I was digging another sandcastle and there below the surface of the sand was the lost car, a little sandy maybe, but safe and sound. Some time later, when the sand was removed and it was dried out, it became as good as new.

I do remember one incident which occurred when unfortunately some child with whom I went to school and his family came to stay in Frinton and had a hut only a few huts along from  ours. He attempted to destroy all my hard work and effort building a castle or road lay-out but me and my brothers managed to prevent too much damage. It is somewhat unfortunate that I don't remember his name but I think his father owned or ran a shoe-making business in Northampton if my memory serves, but he was obviously a spoilt little brat if that was the way he treated other people's work and effort.

Then there was Radio Caroline. This so-called 'pirate radio' station was set up and broadcast on board a ship which was moored in the North Sea just off Frinton. You could see it from the beach. This was outside what I think they call 'Territorial Waters', several miles out to sea from mainland Britain. They were, in effect, illegal, but that didn't stop them broadcasting. Something to do with interfering with broadcasts for such things as coastguard patrols, ambulance etc.  The then-government made several attempts to put a stop to their activities, but I can't remember exactly how these 'pirate' radio stations were closed down. In the end the BBC set up Radio One and all the BBC radio stations changed their names from Home, Light, Third etc to Radios 1,2,3 and 4. It wasn't until the 1980's that the Conservative Government bought in legislation to set up legal, local, commercial stations such as LBC, Capital Radio etc etc. I'm not exactly a pop music fan, but it was quite a newsworthy incident when the Radio Caroline ship was set adrift during a very heavy sea one night and drifted on-shore to  be beached on the Frinton shore. It was in all the newspapers and other media at the time.

* * * *

So, what else do I remember about holidays in Frinton? Shrimping. Using nets purchased from shops in the town, somewhere along Connaught Avenue. Collecting the shrimps in buckets and then cooking them on the Calor gas ring in the beach hut and eating them. I also recall a lobster, not one we'd caught ourselves. I think my father had been given it by some fisherman or something and taking it back to the house and it being kept in the kitchen, with it's claws tied together to stop it nipping all and sundry and then being cooked. I don't think my mother relished the idea of killing it and then boiling the poor thing. But I like lobster and I suppose you don't think so much about how they are killed when you are younger. I  was probably not aware of this, having been bought up on a farm and rearing calves, pigs and lambs and then sending them off to the abbatoir.

Then there was the very violent thunder storm over Frinton one night. It seemed to go on for hour after hour, the lightening causing a fire along the top of the cliffs and seeing the grass scorched the next day. The thunder sounded, from what I remember, very much like  a railway train running over rails, extremely loud and very frightening. I suppose I would have been nine or ten at the time.
Something else. Kite flying. My brother Sandy had been given this amazing box kite. Unfortunately he wasn't in the least interested in flying it, but I was. The Greensward at Frinton, as mentioned earlier in another post, is a grassy area that runs the entire length of the town's shore-side and as the winds are perfect for flying kites, blowing in from the sea and it was a perfect clear space, all adding to the perfect conditions. When out at it's furthest extent on it's line, it must have been really high. I don't think I've experienced kite-flying quite as good as at Frinton, perhaps the nearest to it would be at Dunstable Downs, just along the road from Whipsnade Zoo. It certainly kept me amused for many hours.