Fat Dog's Yellow Bike
By Brick Wall
Does Roger remember, as I do - (and who could ever forget) - his 'buttercup yellow' bike? There were four of us who used to knock about together on Limeside, on our bikes.
Roger, Les Thomas, Dave Griffiths and myself. Les and I lived on First Avenue, he at No 10, I at No 4. Dave lived on Sixth Avenue and Roger lived on the other side of Hollins Road, Milford Avenue in the 'posh bit'.
One day for no apparent reason, except that he took to the idea, Roger decided to repaint his bike. So he stripped it down and painted it the brightest yellow you have ever seen, it was certainly proof against it being nicked.
We used to go everywhere on our bikes and in those days you could leave them anywhere.
In Roger`s 'front room' at home they had the biggest radiogram you have ever seen, it wasn`t just big, none of your G Plan low slung rubbish, it was massive. Roger took great delight in playing 'Love Letters' by Ketty Lester - now there`s an old record for you. This record, if anyone can remember, has a great bass sound and Roger used to really screw up the volume and bass, so much that the windows rattled ( but only when his mum was out).
We were the original neighbours from hell.
(Editor - Roger emailed me when he saw Richard's piece being flagged up on the blackboard. He denies painting his bike buttercup yellow. He says it was a tasteful lime green).
Memories of woodwork
Having read one of Vinnies many tales particularly the one mentioning the famous woodwork stool, here are my memories of making the stool under the guidance of Mr. Firth. The most difficult part of its construction was that of making the mortice and tennon joints. These had to be pretty accurate or your finished stool was anything but square. Stan Firth gathered everyone around his bench and demonstrated how to make the mortice (that`s the square hole for those of us who are not practical). He got out his chisel and his mallet and proceeded to hit the former with the latter and counting out loud "one, two, three and clear". That meant that after the third hit you had to remove the chisel and clear out the cut wood from the hole, easy. We all returned to our benches and the room was filled with the sound of mallets bashing chisels. Yours truly thought that this “one, two, three clear” would take too long, so bang, bang, bang, bang, bang,bang,bang, until all of a sudden a very loud voice shouted
"WALL ! "
"Yes sir ?"
"CAN YOU COUNT TO THREE LAD ?"
"Well give it a go lad."
"One, two, three sir."
"Well done, Wall. Now carry on and count out loud for everyone to hear."
Eventually the stool was finished although I wonder to this day how I managed it.
Funny what you remember.