[play away part one]
I think that I’ve finally discovered why I had a crush on Brian Cant when I was just a wee nipper. So yes, I’m a few days late with the news that he has been voted the ‘best children’s tv voice’, but then that’s just like me to be ten steps behind everybody else.
You can hear his voice on the following video, and also marvel at how wonderful the programmes made for kids used to be. It’s no wonder that children are growing up all wrong these days, raised on a diet of The Tweenies, Lazy Town and The Tellytubbies.
Ah, it makes me all nostalgic for other things. Things like Ivor the Engine.
Once upon a time little children were given the opportunity to watch programmes that had big words, programmes that didn’t patronise them, nor condescend them. Those were the days when smacking wasn’t tantamount to physical abuse and adults were allowed to entertain tots without having to resort to dressing up in silly costumes that made them look like odd alienistic creatures from somebody’s LSD trip. Yep, they were the good ol’ days.
Bring back Ivor.
[play away part two]
This trip down Nostalgia Lane is partly brought to you from the teenager within me, the one who didn’t actually watch Ivor or The Flumps, Button Moon or Bagpuss anymore. But the teenager within me does remember those long intoxicating nights when staying up and talking about this, that and everything [including dated Seventies programmes aimed at kids] in between was the norm … and finding someone special with whom to talk about this, that and everything in between was pretty damn groovy. And then things happen, and Irish boys come along, and an odd stolen kiss, phone calls on Christmas day, specially-made earrings, long deep meaningful letters, laughing together at Jesus [not the Jesus, but some poor lonely student we should have befriended and never did] … they all become a thing of the past, something which I can quite happily remember in later years.
And then I can get all gooey and reminiscent when I swap randomly sarcastic messages with the person who I could talk to about this, that and everything in between and he agrees to be my friend. And I think, why on earth did I ever let you get away [but I don’t mean in the romantic sense, because we were never really like that, although maybe just a tad, but not really], why did I let you stop being my sarcastic friend …
Thank you MySpace.
please God bless the folk I used to know long ago and will probably never know again xxx Elsabeth