Chronicles Part III - back in Scotland (2)

I'm not sure exactly when it was that Dad started working for Beanstalk (shop fitting essentially), but they gave him a van and he had to travel all over Scotland, it seemed, and he was often away or late home in the evenings, so, for a few years, we didn't see much of him, apart from weekends.

I started playing for the school football team when I must have been 12 or 13, I suppose. We played our home games at Scotstoun Showgrounds on Saturday mornings. Dad used to come and watch me, but, for some reason, I was embarrassed by this and, to my eternal shame, I asked him to stop coming - and he agreed. He couldn't stop himself, of course, and he used to come along and watch the game from a distance, hoping I wouldn't notice him - I didn't, until, one day, he mentioned what a great run and shot I'd had, which smacked off the face of the crossbar!

Mum always insisted on the whole family sitting down for tea at the same time every evening - about 5:30 pm, I seem to recall. We always had 3 courses - soup, main course and sweet, followed by the three tier cake stand - rolls on the bottom, scones in the middle and cakes on top. In later years, when Jo came to tea, she couldn't believe her luck - she loved it - they only had a main course at her home!

The following photo looks like a typical tea-time scene - but it's not, as closer inspection reveals:

Clockwise from left - me, Mum, Cousin Sheila, Dawn, cousin Lesley, and (I think) Granny Chambers, Aunt Nancy's Mum.

I'm not even sure this was in our house - there's no 3 tier cake stand! I think I must be about 16 by now, so it could be about 1965. Note the linen tablecloth - seldom seen nowadays, except on special occasions, and in restaurants.

But I'm jumping ahead again. Continuing on the holiday theme, we went to Dunbar where, I think this picture of me and Dawn was taken:

As well as spending time with the Barrs, now that we were back in Glasgow, I got to see more of the other side of the family, particularly the Rodgers, who initially lived in Drumchapel, before moving nearer to us in the new "skyscraper" flats which were erected in the mid/late 60's at the same time as they were pulling down the old bungalow style "prefabs", which, as the name implies, were cheap, prefabricated houses erected hastily in the years immediately after the 1939-1945 World War II ended.

George Rodgers was married to Dad's sister, Helen, and he was a real, larger than life character. He was always laughing and telling jokes - you never seemed to see the serious side of him. I liked him a lot - it was hard not to. They had 3 children too - Heather, who was a year or so older than me; George, who's Barry's age; and Susan, who's closer to Dawn's era. By the time I was 14 or 15, Uncle George kept teasing me about whether or not I had a girlfriend yet - most embarrassing to an early teenager. He would burst in to that old Music Hall standard "I'm Shy, Mary Ellen, I'm Shy" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68sjN7sR6wg) to laughter all round as I skulked away - but I never held a grudge against him for this - how could I?

Here's a holiday snap with some of the Rodgers:

Cousin Susan, Barry, Mum, Dawn, cousin George and me.

I'm wearing the same shirt in both the above photos, so I guess they were taken about the same time. I seem to recall it as a bit of a favourite shirt. I'm also going through a bit of a middle parting phase - it must have been the popular hair style of the time.

We got to know Uncle Willie and Aunt Bunty's boys too. Willie was Dad's elder brother - a giant of a man, who was the archetypal policeman of that era. Their twins, Billy and Dugald, were older than me, as was their younger son, Alistair, who always came across as a bit odd.

I never really got to know Dad's other brother Johnny - the black sheep of the family - Dad used to call him a lazy, workshy drunk. I can only remember meeting him a mere handful of times before his early-ish death. In fact, I knew Alex better, and he was in USA for most of the time I was growing up.

I was relatively small until I was about 14, when I suddenly shot up, but I stayed a bit of a stick insect for many years - probably until I discovered beer! Why, I even wore short trousers to school until I was nearly 15 - the only one in my class still doing so. My sudden surge in height helped me to get in to a pub for the first time, however round about this time. Dad wasn't a pub goer at all, so it was all a bit of a mystery to me - and I was intrigued. I still remember the first occasion. It was the night of the school dance and most of my classmates were heading down to the Smuggler's Inn, on Dumbarton Road.

Now remember, I'm a year younger than most of the other guys in my year, so I really was chancing it, going in to a pub. I'm pretty sure we went in mob-handed, with me lurking at the back of the crowd. We sat down in the lounge there and I hoped I wouldn't be asked any awkward questions by anyone. It didn't take long for the first embarrassing moment to arrive - what did I want to drink? I hadn't a clue what to ask for, so I just repeated the order of one of the other guys - it was probably a lager.

There were other times when we went to the Smuggler's - they must have been the local equivalent of what the Douglas Arms in Banchory used to be - a young teenager's haven, where no awkward questions were asked - like, what age are you? I well remember vodkas and lime, and "whisky macs" (whisky and ginger cordial). To this day, I can't stand the thought of vodka - especially with lime - I must have had some bad experiences with it.

This must have been late 1963 by now. The 60's have now started in earnest - the Beatles have had their first number one, and the Stones are developing a reputation. I remember the Beatles coming to Glasgow in one of the many pop package tours they used to have. They started the tour at the bottom of the bill, with Roy Orbison headlining, but, by the end, their popularity had soared and they had to be promoted to be the main act, with the Big O graciously agreeing to step down to second billing - ahead of Helen Shapiro. Some school friends were going  and asked if I wanted to come? I didn't think I would be allowed - particularly as I didn't have the cash. What a fool.

It's funny this writing about your past - I've done it again - I've gone on longer than I intended and will need to stop here and save the 3rd - and hopefully, final - part of Renshaw's Chronicles, 1960-1965 until later.