It’s funny how things turn out sometimes: Paul asked me to write a few a words just at the same time as I had recently returned from a day trip to Blackpool. Actually day trip is a bit of a misnomer as it was more like a half day trip because any longer and depression starts to set in, after looking at a once vibrant seaside town well past its best. I must admit I’m not quite sure why I still go to Blackpool: obviously there’s the pilgrimage to David Nightingale’s shop to see if he has any new Thunderbirds merchandise, but I think the main reason I go is that it does evoke memories of a happy past.
Being born in the mid-sixties a day trip to Blackpool was always something to look forward to. If the weather was fine we could play on the beach and paddle in the sea, in the days when we didn’t pay too much attention as to what exactly was floating past us. Then after a picnic lunch we would go for a walk around the shops. Not the posh ones like Lewis’s or Binns, but the small shops that lived in the various back streets off the Promenade. Now, if you’re not of a certain age you are probably wondering why is this guy getting all misty eyed about looking into to pound shop windows. But back in the late sixties and seventies we still had these things called toy shops. Not large chain stores all selling the same thing wherever you go, but small family run businesses that sold different things, and Blackpool was a Mecca for these kind of shops. Whilst we didn’t have a lot of money it was just fascinating looking into these shop windows which were like looking into Aladdin’s cave for a youngster, and it would be an unusual visit if I did not receive a treat of some kind.
The beauty of toy shops in Blackpool over anywhere we visited was that they tended to keep old stock, so this meant that even into the mid seventies you could pick up a rare Century 21 treat. I’ve mentioned in some posts on the eagletransporter.com forum how I would have picked up the Stingray Sub-carrier on one of these visits, which although extremely well played with and minor some parts was recently unearthed during a rummage through my garage.
One of the trips that will always stick in my mind would have occurred during the mid-seventies. After years of looking for a Thunderbird One toy or model to complete my well played with set of Rosenthal TB vehicles, Mum, Dad and I were about to cross the road after parking up at the old central station, when my Dad suddenly made a dash across the road yelling “they’ve got one”. Mum and I looked at each other wondering what the heck they'd got and after carefully crossing the road using the Green Cross Code, as we all did in those days, found Dad pointing at the battery operated JR TB1 in a toy shop window. Now these days a shop would consider this a collector’s item and price it accordingly, but to the shopkeeper it was just something he had found on a shelf in a store room and was just looking to sell it to make room for new stock. You can tell how long the shopkeeper had kept it as it was still priced up in old money and we had to try and convert it from something like 14/6 to seventy-odd new pence. Fortunately when I got this beauty home I was a little bit older than when I had received the likes of TB2 and 4, which have suffered the indignities of being extremely well played with, and treated it with a little more respect so that it still resides in nice condition in its box in my bedroom.
I also remember another trip when I was that little bit older when I noticed a box for a JR TB3 in the window of the shop under a pile of the usual tat that you find in seaside shops. Obviously we had to go in and ask for it, but were most disappointed to find that it was purely an empty box the shopkeeper was using to prop something up. Of course, at the time we never even considered asking if we could have the box, because it was considered something that you would normally throw away whenyou got the toy home.
And that is something that I think people have lost these days: whilst we can buy fantastic ready made replicas and toys of our favourite characters and vehicles that far surpass the quality of toys produced years ago, we have forgot to enjoy them for what they are and not as future investments. Whilst the toys of yesteryear have needed viewing under a dim light with your eyes squinted for you to convince yourselves that this was an accurate replica of that on-screen model, our imagination filled in the gaps, so to speak, and we played with them and had fun with them. I cannot but wonder if future generations will have such happy memories of their youth, because there is not the same need to use their imaginations; and that’s if their parents let them play with toys and not keep them “mint in box” because they might be worth something one day: which they wont , of course, because everybody keeps things unplayed with because of the hope of future wealth, and we all know that high value of old toys comes about because people didn’t keep them as something precious.
Please don’t get me wrong: as an adult collector please enjoy your perfectly preserved treasures. I just hope that future generations are given a chance to enjoy themselves as we once did, and every now and again why not get that model out of the cabinet and fly it round the room making the appropriate vroom-vroom noises and let out that small child that is still hiding inside you.
Barry Ford
September 2009
Excellent piece Barry, a really great read. Took me back to my Lancashire childhood. You had a great Mum and Dad! Can't decide whether I'd rather be in Sixties Blackpool or your garage! Does everyone have a favourite toy shop I wonder? Mine was Thomas Mears in Preston!, where I got all my SWORD and stuff! Nice one. Cheers, Paul
