When I was a kid in the Sixties Sunday morning meant one thing, Church. At 10 'o' Clock I trudged and stomped to Sacred Heart with my family to listen to old language I didn't understand and be intoxicated by strong wafted incense! I spent the whole hour day dreaming about my toys punctuated with the occasional yawn, which would be promptly stifled by my Mum!
At 11 'o' Clock we went home and I could resume the serious business of being a kid again. Invariably my mate Robin would call round and ask my Mum if I was playing out. Depending on how we both felt and of course the British weather, we would either stay in and mess with some Airfix, SWORD, SpaceX, Action Man etc or we would play out.
Playing out meant bikes and Raleigh Choppers were the order of the day. With their long saddles, high handlebars and huge gear stick, it was like sitting on a rocket! We'd jazz up our Choppers with American flags on long bendy aerials and stick metallic badges on the body. We'd add plastic tassles to the handlebars and best of all, we'd peg thick card to the wheel brace so it clicked every time a spoke hit it. A fantastic ratatatat sound erupted as we cruised the streets of Ashton on the coolest bikes that ever existed!
I recently visited those streets again, where my Brother still lives. For a few blissful moments, lost to the world, I was back on my Chopper doing wheelies with Robin in the middle of the road!
What did you do on Sundays as kid readers?
Robin [ left ] and me looking cool circa 1970
- our Choppers must be parked up!
