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Chris Darlington »
oh! there's nothing to do in the Old Town
Posted on 11:42am Friday 10th December 2010
You can buy a wedding dress, a suntan and have your nails and hair done, book a honeymoon for two. You can buy new fireplace, curtains perhaps new furniture too wallpaper and paint or perhaps some new flooring will do. You can have your feet done your eyes tested or have aromatherapy, go the gym or have a swim and maybe even have a tattoo. You can buy car parts, bike parts and even custard tarts that’s if you want to. You can buy some lovely flowers or sit in the pubs, wine bars and cafes watching the world go by for hours. You can buy local books, fancy dress hire, take up the guitar or aim even higher. You can dry clean your clothes and buy a watch, some jewellery and a gift for aunty Flo. You can place a bet from a hot tip, play pool, and have a Chinese take away to go. You can buy a good house, at the pet shop a mouse or visit the chemists for your flu. Buy a birthday card or two, some stamps, these are very rare things today, you are still able to do. When you are laden down with shopping there are taxis and buses to take you home but don’t you be hurried. There’s a lot more in the old town so you needn’t be worried. If you outstay your welcome you can even get buried. But remember this, there’s nothing to do in The Old Town!
Chris Darlington »
wings
Posted on 10:56am Friday 10th December 2010
When I walk I am a human When I talk I am alive When I cry no one ever listens When I sing O when I sing I have the power of an Eagles wings
Chris Darlington »
Tales Of The Old Town
Posted on 7:08pm Monday 6th December 2010
Tales Of The Old Town is an affectionate look back at the old town of Runcorn,and a few of its characters,as seen through the eyes of a child growing up in the early 1960s and in to the 1970s capturing much of the local humour in the memories shared.
Chris Darlington »
The Beatles
Posted on 6:21pm Monday 6th December 2010
Many local people may know that the Beatles played at the La Scala Ballroom in Runcorn twice, 16th October 1962 and December 11th 1962, and five times at the Queens Hall, one date being in Widnes on September 3rd 1962). Brian Epstein was a very generous man and a very shrewd businessman. To aid public relations to smooth the venue and in order to get plenty of bookings and favourable write ups for the Fab Four, he would often give away a large bottle of Johnny Walker whisky to the manager of each venue they played and to journalists at the Liverpool Echo. When the Beatles played the Queens Hall Brain Epstein tried to give a large bottle of whisky to the manager of the Queens Hall, the manager’s face dropped like a stone. He had to refuse the bottle of whisky and told Brian Epstein “I can’t accept it as the Queens Hall is a Methodist Hall, alcohol is restricted on the premises and I hope there’s none back stage”. After the manager had gone the Beatles tucked into the whisky themselves.
Chris Darlington »
The Woodbines did for her
Posted on 6:07pm Monday 6th December 2010
You smoked woodbines since a kid and thought nothing of it nobody did. The nicotine slowly got its grip and took you over, the smell of old cigarettes permeated your clothes and hair. Life was carefree and every moment mattered so much conversations scattered among the smoky haze. Friendships made with the strike of a match. Later on would come the hidden catch. Smoking was all the rage, cool and grown up but soon your health deteriorated and age caught up. Then your conversations and morning’s broken by the sound of a smokers cough. Who would think life could end so quick, it wasn’t even as if you’d ever been sick. At your funeral tears were shed, if only she hadn’t smoked as a kid. The mourners file out, some itching for nicotine, you want to lift your coffins lid and shout “the woodbines did for me, they will get you too,” far to young to die at the age of forty two.
Chris Darlington »
Devils In Blazers
Posted on 5:57pm Monday 6th December 2010
Peter stretched out to reach the old boxing gloves on the coat hook in the school cloakroom. He was amazed by the sheer weight of them, the feel of the well worn leather against his skin made him feel strange. The laces had become badly knotted and took an age to unfasten. Peter tried to imagine the immense power of a huge punch from the boxing gloves coming towards him, it made him shudder at the damage that could be caused by them. He could smell the years of old sweat and lineament, it lingered in the cold air of the cloakroom. As he put on the gloves he could feel the sparks of old fights, he began to hear the roar of long gone crowds. He wondered who had worn the gloves last and how many decades ago, even before this run down secondary school had fallen in to decay. Suddenly, he was shaken from his daydreaming as the bell for the first lesson rang, he didn’t want to go in, he knew all to well what was going to happen, the class would soon become uncontrollable, and he would be subjected to more violence and torment from the bullies. Looking at the pathetic way the teacher was dressed and his total lack of discipline, Peter made himself a mental note not to follow him into that profession. Outside at break time he could feel the cool of school yard and the tight knots in his stomach as he hid from the bullies. Only the old boxing gloves had made him feel warm, for a few seconds his confidence came roaring back, he suddenly felt he had the inner strength to survive. The tail end of his last term was fast approaching, soon, bible in hand, he would be set free on the outside world. But would it be ready for the animals of 4B? The Devils in blazers. He saw the tribe of bullies heading towards the bus stop, school scarves tied tightly round their wrists and illegal cigarettes sticking out of the corner of their foul mouths. Should he face the torment and violence at the bus stop or take the cowards walk back home in the pouring rain? He walked along the wet. worn out pavements and tried to hang on to the last bit of his sanity, plotting revenge with every tired step. There was only one more day left of torturing blood and skin in the playground. The street smelled damp and of stale cigarettes, he felt sick by the time he reached home. Peter put on his calm, ‘everything is all right’ face, his parents puzzled as to why he hadn’t taken the bus again - but this was his fight, not his middle-aged mum and dad’s! Peter sat shivering in his bedroom, turned the volume up on the record player and ‘T. Rex’ blasted out. The next day there was a sense of relief as he walked out of the school gates for the last time, the head teacher gave him his leaving Bible but couldn’t even remember Peter’s name after four years. The bullies parting shots were shouts of “We know where you live!” and “You wont have teachers to stick up for you anymore!” “Don’t worry!” replied Peter, “I’ll be ready and waiting” and he raised his boxing gloved hands to the sky. In his mind he felt like an undefeated, world champion and so he walked confidently to the once dreaded bus stop. The bullies made their way to the pub, ripping up their blazers as they walked off into the distance.
Author Unknown »
The Art Of Decorating
Posted on
My Family were very poor in the sixties and seventies and could very rarely afford to decorate our house you don't notice things when you're a kid until you reach teenage years.
Author Unknown »
Runcorn Hill
Posted on
I often remember those war games at Runcorn hill, with a stick for a gun, or pretending to be cavemen, for a moment the whole landscape would change, and we would be back in prehistoric times hunting the lost dinosaurs of Weston, searching for the lost cavemen of the hill.
Chris Darlington »
Runcorn Hill Memories
Posted on 10:19am Wednesday 18th November 2009
I often remember those war games at Runcorn hill, with a stick for a gun, or pretending to be cavemen, for a moment the whole landscape would change, and we would be back in prehistoric times hunting the lost dinosaurs of Weston, searching for the lost cavemen of the hill.
Chris Darlington »
Wanted New Town Memories
Posted on 2:10pm Sunday 1st November 2009
My latest project has the working title of The New Towner’s it is in celebration of forty years of the New Town being built.
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