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I had another one of those ‘did I imagine that?’ flashbacks to childhood.  This time Google bore out plenty of contemporary references to it, so it’s not just me.  For us it was a staple of Primary School aged birthday parties, for others it seems to have even been a playground game (who needs extra playground games when you can play British Bulldog?!)…

It was a song called ‘The Farmer’s in his den’ – somebody was the farmer in the midst of a ring of children, he was tasked with picking a wife.  The selected wife goes on to pick a child, who chooses a nurse, she selects a dog who, of course, picks out a suitable bone.  The game concluded with the poor child selected to be the bone getting roundly pummelled by all present as they screeched the last verse of ‘we all pat the bone!’.  The whole song was like this:

The farmer’s in his den
The farmer’s in his den
Ee-aye-ad-ee-oh
The farmer’s in his den

The farmer wants a wife
The farmer wants a wife
Ee-aye-ad-ee-oh
The farmer wants a wife

The wife wants a child
The wife wants a child
Ee-aye-ad-ee-oh
The wife wants a child

The child wants a nurse
The child wants a nurse
Ee-aye-ad-ee-oh
The child wants a nurse

The nurse wants a dog
The nurse wants a dog
Ee-aye-ad-ee-oh
The nurse wants a dog

The dog wants a bone
The dog wants a bone
Ee-aye-ad-ee-oh
The dog wants a bone

We all pat the bone!
We all pat the bone!
Ee-aye-ad-ee-oh
We all pat the bone! 

Why on earth that popped into my head is probably something I shouldn’t probe too deeply, but it’s triggered an amusing memory of Rich being ‘the bone’ I suspect at my 11th birthday party (I think 11th) it was hosted at the Nottingham Olympic Judo Club in Sneinton.  Of course, I might be wrong.  On another note, I remember getting an ace mug at that party which was blacked out until it had hot liquid in, which revealed the writing ‘Mist Rolling in from the Trent’

It’s amazing what I’ll waffle on about to avoid looking at the smug face of John Torode.

Back when all buses in Nottingham were green, except for scummy Camms ones!

Here’s one for the folk of Nottingham, particularly those who grew up as kids in the 80s and possibly 70s too.  Big wooden animals in shopping centres that doubled as children’s entertainment?  Can you remember them?  For reasons best known to my subconscious these were thrown into my mind today.

Most clearly I can remember a big wooden grasshopper, which I think had a slide built into it, that I best remember being in a side-room upstairs in the Broadmarsh Centre in Nottingham designed for children to be entertained in presumably whilst their parents perused the shops.  I imagine the shops weren’t all discount stores or emporiums of crap like it it is today.

Upon mentioning it to a colleague, he recalled the grasshopper being ‘in the wild’ – out in the shopping centre itself, he also recalled a Caterpillar, a Horse and a Frog along similar lines.  Yet another friend who I raised the topic with mentioned the grasshopper being in the other shopping centre – near where HMV is today (before it was extended to include ‘House of Fraser’ section that it has now).  When he mentioned it, it stirred possibly earlier memories of it being there, or maybe I just visualised it, I’m not sure.

That led me inexorably to remembering the pirate ship upstairs at McDonalds on Clumber Street, beloved of children’s parties.  When I was a kid I honestly don’t recall ever going to McDonalds except for birthday parties – back then it sold root beer too, and they had sinister men dressed up as Ronald McDonald and the Ham Burglar to add to the party spirit.  I’m still not a big McDonalds eater now, although I don’t imagine it’s still up there now.  I can vaguely recall that there wasn’t actually that much seating in the ship itself, and should you manage to snag one you were in an enviable position indeed!

Can anyone else remember these things?  Do you have any photos?  The best I could find was this low-res picture of the Caterpillar from the Broadmarsh Centre that has been renovated and now lives in a  school.  Is the grasshopper still there in a room off the upstairs shopping mall?  I imagine it as being absolutely massive, but then I was quite small when I last saw it so it probably isn’t all that big.

I’ve no idea why I’ve such a hankering to see a picture of it – initially I wondered whether I’d completely made it up, having had the existence validated by friends and colleagues I was surprised to not find any reference to it on the internet, unlike the other animal Broadmarsh celebrity – the Gordon Scott swinging monkey, who now apparently lives in their new shop on Lister Gate. I’m sure his extraction from the shopping centre led directly to it being so dilapidated and rubbish.

He even has his own Facebook group!

I was a big fan of seeing him too, maybe he was the foundation of my love of all things primate to this very day.  It’s decidedly possible!  So, over to you, if you found this by searching for the lost animals of the 70s, 80s and possibly 90s of Nottingham’s shopping centres, then feel free to share your recollections – and if you have pictures, well, you’ll just be the most awesome person ever!

Since I mentioned them in passing above, I found this old photo of a Camms bus in orange livery – this one’s in Derby, which is a more appropriate location for it – when I was a kid they were roundly derided as an inferior provider of transport – indeed, it was the height of insulting somebody to suggest that they succumbed to the company’s slogan: ‘Catcha Camms’

Camms Collapsibles!

For the eagle-eyed there’s a photo with the caterpillar featured in situ in the Broadmarsh Centre (up near the still-existing Wimpy) at the bottom of this page. (thanks to Thom for spotting this – I found the page earlier but didn’t identify the wooden creature in the snap!)

I had a fiddle around with the ‘Wayback Machine‘ on Archive.org today – if you’ve never used it, you can type a web address into it, and it will look at archives of how the Internet used to appear over the years.  So, armed with the knowledge of addresses I’ve called home on the ‘web over the years, it’s a fun nostalgic vanity-fest to occasionally remind oneself of, well, stuff and nonsense.

My first forays into the Internet came at sixth form – the very idea must seem crazy to today’s youngsters.  We had a trip to Nottingham University to experience it because, get this, we didn’t have the Internet at school yet.  It arrived shortly after, if memory serves, as our school finally gave up the Acorn Archimedes upon which we were taught purportedly useful things to take into the wider world of computing (not!) and installed PCs.

The first website I ever ‘made’ was courtesy of a service called Angelfire – a template-driven space where you could add some text, links, pictures and suchlike (the ‘home page’ provider of choice back in the day seemed to be Geocities but I never had one of those).   They still exist as part of Lycos – and probably offer a more sophisticated service now!  Alas the Archive doesn’t seem to have anything of my fledgling attempts on Angelfire with the exception of the splash-screen I left there upon moving away.  I’m sure it was fascinating.

Either way, this would be around 1996 or 1997 – mostly static content, largely trite and churlish (much like now), and probably involving animated gifs of Beavis and Butt-head.  Come 1998ish and I moved away from templates and was writing html in earnest – indeed, from my investigations I reckon I started ‘blogging’ (not that it was called blogging then – it was having a ‘web journal’ – and posts were much shorter then apparently, and less in-depth.

I had no knowledge of databases or content management systems I could pilfer, so posts were linear and manually added and edited or removed probably using Notepad in Windows 95 and uploaded via FTP when finished locally.  My site at this point had ‘Personal’ and ‘Academic’ sections to chronicle a bit about, well, me – and my burgeoning virtual friend base (when you made friends through Telnet talkers not Facebook!) as well as ‘real life’ friends.

Indeed, Pip and I worked quite hard to make a portal for former students of Arnold Hill to leave messages for one another etc.  Had we perhaps shown a little more endeavour on this project and considered the wider implications we might well have stumbled upon something that might have evolved into a FriendsReunited or even a Facebook.  Unfortunately the Wayback Machine doesn’t have any evidence of our efforts which is a pity!

My first ‘proper job’ post-uni was with a web host.  They gave me a domain name and some space to play with as a perk (and an opportunity to learn about the projects I supported).  I wrote a website and bastardised a perl guestbook script to create a rudimentary blog where I could actually access an online form to type in my thoughts and randomness and have it published without the need for FTP etc. This was in 2000.

Reading through some of this site, which has been well captured by the archive, is at one both fascinating and deeply dull.  Unlike now I was writing on there nearly every day.  Right up until mid-2002 when I moved to a different domain name, and started using a proper database-driven content management system called Geeklog.  I used to make themes for Geeklog which were reasonably popular – that was my first use of this very domain name, Goddammit.co.uk.

So that became a continuation of my inane rambling about life, or whatever was coursing through my mind at the time, combined with a new hobby of creating and distributing themes people could use for their own sites hosted using Geeklog.  I wrote a lot about football too, and experimented a lot with dynamic content like polls and things – and started hosting my photos online in galleries.

This was also the time when webcams were en vogue, although not like now for Skype or similar, just for vanity I guess.  They were a common feature of home pages all over the place – I generally used mine at work.  I had side-projects featuring web-cams of friends and colleagues too – we really were a strange bunch, thinking back.  I used to leave a webcam on the birds at home too (then just Lloyd and Frankie).

I can’t imagine many people derived much pleasure from it, but there you go!  I’d also developed an interest in ‘Photoshopping’ – generally making daft pictures of my friends or colleagues by pasting their faces onto other things and trying to make it look seamless.  There wasn’t much by the way of patching tools or similar back then!

At some juncture (July 2006 I suspect) I switched to WordPress – meaning Geeklog had a pretty damn good innings in terms of longevity of platform.  I can’t remember why, but it was the self-installed variant as I maintained my independent hosting I think by now on a friend’s server as I was by now working at Boots.  2007 heralded the site on this platform – the last thing I wrote on my old blog appears to have been about glass walking!  I wanted to switch to avoid the ‘admin’ of having to update software myself etc since I had moved professionally away from internet type stuff.

I also found the blog post that lamented the day I finally deigned to join Facebook – June 11th 2007.

The drawback with the archives of database-driven sites is they’re less complete than my more manual and clunky home-made efforts – but I might just make half an effort to try to retain and store some of that information.  I really have absolutely no idea what has prompted me to sit and basically write a potted history about my use of the Internet – but there you have it.  It makes a change from my music library related woes I suppose – and does confirm with some evidence (at least evidence I have) that I have been ‘blogging’ since 1998.

Good lord.  You’d think I’d have had better things to do wouldn’t you?  A little bit of me does wish I’d been better at keeping all my internet stuff ‘together’ rather than flitting to new things and abandoning my old writing – dull though it undoubtedly was.

I’ve found telly more and more unsettling lately – having a bonus week away from the office saw me drawn occasionally into the murky world of daytime TV.  A trip to see my granny exposed me to the horror that is ‘Dickinson’s Real Deals’ whilst occasionally the likes of ‘Deal or No Deal’ find their way on to the telly, indeed, Channel 4’s latest quiz offering ‘The Bank Job’ is currently reaching its’ grand finalé as I type and I’ve found it strangely compelling.

The unsettling part was reflecting on just how much telly is basically brazenly exploiting the hopes and dreams of people – Deal or No Deal is the worst, as Noel Edmonds gladly leads his 25 contestants into a game of superstition, sob stories and daring to hope by coaxing ‘what you’d do with life-changing money’ type tales just as a contestant spunks away a golden opportunity of taking home a nice chunk of cash because there’s still the possibility of more.  That’s before you even get into the plethora of reality type shows or ‘talent’ shows that I suppose trade on the same things.

Has it always been like that?  Are we really entertained by seeing people tantalised by the promise of a ‘life-changing’ event or sum of cash, more often than not only to have it taken from them.  I guess when it’s a genuine competition of knowledge or skill it’s a bit less distasteful, but when it’s randomly choosing a box it’s a glorified lottery played out for the gratification of the millions.  I intensely dislike the fact I occasionally find these things compelling viewing, I could absolve myself a little if I were enjoying the potential positive benefit – but that’s not always the case!

It’s a strange world we live in where this carrot-dangling-in-exchange-for-prime-time-tomfoolery is considered entertainment, if you really think about it.  A random thing to write about, but something that’s been idly pulsating around my mind – at least I didn’t write about iTunes Match for a change!  On the bright side, the lass from Derby just went out of ‘The Bank Job’ in the first round of the final, and I must confess I’ve entered three separate competitions on the ITV website this week – so I’m not immune either.

“What time is it, Mum?” I’m sure I must have asked with irritating frequency.
“About five minutes after the last time you asked?” a patient answer would probably return.
“What time are we going?” a change of tack, cunning.
“Not for a few hours yet!”

It was torture for a young’un still steeped in a level of selfishness and desire for instant gratification perfectly natural for the age.  Coupled with me having a brother probably mithering and hassling to the same degree, unaware of the not inconsiderable preparations underway in terms of preparing the next days dinner, not to mention the shifting of presents (possibly the wrapping of them too), the coaxing of the guinea pigs to nibble on the carrot left out for Rudolph and friends.  No, blissfully unaware, we wanted to go out.

When I look back at it like this, it becomes all too clear why my parents introduced an ‘early present for Christmas Eve’ policy, presumably to try to provide a suitable distraction to us whilst we awaited the moment when we finally got to leave the house.  Remember that as a child particularly time drags sooooo much when you’re looking forward to something, much more so than the sickly John Lewis advert will have you believe.  An hour seemed liked an age – a few? Well it might as well have been days.  A strategically given toy car or similar was probably a genius ploy to at least confine our waiting to some kind of playful productivity.

That was our routine for Christmas Eve – and it’s easy to rose-tintify the past when you look back, but it was magic – and if I try to describe it, it won’t seem it.  We used to go to our friends John and Andrea’s house for a party in their basement bar – we’d eat, listen to music (usually music that Rich and I didn’t like), as children we’d make ‘cocktails’ out of a mixture of different soft drinks, sometimes adorned with miniature umbrellas, novelty stirrers and straws – one year we hit the jackpot by finding a cache of mini sparklers to add some real pizzazz to our creations.

There’d always be a gigantic Christmas Cracker that I can remember Rich and I pulling with Alan, John and Andrea’s son, I can remember John sneaking to the stairs outside adjacent to the bar and simulating sleigh bells (not that we knew it was John at the time, of course!) to ease our departure to make sure we got to bed before Santa arrived at home.  As we advanced to adulthood I spurned developing traditions of going to the pub near our school to be with family and friends – and don’t regret it for a minute.  Naive mixed cocktails would graduate to alcohol, I probably went to some as a smoker, others with a girlfriend – but would never want to miss it.

One year when John and Andrea spent Christmas in South Africa I joined my friends in the pub instead – it was nice, we were into our second or third year of university and it was a nice reunion of sorts – I genuinely enjoyed myself, but it wasn’t quite the same.  It was good to have normal service renewed the following year.

Since John passed away the routine has been understandably broken – Andrea spends Christmas with family in Luton and, in truth, I have generally spent Christmas Eve without any particular plans and feeling rather out of sorts – so it’s quite sad but I’m actually really quite pleased to have something to look forward to this Christmas Eve.  Rich and Em have just moved into their new house and decided to have a couple of casual nights of drinks last night and tonight – I’ve opted for tonight, because whilst perhaps (no offence Rich) it doesn’t give the buzz of those childhood anticipations, it gives something to look forward to.

I’m such a maudlin sod.  However, have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year – and perhaps be a little more receptive to the inevitable march of time and that in life things will change, and perhaps allow for the fact that sometimes those changes might just be for the better.  And of course, appreciate the good times whilst they’re there, too!