It was a 'dowly' sort of day (From Gazette & Herald)

It was a 'dowly' sort of day

A 'dowly' sort of a day again, Saturday, and it's damp and misty, but I needed to go to York, so that was that.

An ambulance was attending to someone at Butcher Corner as I passed through, but whether this was something involving a car or not I don't know. And then there was a crash at Crambe Beck Bridge, with the various services in attendance. It wasn't a good day for driving: the mist was low and patchy, the roads were wet and the traffic was dense, one of those times when you pay that bit of extra attention to both your own driving and the other chap's. I saw ahead of me an articulated bulker, fully loaded with sugarbeet, and the thought crossed my mind to overtake him whilst on the dual carriageway, so that I wasn't stuck behind him once I got to the two-lane road. Once over the top of Whitwell, I went closer, found that he was doing something over 70mph, so I gave him best. I didn't see him again, so I needn't have worried about him holding me up.

More on motor vehicles. I'd previously mentioned about North and East Riding police vehicles, and ex-police officer Arthur Dunning, also ex-Norton Boys' School, rang to remind me that the East Riding did, in fact, have some better vehicles than the Ford Anglia and Populars which were just local station cars. In fact, they were very desirable in their day, and more so now, MG TCs, in the years 1947 to 1951. These were all black and there were 11 of them altogether, operated by ten constables, each of whom was responsible for his own vehicle. No sirens at that time, but they did have a loud hailer with which they were able to request a motorist to pull over. No flashing lights, either, but there was a black and white sign across the back, atop the fuel tank with the word POLICE on. A hard ride, as I can vouch, and not without a few draughts. No heater and no radio, as there wasn't room for the equipment, but with a respectable 85mph, which was good at that time, I'm sure they were quite adrenaline-raising to any young constable who happened to be lucky enough to get himself into the Traffic Section. After the MGs, which Arthur tells me were replaced by Austin A70s, they were disposed of. Some of them ended up in the States, and as a few had been supercharged, I expect these would be much sought after. Mention of the loud hailer reminded me how I'd borrowed a car to go to New Earswick where I was a member of the Camera Club, and I was creeping home in this little old Standard saloon, puffing our way up Whitwell Hill, when there was this awful noise behind and a North Riding PC, who obviously knew I had the car, deafened my eardrums with: "For goodness sake, get a move on". "Doing my best, Frank" I replied, but he wouldn't hear as he whizzed past in a Zephyr. Happy days.

It rained in York today, but a smiling chap in wet weather gear, his black and white sheepdog likewise with a mac on, was sitting in Parliament Street, strumming a guitar and singing (the chap not the dog!). Folk stopped to listen, take videos and generally appreciate his performance, which was quite excellent. A busker with a difference. Perhaps he had his Volvo, or BMW parked in a nearby street, but that didn't stop me dropping a contribution into his collecting tin, behind which sat his dog, for his performance was easily worth more than the few pence I handed over, and he brought a touch of sunshine to a grey day.

Not so the shop in Colliergate, where I've passed more than once this week. For here, with doors wide open, comes the bang, bang, bang of today's muzac. No melody, no vocal just someone banging on a drum, simply a repetitive beat which doesn't do anything musically for anyone. Yet there are those who like it. How the shop staff communicate with customers above the noise, I'll never know. Well, they did it in the '30s and '40s above the noise of the flying shuttles in the Lancashire and West Riding weaving mills, just by facial expression and lip movement. Perhaps that's the secret.

Regular reader Geoff Wood of Robin Hood's Bay rang me this evening. He was reminded of my much earlier columns where the subject was 'FORCE'. He is reading a book on the USA and told me how a dish was 'invented' in 1890 which was called 'Cream of Wheat', by a gent with the name Jim Dumps, who had a reputation of being somewhat unfriendly. He was boss of the Hornby Oats Co which ultimately produced FORCE. Its popularity changed Jim's outlook on life, and a musical ditty was written in which he was referred to as 'Sunny Jim' and of course that's how he stayed pictured, with the produce ever since. Which reminds me, next time I'm in Helmsley I must replenish my stock, for that fair town boasts the nearest outlet that I know of, and it makes a pleasant ride out, combined with a snack to put the gilt on the gingerbread.

You might just have to read this one twice!

A smile from my RCAF Newsletter. "A father was reading Bible stories to his young son. He said: 'The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city, but his wife turned back and was turned to salt.' His son asked: 'What happened to the flea?'"

Updated: 15:52 Thursday, February 15, 2001