nostalgia – Maddie Grigg

Animal Magic

Back in the day, when the telly was our babysitter while Mum and Dad were doing the milking, my older brother would frequently beat me up.

He would whack me with cushions, laugh at my preoccupation with Peter Tork from The Monkees and generally make fun of me.

He’ll deny all of it now, of course, but I distinctly remember telling him, in all earnestness: ‘If a policeman said I was allowed to kill you, I’d do it.’

A few years later, he was fighting for his life after a dreadful scooter accident, and I’m ashamed to say my first, fleeting thought was ‘ooh, maybe I can have his bedroom’, which is terrible, but that’s how it is with children.

We’ve patched up our differences now, which is just as well.

But one of the things we did enjoy together was sitting down on a weekday night (was it a Wednesday?) to watch Animal Magic with Johnny Morris.

A Facebook friend posted about this children’s programme recently, which jogged my memory.

Gosh, I loved that show. As soon as the theme tune started, we were transfixed. Johnny Morris’s voices for the animals were brilliant. This anthropomorphic treatment of animals fell out of fashion latterly but, I think, as children it gave us a real empathy for the creatures in Johnny’s zoo.

We know now that captivity is not right for wild animals. All those cages and confined spaces and humans lining up to gawp and stare.

But Morris was an environmentalist and his kindness shone through, and the nation’s love for animals flourished as a result.

When I was seven, I wanted to be a zookeeper when I grew up, solely because of Johnny Morris and Animal Magic. This yearning went on a for a couple of years before I declared at nine or ten that I wanted to be a journalist on the strength of seeing the screwball comedy film His Girl Friday.

And I never got to muck out the lion or wash the elephant.

Animal Magic was staple fodder for my generation. It went on from 1962 to 1983. Classic stuff.

Wikipedia tells me: ‘The signature tune, “Las Vegas”, performed by Group Forty Orchestra, was written by Laurie Johnson for KPM in 1960.^[3][4] It more recently featured as the theme music for BBC Two comedy W1A (2014–2017). Around 1980, the original orchestral version was replaced by a funk arrangement (featuring an electric guitar with a wah wah pedal).’

I know which one I prefer!

I’ll give it foive

For just shy of a year, I’ve been doing a daily pop quiz online called Popquizza.

I can’t be bothered with Wordle (sorry!) and Sudoko brings me out in a rash (maths?) but give me ten random questions on pop music and it gets the old brain cogs whirring every morning.

Depending on the era, I usually manage to do reasonably well, my pop music knowledge informed by being the youngest of five and the child of parents who liked anything from the musicals of Rodgers and Hammerstein and Gustav Holst’s The Planets to Joan Baez and Elias and his Zig-Zag Jive Flutes.

In our house, it was anything from The Everly Brothers, Joni Mitchell, Lou Reed, The Brothers Johnson, Somerset folk songs and Steely Dan, depending on the sibling.

And then I came along, loved all of it and added my own punk and ska twist and then, latterly, techno and electronica.

So when a friend put me on to the daily quiz, it seemed like a good idea at the time. But I realise now that I have whole gaps in my pop music knowledge, which corresponds with being a grown-up and not caring very much.

I’ve had a few ten out of tens but, for some unknown reason, I keep getting a five or, as I like to say ‘foive’ in honour of Janice Nicholls who said famously ‘oi’ll give it foive’ on Thank Your Lucky Stars, a remark which apparently catapulted the 16-year-old Black Country clerk to fame.

According to Nostalgiacentral.com, she remained a regular on Thank Your Lucky Stars for three years, and her phrase entered British colloquial speech.

The show concluded in the summer of 1966, when I was coming up to foive. I don’t even remember it. But clearly it entered my family’s colloquial speech, because we’re still saying it now.

I’m sure you’ll be thanking me for that earworm today. You’re welcome.

Love, Maddie x

Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be

We’ve just shelled out £6.50 on a Christmas Radio Times.

Mr Grigg wasn’t too happy, but, with my work background, I appreciate the many hours it takes to put something like this together. And, let’s be honest, the heyday of printed magazines and newspapers is long gone, so it’s good to support an industry on its knees.

I didn’t begrudge the money, partly because a shed-load of features awaited and the specially-crafted front cover with Gromit and Shaun the Sheep promoting Fleece Navidad looked very inviting.

I plunged into one of the articles with relish, as I don’t usually sit down long enough to read a magazine. But I gave up after the first few columns – the writer obviously had their own agenda and referred to themselves far more than to their famous subject, who seemed, not surprisingly, irritated at the tone of questioning.

Ah well, at least the magazine gives us a heads-up on what delights to watch over the Christmas period.

But apart from the aforementioned Fleece Navidad and a Christmas special of Gone Fishing with Paul Whitehouse and Bob Mortimer, nothing really sprang out when Mr Grigg read aloud some of the programmes lined up for the festive season.

Bullseye, Morecambe and Wise and Jaws being some of them.

“Are we living in 1975 or what? Where’s the new stuff?” I asked.

Glancing over his shoulder, I saw that Mrs Brown’s Effing Boys (as I call it) also puts in an appearance, which is a good reason not to tune in to the telly and, instead, stick to singing songs around the piano, although we don’t have one.

If this regression into the past continues on our television screen, with repeats, remakes and nostalgic series at the fore, then I have a suggestion.

If we’re going to be borne back ceaselessly into the past, please can we see a return of the jaunty theme tune that was used for the ITV news back in the 60s and 70s? It made what was coming up in the bulletin so much more palatable.

At a time when the world seems a more dangerous place than ever, it might be nice to be lulled into a false sense of security with the comforting, nostalgic tones of this classic.

Here it is in all its full-length glory: