A child of mine insists that there is no such thing as “generations” because squillions are born every day.
And he still lives here with his parents!
I remember the 1970’s VIVIDLY. Everyone and his uncle were on strike. No rubbish collections. No water. No electricity. No trains. No nothing. That wonderful vibe of “not my problem, mate, sort it out yourself.”
THIS IS WHY I AM PUNK.
We did our homework by candlelight. Went to bed with hot water bottles. Collected rain water….bought batteries for our cassette players, radios and torches.
I grew up with coal fires, central heating was unheard of, woolly blankets and feather eiderdowns adorned every bed, double glazing was decades ahead, buying your own home was as easy as a moon landing and the fave family meal was hot cheese on toast with a slice of ham and a fried egg on top. Or Marmite sandwiches. Or porridge made with milk and salt. God’s Honest Truth :o)
Both my brothers and I all started working for a wage aged 11 and bought our own clothes and music.
I live with 3 Millennials now and have turned into my own parents.
1976 was the Year of Global Warming.
Elton John & Kiki Dee? BARF.
In 74/75 a group of us went with Mr Walsh (our form teacher) for a week in Gosport aboard the HMS Foudroyant. He’d miscalculated the space theory of a minibus with 8 teenagers and all their luggage. We travelled from Lincolnshire down to the south west coast of England with Radio 1 on. Mr Walsh did NOT appreciate us all singing along to Ian Dury, Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick as we all sat atop our luggage!
Many more stories of this trip available
Shakespeare and Sex Pistols?
Uncontrolled Historian 