General News
19 November, 2024
REMINISCING: Life before electronic media — By Brian Lennen
What did we do to amuse ourselves in the days before social media How did we exist without television, mobile phones and the internet?
Predominately we spent most of our time in the company of our family members and our mates.
The weekends consisted of two totally different days.
Saturday was full of sport and social events.
Sunday was a shut down, everything was closed — all shops, all entertainment venues (theatres, hotels, movies, etc).
No sport was to be played local or professional. In fact shops that breached this curfew were prosecuted.
A famous case was Penhalluriack’s Hardware who fought a long battle for Sunday trading and lost.
Sundays were family days, usually featuring a roast lunch. This lunch was an institution often comprising a leg of roast mutton with potatoes, pumpkin, cauliflower, swede, turnip, peas and beans supplemented with a homemade meatloaf smothered in gravy (usually mopped up with crusty bread).
After hand-washing the dishes the men would “take a pipe”.
Next the family headed off for a walk around the block. The walk was interrupted by constant chats with neighbours who sat under their verandahs.
As kids we dressed in our Sunday best (usually our only decent outfits).
Dinner (the evening meal) was often preceded by some rudimentary games such as a “jiggy”, “hidey” or “hopscotch”. Often the adults joined in.
The leftovers from lunch were made into sandwiches with home made pickles or relish or turned into “bubble and squeak”. They were devoured like a “king’s feast”.
If still hungry we ate thick slices of bread lathered with home made plum jam (from the backyard tree).
Lil, Aunty Pat’s best friend, often brought around “treacle cake” for supper. It was a heavy sponge floating in rich treacle sauce.
The wireless set was tuned to “Dad & Dave” preceded by its unforgettable theme “On the road to Gundagai”.
We had many favourites, one was “Inner Sanctum” as everyone sat huddled in the lounge room. Boris Karloff, the doyen of horror, made his invitation.
Backed by a creaking door, Karloff made the hair on everyone’s necks stand up.
On a wet winter’s night I rode my bike to the Adelphi Theatre to watch Boris do his stuff in the movie “The House of Wax”. Afterwards I rode home at a murderous rate to an empty home.
Today I still have it etched on my sub-conscious.
Of course football and cricket dominated the sport’s broadcasts along with tennis which Australia once dominated. Norman Banks was the calm, articulate football broadcaster whose other claim to fame was that he founded “Carols by Candlelight” at the Myer Music Bowl.
Alan McGilvray had almost a reverential following on the cricket even when he wasn’t at the game.
I have previously mentioned the crowd at the newsagents waiting for the Herald & Sporting Globe.
This was because there was no Sunday paper.
Fish shops were so busy that queues 20 people long were waiting outside. Most people (practising Christians or not) observed no meat on Friday.
Six o’clock closing brought the “six o’clock swill” with drinkers lining up several pots before closing. Hotels were the only legal outlet for drinkers.
Almost every hotel housed an illegal SP (starting price) bookie. The baker or fruiterer was often an SP operator who visited door-to-door.
The local “place card” operator holidayed at the Gold Coast every year and always drove the latest model car. The TAB was introduced to stop SP betting.
Even though most of my cousins disliked mushrooms there was always great excitement when a rich ring was found on a hillside.
Yabbying with string and rancid meat was an exciting adventure, particularly when boiled and tossed in pepper and vinegar on sliced buttered bread.
Saturday afternoon was the movie matinees with their serials — Black Arrow, Jungle Jim, Zorro, Batman, Superman, Felix the Cat and The Shadow were some of the favourites. The hero was always in a diabolical situation when the episode ended “come back next week to see how the hero survives!”
Jack Davey, the irreverent radio news presenter (everyone’s favourite uncle) made light of the world’s news, whether it was good or bad. He had a “tongue in cheek” slanging match with expatriate Americans Bob and Dolly Dyer.
Their successful radio show “Pick A Box” became the most popular television program whereas Davey failed to make the transition.
The Dyers launched the career of Barry Jones, the quiz genius and politician.
The moustached Jones is still going strong. Recently I sat nearby in a Asian restaurant as he dominated the conversation with a group of former politicians.
As kids we rushed to listen to “Biggles” — tales of a war fighter pilot. “Tarzan” started with a spine tingling call and the antics of his constant companion “Cheetah” a chimpanzee.
Orson Welles’ Mercury Theatre had a listening audience of over 50 million. His production of “War of the Worlds” was so effective that most listeners believed it to be real. People abandoned their homes and several were accidently killed trying to escape the invading Martians.
Edgar Allan Poe’s gothic tales were suitably horrendous. Tales such as The Black Cat transferred all its horrors on radio.
“D24”, the fore-runner of “Homicide” was a dramatic broadcast of the scene of actual crimes with the flustered reporter on hand.
School libraries offered a meagre collection of texts. The grade readers and school papers gave a sampling of the classics.
When working with the elderly I was amazed to hear them quoting Shelley and Byron (all learnt from the readers).
The much condemned Enid Blyton dominated the fiction shelves. Noddy, Golly and Big Ears were no-nos.
Despite an unsophisticated and under-resourced environment the outcomes were excellent.
A wet Sunday meant that the family was confined to home. This didn’t create a dilemma.
The dining table was cleared, draped in cloth and the “bobs” were set (an adaption of pool).
On the back verandah the quoits were extremely popular as was darts and hookey.
The men settled down to card games, usually euchre, grandad and his mates were avid fans of cribbage, considered the “chess of cards”.
The women and young girls would fuss over each other, doing their hair and idly chatting about local gossip.
Thinking back to those days gives me a warm feeling.