Comments
'And finally, not everyone’s being doing topical. In fact, here’s the rather lovely 6 Oxgangs Avenue devoted to the history of the development of the area, this week highlighting how the block of flats came into being. Could have been prompted by Who do you think you are? Or just a timely reminder that not everything worth blogging about is in the here and now.'
Kate Higgins, Scottish Roundup 26/08/2012
Showing posts with label Noggin The Nog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Noggin The Nog. Show all posts
Sunday, 25 November 2012
Dolloping Doubloons-It's Captain Pugwash!
Sunday teatimes in winter were spent at our grandparents house at Durham Road, Portobello. These were a mix of sweet and sour occasions. Sweet because it was very comforting sitting within the bosom of the family by a glowing coal fire, with a lovely tea on the table . But sour, because as soon as either Noggin of the Noggs or Captain Pugwash finished, we would head out into the winter night to be driven home by our grandfather to Oxgangs and The Stair. Back at 6/2 the house was cold-the fire wouldn't be put on at that time of night and we couldn't justify putting it on, so we cowered instead around the small two bar heater. At least there was a hot water bottle to look forward to, placed in one's bed.
Captain Pugwash and The Black Pig often followed the Dickens serial. Whilst it didn't have the same mystique of Noggin, it did have that something extra. It somehow married the feeling of the 17th and 18th centuries with a hint of modernity from Tom the Cabin-Boy. The programme ran until 1966 when I was ten. Similar to Noggin, I think the black and white version of the early shows works best. And like much of the best television of the time, it had an excellent theme tune called the The Trumpet Hornpipe-jaunty music-a sea shanty on the squeeze box.
Like many of us, Captain Pugwash, despite his bravado was a bit of a coward-usually it was the likeable and resourceful Tom who saved the day.
Saturday, 15 September 2012
6/3 The Stewarts and The Watcher by the Threshold
The Stewarts lived on the first floor opposite the Hoggs. Mrs Stewart was a pleasant woman
with a certain amount of class. She was quite tall and wore her hair high up and back. She was elegant and seemed sensibly fashionable. On the few occasions that I was in 6/3 she was very pleasant to me. Mr Stewart was a policeman. He was quite dour and kept himself to himself-apart from Ken Hoffmann, I don’t recall him ever speaking to others.He didn't seem to inter-relate-this may have been partly due to his job-he was a policeman; people who worked in this line have sometimes had a tendency to only socialise amongst their colleagues at work.
Norman Stewart circa 1966 (A nice photie of 'Norrie Stewart' taken from a school class photograph) |
They only had one child, Norman, who was ages
with me. Sometimes he was known as Norrie, more often as Noggin. We played together when we were very young. We were in the same class for the whole of primary school-P1 through to P7. At times we were often very friendly, sometimes even best friends, but for other long periods of time were quite distant-even having occasional fights.There was a certain rivalry between us at school-he was a clever boy with access to knowledge through books which gave him a certain advantage over many others in the class. He was always in the top three or four in the class, but never quite made it to top of the class. In some ways he appeared more mature, more thoughtful, and more reflective than others-I recall him making an observation about David Lines and me-David and I were both similar in ability at sprinting-Norman's observation was that David was a more trained athlete (he was quite muscular) and that I was the more natural-I was quite impressed that someone could think in such conceptual terms!
Norman was slightly different from many of the other boys around because he was less
athletic or sporty. He didn't really play much football at all which was the bread
and butter game that most of the other boys played on 300 of the 365 days of the year. He was however, more of a spectator-the watcher by the threshold.
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Anstruther (Undiscovered Scotland) |
Brian Rennie from same school photograph above. |
Although slightly reserved he wasn't unsociable and mixed with the rest of us. He was more sensible than me and got into less bother; I do remember him hanging out with some of the 'bad lads' which included Brian Rennie, 6/5 Oxgangs Street and me; on one occasion we got into trouble for breaking some greenhouse windows of houses at Pentland View whose gardens backed onto The Gully-I took the full force of that one at school and possibly with a visitation from the local policeman!
Being the smallest family in the stair, and with a father in steady employment, the Stewarts may have been the most well off family in the stair. Norman tended to own more and better toys than the rest of us, so this perhaps created an element of envy with his peers. At Easter he always had more chocolate eggs than the rest of the kids.
This was extraordinary-beyond one's imagination!
If it were a car I guess it would have been an Aston Martin.
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Rupert Annual 1963 |
The back alley where the sheds were located. (Photographs by Peter Hoffmann, 2012) |
Norman Stewart's bedroom window on first floor from which he would conduct his 'scatters'. (Photograph by Peter Hoffmann circa 1970) |
In a very measured way he would display the toy which he was going to dispose of and then deign to cast it to the crowd to scrum over it. He liked to take his time and have some dialogue with the crowd-occasionally he would take time-outs to get himself something to eat and come back later, whilst those down below would have to await the return of the 'Royal Stewart'! Perhaps he was living up to his nickname, Noggin, who of course was a king!
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Noggin, King of the Nogs. |
I used to feel slightly uncomfortable with this and tended to be more of an observer at the back. I think I also instinctively wanted to maintain my independence from him so that I was more of an equal. I also felt he over-promised and under-delivered-to me the largesse distributed was always slightly disappointing.
Norman was a bright boy who after his primary school education at Hunters Tryst, went on to a fee paying school, The Royal High School, one of Edinburgh's oldest and best schools. I think this demonstrated his parents' access to resources, because it was quite unique in Oxgangs to send a child to a fee paying school; it certainly showed Mr and Mrs Stewart's commitment to being good parents and taking their role seriously to do the best for him.
In another way I could empathise with Norman in that by not attending the local secondary school, Firhill, it created a distance between us and the other local boys. It wasn't immediately noticeable, but when you travel to school by bus early in the morning and then don't get home until tea-time combined with six months of darkness it's easy to slowly and then quickly create that gap, that distance. This was especially so for Norman who probably worked in the evening at homework-I was still hanging out for a while with the local kids.
In another way I could empathise with Norman in that by not attending the local secondary school, Firhill, it created a distance between us and the other local boys. It wasn't immediately noticeable, but when you travel to school by bus early in the morning and then don't get home until tea-time combined with six months of darkness it's easy to slowly and then quickly create that gap, that distance. This was especially so for Norman who probably worked in the evening at homework-I was still hanging out for a while with the local kids.
From that time we only ever passed like ships in the night. Around 1970 Mr Stewart left the police force and bought a general stores shop at Eastfield and a nice stone built house a hundred yards down the road at the beginning of Musselburgh. Some of the local boys visited once or twice coming back with the extraordinary revelation that the beach and sea (River Forth) could be accessed from their back garden. I never visited, but occasionally a group of us cycled by the shop on one of our long bike rides in summer. On one of these occasions I looked in to buy a sweet, but it was a stranger who served me. I think the business only continued for a few years.
I occasionally wonder what happened to Norman, because at one time he was an integral part of my life for many years sharing many experiences both within the classroom and outside school, and thus we were subject to a similar process of socialisation-the same, but different. I know that both his parents died in the last decade or so.
Labels:
Brian Rennie,
David Lines,
Firhill School,
Hunters Tryst Primary School,
Mrs Anne Hoffmann,
Noddy,
Noggin The Nog,
Norman Stewart,
Peter Hoffmann,
Rupert Annuals,
Stewarts
Friday, 7 September 2012
Let Me Tell You A Story...
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In the Great Hall (Oliver Postgate & Peter Firmin) |
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Graculus; Noggin; Olaf the Lofty; and Thor Nogson (Oliver Postgate & Peter Firmin) |
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The Flying Machine (Oliver Postgate & Peter Firmin) |
Will and Tom were similarly brought up on Noggin-the videos and the books. The Flying Machine was my favourite featuring a prominent role for Graculus the bird with his crackly voice-brilliant. Noggin’s boat could fly-different! Then there was the scary little turbaned thief from Baghdad who had hidden in a large Chinese vase-of a sudden the vase cracked open and he came scuttling out-boy,there was something very powerful about that image which registers deep in the psyche-definitely a recipe for bad dreams the nicht!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bB7YhQStkgU
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