Britain is a Country where old men have very clear memories of when they were young men in the 1960's

Its true that old men retain their long term memories. For some reason it set me thinking about when I was an 18 year old student studying History at Sussex University and staying in the 'Glenside Hotel' on the Brighton Seafront along with 27 other adolescent male students.
It was run by a fierce, elderly Scots landlady called Mrs Stuart, her daughter Janet and a shadowy old boy whose name I have forgotten.
My room mate, B.B., was studying Sociology and was the proud owner of a 'Robert' transistor radio which he carried on a leather strap around his neck.


On one particularly boring Sunday afternoon in the summer of 1966, B.B. and I were cooped up in our small, dark, stuffy bedroom and were ready to let off some steam when 'The Small Faces' singing 'All or Nothing' came on the radio. We decided to 'sing along' giving the lyrics some extra zest by adding a liberal helping of expletives as indicated : * * * * * * *



I thought you'd listen to my reason,
But now I see, you don't hear a thing,
Try to make you see, how it's got to be.

Yes it's all, all or nothing.
Yeah yeah, all or * * * * * * *nothing,
All or nothing, for me.

Things could work out just like I want them to, yeah.
If I could have the other half of you, yeah.
You know I would, If I only could.

Yes it's yeah, all or nothing.
Oh yeah, all or nothing.
You'll hear my children say, all or nothing, for me.

I didn't tell you no lies.
So don't you sit there and cry girl.
Yeah, all or nothing.
Oh yeah, all or nothing.
Oh yeah, all or nothing.
D'you know what I mean.
You got to, got to, go to keep on trying, yeah.
All or nothing, mm yeah.
All or nothing, to keep on working on to me.
All or nothing for me, for me, for me.
Come on children, yeah.
All or nothing, yeah,yeah, yeah, yeah.
All or nothing, I kept on singing to myself.
All or nothing, yeah for me, yeah.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbwgKH2SqoY

About 15 minutes after our rendition, there was a knock on the door and there stood a very angry Mrs Stuart who had had a complaint from the landlord next door. Our singing must have squirreled out of our bedroom window and into his hotel next door. Mrs Stuart told us that he said that he " had been in the Army for 30 years and had never heard such bad language".
B.B. and I didn't want to get into trouble with the University Authorities, so we wrote he a grovelling apology. I remember that it began : 'Dear Mr Smith, we do not ask to be forgiven'. I forget the rest, but this was 45 years ago. We took it to his hotel and delivered it to the old 'Sergeant Major' himself.

I think you'll agree that there is nothing wrong with this Old Boy's long term memory.

For those who want a bit of 'Small Faces' nostalgia :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9Tq0GMIfZ4