Post by Matt James on Apr 9, 2009 12:28:34 GMT
Originally posted by Roger Green
I was a wag.
I was a wag, mostly at Selly Oak, from around the end of 1960 to 1962 and whilst it hasn�t exactly been down hill ever since it was a helluva job for a teenager, in those pre-Beatle days, to have a job riding a motor-bike all day long.
Of course we didn�t know what was happening economically and politically; we were just worried about the weather as it was a pain to ride in the ice and snow but on the days when the sun shone and the traffic was clear it was pure heaven.
Selly Oak office was situated on Bristol Road and we steamed out of the office straight into main road traffic; some of the wags didn�t bother to look how heavy the traffic was but we were sixteen without a care in the world and we got away with it.
In front of our office was the main post office counter and at night, when the counter staff had gone home, we could sneak in there. In the dark we could see the people in the street and once or twice � we were sixteen remember � we would stand behind the post box and when a member of the public posted a letter we would say in a Dalek type voice �Thank You.� I can only imagine the skins and majors I would have had if ever I was caught.
One day I headed up the hill from Edgbaston and took a right into the office; to do this, instead of sticking my hand out to turn right, I did a left hand �overtake me� signal as I was controlling the throttle with my right hand, and turned into the office.
I was, as usual, dying for a pee so I threw my crash helmet down and headed to the loo. Just after I came out a policeman walked into the yard and said �Who�s the boy who just came in here?�
All the wags came out and we looked at the copper; �Which boy?� somebody said.
�The boy who signaled left and turned right;� he said.
�Nobody just came in here;� somebody said again.
By then Syd, the whip, came out and said; �Nobody just came in here.�
He knew he was getting nowhere so the cop gave up after telling us off.
Then Syd stuck his finger into my face and said �Don�t do it again!�
The lads at Selly Oak were all mates and we would meet together after work; there was Freddie Cooke, Johnny Rees, Pete Bryan, Dave Griffiths, G.L. Cox and me. Andy Clapp took over from G.L. Cox and Dick Cready took over from Pete Bryan and when I first went there the senior wag was Kenny Mortiboys � as I sang later �Little Kenny Mortiboys was chief of all the naughty boys back in Birmingham in 1961.�
There was Rosie�s caf� opposite with its juke box and greasy spoon food, a one-armed bandit that we knew how to fiddle and big Rosie who would give us a cup of tea on tick if we didn�t have any money; we also used our post office food vouchers there so we never starved.
Selly Oak was also the home of Ariel motors cycles and the testers would speed around the streets as well as the wags; we also recognized a few motor cycle cops but we really wanted to be a tester; they would ride around with long black wax coats and goggles and the Ariel Arrows were the only vehicles that we couldn�t beat away from the traffic lights on our 125cc Bantams.
Of course the fastest we could go on our bikes, and that was down hill, was around 60 mph. We would love to deliver to the top of Rose Hill in Rednal and speed down another hill in Northfield not forgetting Bristol Road South; but we had to climb those hills too and that was another story; sometimes those bikes would drop to about 10 mph if the hill was particularly steep.
We were very lucky that not many of us were hurt in road accidents; it was rumoured that a wag had been killed from one of the offices; maybe Hockley or Smethwick but it was never confirmed; some of us were mad riders and some of us careful and there was a lot of peer group pressure to go faster on those bikes, go to the right of a keep left sign and boast about the scrapes and crashes we had escaped but it was mostly harmless fun.
One day I came out of the office with Dick Cready and headed towards town on Bristol Road and we came up to traffic. I overtook a lorry on the inside and Dick overtook him on the right; the lorry turned right straight into Dick; I was on the other side and turned to see him sliding along the tarmac with a look on his face as if he had his hands in hot water; thankfully he stopped. The police and the ambulance arrived and they took him away to hospital where he was released the next day full of bruises.
Another time Pete Bryan tried to beat the lights at Rotten Park Road and Hagley Road and hit a bus; I believe the bus was actually written off as so much damage was done to the front of it but Pete got out ok.
In the evenings some of us would meet at hot dog stands in the town centre and at the Lickey Hills and got to know a lot of other bikers and met lots of girls � oh those girls; some nights one of the bikers just didn�t show up and we never saw them again.
One of the motor-cycle pals who didn�t work for the post office and who frequented Rosie�s caf�, was killed in a head-on crash on the eve of his wedding; right outside of Queen Elizabeth Hospital; his fianc� had his child around 6 months later and I have often wondered what happened to that child.
They were happy innocent days and I have to quote Philip Larkin as his poetry seems to fit: Sexual Intercourse began in 1963/Between Lady Chatterley and the Beatles first LP/But that was too late for me.
Pete Bryan and Johnny Rees left the post office and went to work on the buses; Dave Griffiths and Freddie Cook stayed on at the post office and I ended up at drama school; I don�t know what happened to the others and since then we have lost Freddie Cooke and Johnny Rees; RIP.
Chris Sullivan.
I was a wag.
I was a wag, mostly at Selly Oak, from around the end of 1960 to 1962 and whilst it hasn�t exactly been down hill ever since it was a helluva job for a teenager, in those pre-Beatle days, to have a job riding a motor-bike all day long.
Of course we didn�t know what was happening economically and politically; we were just worried about the weather as it was a pain to ride in the ice and snow but on the days when the sun shone and the traffic was clear it was pure heaven.
Selly Oak office was situated on Bristol Road and we steamed out of the office straight into main road traffic; some of the wags didn�t bother to look how heavy the traffic was but we were sixteen without a care in the world and we got away with it.
In front of our office was the main post office counter and at night, when the counter staff had gone home, we could sneak in there. In the dark we could see the people in the street and once or twice � we were sixteen remember � we would stand behind the post box and when a member of the public posted a letter we would say in a Dalek type voice �Thank You.� I can only imagine the skins and majors I would have had if ever I was caught.
One day I headed up the hill from Edgbaston and took a right into the office; to do this, instead of sticking my hand out to turn right, I did a left hand �overtake me� signal as I was controlling the throttle with my right hand, and turned into the office.
I was, as usual, dying for a pee so I threw my crash helmet down and headed to the loo. Just after I came out a policeman walked into the yard and said �Who�s the boy who just came in here?�
All the wags came out and we looked at the copper; �Which boy?� somebody said.
�The boy who signaled left and turned right;� he said.
�Nobody just came in here;� somebody said again.
By then Syd, the whip, came out and said; �Nobody just came in here.�
He knew he was getting nowhere so the cop gave up after telling us off.
Then Syd stuck his finger into my face and said �Don�t do it again!�
The lads at Selly Oak were all mates and we would meet together after work; there was Freddie Cooke, Johnny Rees, Pete Bryan, Dave Griffiths, G.L. Cox and me. Andy Clapp took over from G.L. Cox and Dick Cready took over from Pete Bryan and when I first went there the senior wag was Kenny Mortiboys � as I sang later �Little Kenny Mortiboys was chief of all the naughty boys back in Birmingham in 1961.�
There was Rosie�s caf� opposite with its juke box and greasy spoon food, a one-armed bandit that we knew how to fiddle and big Rosie who would give us a cup of tea on tick if we didn�t have any money; we also used our post office food vouchers there so we never starved.
Selly Oak was also the home of Ariel motors cycles and the testers would speed around the streets as well as the wags; we also recognized a few motor cycle cops but we really wanted to be a tester; they would ride around with long black wax coats and goggles and the Ariel Arrows were the only vehicles that we couldn�t beat away from the traffic lights on our 125cc Bantams.
Of course the fastest we could go on our bikes, and that was down hill, was around 60 mph. We would love to deliver to the top of Rose Hill in Rednal and speed down another hill in Northfield not forgetting Bristol Road South; but we had to climb those hills too and that was another story; sometimes those bikes would drop to about 10 mph if the hill was particularly steep.
We were very lucky that not many of us were hurt in road accidents; it was rumoured that a wag had been killed from one of the offices; maybe Hockley or Smethwick but it was never confirmed; some of us were mad riders and some of us careful and there was a lot of peer group pressure to go faster on those bikes, go to the right of a keep left sign and boast about the scrapes and crashes we had escaped but it was mostly harmless fun.
One day I came out of the office with Dick Cready and headed towards town on Bristol Road and we came up to traffic. I overtook a lorry on the inside and Dick overtook him on the right; the lorry turned right straight into Dick; I was on the other side and turned to see him sliding along the tarmac with a look on his face as if he had his hands in hot water; thankfully he stopped. The police and the ambulance arrived and they took him away to hospital where he was released the next day full of bruises.
Another time Pete Bryan tried to beat the lights at Rotten Park Road and Hagley Road and hit a bus; I believe the bus was actually written off as so much damage was done to the front of it but Pete got out ok.
In the evenings some of us would meet at hot dog stands in the town centre and at the Lickey Hills and got to know a lot of other bikers and met lots of girls � oh those girls; some nights one of the bikers just didn�t show up and we never saw them again.
One of the motor-cycle pals who didn�t work for the post office and who frequented Rosie�s caf�, was killed in a head-on crash on the eve of his wedding; right outside of Queen Elizabeth Hospital; his fianc� had his child around 6 months later and I have often wondered what happened to that child.
They were happy innocent days and I have to quote Philip Larkin as his poetry seems to fit: Sexual Intercourse began in 1963/Between Lady Chatterley and the Beatles first LP/But that was too late for me.
Pete Bryan and Johnny Rees left the post office and went to work on the buses; Dave Griffiths and Freddie Cook stayed on at the post office and I ended up at drama school; I don�t know what happened to the others and since then we have lost Freddie Cooke and Johnny Rees; RIP.
Chris Sullivan.