The Swinging Sixties

After this week’s momentous majority decision by the UK’s populace to leave Europe, I have noticed people slowly regaining their pride with each new minute of realisation. Then, I noticed the nostalgia for the “Good Old Times” creeping back.

It just so happens that I’m currently reading “Bestie”, the authorised biography of George Best. (I know, I know, he dies in the end).

I have just reached the part where George plays his first game against Fulham at Craven Cottage and needless to say the author mentions the glamour at the time of the Swinging Sixties. And how Best was the sixth Beatle (Or was that Jimmy Tarbuck? A funny, funny man right up there with Lenny Henry).

Combat Dave, Going Postal

Then I cast my mind back to 1965, short trousers, short back and sides, liver and fucking onions and it suddenly dawned on me…

The Swinging Sixties only actually ever existed in the West End of London and the mind and lives of musicians, actors, film producers, (successful) sportsmen (Yes, sportsmen, we’re out of the EU now) and minor royalty in the UK and Monte Carlo (cough, cough, Margaret, Grace cough cough). Discuss…

Combat Dave ©