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Dinosaur Moments (Or Similar)

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OK, not a helpful title. It's just the best short label I can think of for the particular experience in this post.

For the thread, I mean non-punting moments or experiences that have made you glad you're a punter or grateful you can punt.

Has anything ever happened to you to make you suddenly feel that way? All contributions welcome. WGs welcome too if they have any non-punting experiences with the same effect for their side of the picture.

Not long ago I finished a visit to the place where I grew up. The first for a long time. I don't go near it unless I absolutely have to. One good reason for that was the compulsory no-sex attitude of the girls, women and public authorities around there. Sex was unmentionable, not done, Bad etc. Young chaps like me weren't allowed to have balls. Too many nasty memories about that and no nice ones. That was in the 50s and late 40s. Lifetime career punting was the way out for this sex maniac, I'm pleased to say. I had to leave to take full advantage of it, of course, but I felt no pain over that.

The dinosaur in my moment there (marked *) was a woman of about my own age who said she knew me from the old days. I could more or less remember a vague connection via friends but nothing else. It gave her the licence to question me about my general state and history since I left. You probably all know aunts etc like that. Trouble is, some of them never realise when enough is enough.

They seem to be most curious about anything domestic. That's the spectacles they use to look at the world, I guess.

After I answered the basic domestic question "Are you married?", the dialogue went like this.

Have you ever been married? No.

What about girlfriends? No, not particularly interested.

[Worried expression] Good heavens, you're not ..... you don't go in for ..... men, do you? No.

[Even more worried expression] Do you have anything to do with .... children? Not if I can help it. Anyway, not until they're old enough to vote.

[Relieved expression] Ah, then you're normal.*

A window into the mind of a dinosaur! All the furniture and decorations in there unchanged since the 1950s.

Not part of my "reliving the 50s" experience, but I can't resist signing off with what I couldn't resist saying to her after her punch line. "Not necessarily. You forgot to mention sheep."

Socially I was persona non grata after she finally managed to get her head round that, but it was worth it.
 

 

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Sounds like much of my family who Iast met in the late fifties in darkest Darlaston (West Midlands). I went back for a funeral about 5 years ago and nothing has changed; not even the San Izal toilet paper (more like sandpaper!).

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this is what happens when you go outside of the M25

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Ha having a Spanish mother you can imagine what my Aunts are like with me...

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Yeah my dad has  a few "interesting" stories about an indian friend he had when younger, he was from the only indian family in town at the time and I think there were zero black people there then. I cringe when I hear the stories because of the way my dad says things, not racist, if he was a racist he wouldnt be mates with the bloke in the first place. There was a certain language that was acceptable back then which makes me want to fall through the floor though... thats a dinosaur moment for sure. The terms "his lot" and "our lot" gets used a lot

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I think as you get older you get more of them.  Corrie for sure this past week has been interesting.

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OK, not a helpful title. It's just the best short label I can think of for the particular experience in this post.

For the thread, I mean non-punting moments or experiences that have made you glad you're a punter or grateful you can punt.

Has anything ever happened to you to make you suddenly feel that way? All contributions welcome. WGs welcome too if they have any non-punting experiences with the same effect for their side of the picture.

Not long ago I finished a visit to the place where I grew up. The first for a long time. I don't go near it unless I absolutely have to. One good reason for that was the compulsory no-sex attitude of the girls, women and public authorities around there. Sex was unmentionable, not done, Bad etc. Young chaps like me weren't allowed to have balls. Too many nasty memories about that and no nice ones. That was in the 50s and late 40s. Lifetime career punting was the way out for this sex maniac, I'm pleased to say. I had to leave to take full advantage of it, of course, but I felt no pain over that.

The dinosaur in my moment there (marked *) was a woman of about my own age who said she knew me from the old days. I could more or less remember a vague connection via friends but nothing else. It gave her the licence to question me about my general state and history since I left. You probably all know aunts etc like that. Trouble is, some of them never realise when enough is enough.

They seem to be most curious about anything domestic. That's the spectacles they use to look at the world, I guess.

After I answered the basic domestic question "Are you married?", the dialogue went like this.

Have you ever been married? No.

What about girlfriends? No, not particularly interested.

[Worried expression] Good heavens, you're not ..... you don't go in for ..... men, do you? No.

[Even more worried expression] Do you have anything to do with .... children? Not if I can help it. Anyway, not until they're old enough to vote.

[Relieved expression] Ah, then you're normal.*

A window into the mind of a dinosaur! All the furniture and decorations in there unchanged since the 1950s.

Not part of my "reliving the 50s" experience, but I can't resist signing off with what I couldn't resist saying to her after her punch line. "Not necessarily. You forgot to mention sheep."

Socially I was persona non grata after she finally managed to get her head round that, but it was worth it.

 

 

Very descriptive and a pleasure to read. That punch line was a killer. Looks like it had the desired effect too :):D

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A while ago I re-established contact via social media with a girl who had been my chilhood sweetheart. She was now single again and we decided to meet for lunch one day.  I go along with my immagination dreaming up all the sweet and nice things we used to do and how it might be nice to re-establish some sort of regular contact and ... and ..

 

Well of course the reality of it all is that time hadn't stood still for her either so the sweet young thing I adored had of course aged by some 45+ years

 

Sigh... back to punting.

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Dinosaur moments happen a lot in small communities outside the M25 I am sure.  My response to the surprise at not being married is the genuine wish not have children.

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And as this thread proves, prejudice disappears inside the M25.

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This thread has gone quiet now but there's no harm in giving it a prod. I've just remembered another dinosaur moment in the place where I grew up. A memory of 1960, the first time when I had to revisit after I'd managed to escape. From the original post in the thread you can see what I thought of the place, and why.

The hero in 1960 was a comedy script writer. I was reminded of the dinosaur experience at the weekend, when a friend sent me an obituary notice about him.

His opinion of the general hypocrisy of the place was the same as mine. Same opinion about its attitude to sex too. These would show up occasionally in his scripts, but not as often as he tried to make them show up. Producers and managers were always on the lookout for things to censor in the scripts, he said. A very fine definition of marriage was one of the things that didn't make it past the radio censors in 1956. That one ought to have been in the history books.

I saw him again at a public event in 1960. Just in time to hear the tail end of a conversation involving him and two other people. Conversation? Something louder than that. His main opponent was the standard female type from around there. She and possibly the third person had been sniping at him for one of his scripted pieces which had managed to dodge the censorship and offend against public decency.

He must have really annoyed the woman, because she'd got to the stage of actually talking directly about Sex when I arrived. Unheard-of behaviour otherwise.

She gave him a novel version of the standard female "Men can only think of one thing" view of the other side in the war of the sexes. I'd never heard this one before. Or since. How about you?

It was "If it's impossible for you to behave properly and stop it, why don't you just do the beastly thing with each other and leave women alone?"

That was the exact dinosaur moment. (Hooray for punting.)

He could turn out a good line quickly even when he wasn't writing a script. "Madam, I can understand perfectly why you wouldn't be familiar with any of the technical details, so I should let you know the main problem is that our plumbing isn't set up right for that sort of thing."

He was just as good at timing. The pause before his final word was exactly right. Not too long and not too short.

"Then there's the other problem too. Men aren't attractive enough."
 

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She gave him a novel version of the standard female "Men can only think of one thing" view of the other side in the war of the sexes. I'd never heard this one before. Or since. How about you?

It was "If it's impossible for you to behave properly and stop it, why don't you just do the beastly thing with each other and leave women alone?"

 

I'd never heard that variant on it before, though it's horribly convincing. I do sometimes worry about stories on the effects of the pornification of society that seems to be going on, but when I read this I can reassure myself that things really have improved. 

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