Wednesday, 5 June 2019

Meeting, Dating, Mating

MEETING, DATING, MATING.

I’ve heard it said that the Devil makes work for idle hands.  Well, I think he also makes work for idle brains.  

Lately, I’ve been in a rut of nothingness.  I can’t seem to create anything for my ETSY store and I’ve not made any contribution to my blog.  Today, as I’ve been sitting on my couch idly staring into space it could only be the devil that has me contemplating the methods that today’s youth use to “find each other”, or otherwise make a lifetime connection.

When I hear about Internet dating sites, I think how different that must be from the methods used in my youth.  

I’m pretty sure my children know that their father and I met at a local dance hall.  The local pub and ballroom dancing were the accepted techniques for meeting a member of the opposite sex.  If you were planning on the dancing routine you needed to be able to dance, hence the Sunday afternoon “tea dances” were I good place to hone one’s skills in that department. 

So, as my thoughts traveled down this rabbit hole I started to wonder: How did our mother and father meet?   I don’t think I ever knew.  Did they meet at a pub?  Did they meet at a dance hall? Could they dance?  Yes, they could.  I know because Mum could do a very excellent “Charleston”, with knees and arms gyrating in perfect time to the music. 

Dad, on the other hand, in the kitchen, taught me (a very apprehensive and nervous 15-year-old about to go to her first Sunday tea dance) how to do the “Two-step”.  I remember him telling me to listen to the beat of the music and just let your feet follow. 
This dance should not be confused with the Western Two-Step, it was more like the Fox Trot, nevertheless, while it was not a dance that was popular in my dancing days, his advice still held true.

By the age of seventeen I had mastered the art of social ballroom dancing and had graduated to the night time occasions.  So, with Mom’s admonition: “Don’t let them ply you with port!” and my good friend Jean, I went connection hunting.

Every weekend, Jean and I investigated many of the Mecca dance halls across London including the Hammersmith Palais and the Lyceum in the Strand which had been converted from a cinema and still retained a sloping floor, but our favourite was the local Locarno in Streatham. 
This is how it looked when empty - can't remember ever seeing it that way!
So it was, that one evening I was walking down the stairs to the dance hall, as D was walking up, he changed his mind and his direction as he accompanied me down.
The Ladies and Gents were upstairs!
And so, it began.

This wouldn’t be a blog about the Covey if I didn’t include the other members.  I don’t know for sure how they met, so I have taken the liberty of approaching the female contingent to fill in the rest of this information.

I’ll start with the youngest member LLB.  They followed the tried and true British method of meeting in a pub, but beyond that, nothing is tried and true, it could have been, as his wife put it: Destiny!

The destiny part starts three months earlier in August 1965, when Mum & LLB made a visit to Canada.  Apparently, Mum was hoping that he’d meet a gorgeous Canadian girl.  Why she would want that I won’t even try to guess, but he didn’t meet anyone, they returned to England, so the point is moot.  Meanwhile, back in Canada, a real-live-gorgeous-Canadian girl is planning her extended visit to England, to stay with a cousin in Harrow.  Harrow is about 10 miles north-west of central London.  It’s famous for a boy’s school that was founded in 1572  by John Lyon under a Royal Charter of Elizabeth I.   Real live Canadian girl whom I shall call “Sh” visits her other Aunt and Cousins who happen to live a hop skip and a jump from our family home.  (Starting to get strange eh?). With the exception of the name deletion: I’ll let her words fill in the rest:

I went to the Bank of Swans with my cousin and saw LLB there, I never spoke with him, but I told my cousin I would like to meet him.   
The next weekend when I went back to visit my aunt I had hoped they might have set something up, but when I got there my cousin was out with his girlfriend, so it looked like my evening would be spent watching TV with my Aunt and Uncle.
I suggested to my Uncle that I would go down to the Off Licence in the pub and pick up some cigarettes for him, and when I got there LLB was playing darts w
ith his friends, I struck up a conversation, he walked me home, and the rest is history.  
Looks as if it needs a bit of a spruce up now.  Back then it would have been sparkling new!
Once I met LLB, I soon moved to my Aunt’s place.

When you're in the throes of destiny it seems you just have to stay put and let life come to you.
One of the things I'm noticing as I'm writing this blog, is how young we all were, when we made such life affecting decisions.  I was a teenager of 17 years of age when I met my husband.  Fortunately, I knew everything then.  It’s only as I’ve aged that I’m getting a clearer picture.

We go now to our second member LB as told by his wife “S”

I had just turned 15!  We met at the Fair on Clapham Common. I was with a friend who knew one of the boys in the group.  We had a good time as a group.  Around 10.00pm LB asked if anyone needed a lift home, (On his scooter) I was already late so that would really help.  I was wearing a pencil-tight skirt, got on and couldn't get off.  He drove me home and had to help me off. 
He asked me to go to the Social club the next night and I agreed.  He was smart, charming, funny but considerate.  Also, cute to look at.  He hasn't changed! 

The fourth and final story comes to us from LS.  As you will see she has both favourite meeting venues covered,but then again, she had two opportunities to do so.

How I met husband #1....whilst living in girls hostel...I was approached by a girl to help her out...she was really interested in some bloke and had arranged to meet him in the local pub...when she got there, he had brought his friend with him and said, unless she could get a date for the friend they would be moving on.....I agreed to be that date....the rest is history....

How I met husband #2.....I was still married to #1....had the boutique and at the end of the day, did not always go straight home to the happy homestead.....this particular night Chris and I went to listen to a jazz singer that we really liked...after,  I said I would drop her home and then carry on home myself.......She was not ready to go home, so asked me to drop her off at a local private club ...
Image taken directly from the family album.

’The Banana Factory’ (mingling, bar/dancing)..when we got there...she said, “just come in with me in case there’s no one in there I know”....I did...met Don.....

the rest is history....

Just to round out all these little stories, it seems that LS has the low down on where the originators of this little Covey met:

I really think Mum met Dad ...wait for it....in a pub!....She evidently went to the Loo...when she came back he was sitting at the table with her friends....she may have had her eye on him before she left for the Loo...

Enough said!