Cue Bowie …

In 1973 I was a grotty 11-year-old. The world was a different place.
Computers were vast walls of flickering lights which Mr. Spock poked at on Star Trek.
Mobile phones? You were lucky if you had a 'phone at home.
As for a TV in the bedroom - you've got to be kidding.
It was a case of 'warming up' the black and white and humming along to the theme tune from Z-cars .. or Crossroads …
And that's if the power was on, cos those were the days when candle sales were at a premium and every self-respecting family kept a primus stove handy in readiness for the next political strike in strife torn Ulster.
However, there was an upside to the technological wasteland in which we lived.
Most kids were fit to run the marathon by the age of 10, they could amuse themselves for more than five minutes in an open field with only a lightweight plastic ball and all you needed was a set of pram wheels and a few planks to create your very own formula one 'bogey'.
And, yeah, the summers were always warm.
The nearest thing to Playstation's FIFA 2007 was a cruddy football game which consisted of pushing some mis-shapen plastic figure's head, enabling him to (allegedly) kick the ball.
You got it in one …. Push my head I play STRIKER!
Older boys sniffed at this development, preferring the esoteric aspects of Subbutteo. Never floated my boat though.
We read the Victor and the Hotspur, totally un-PC periodicals where foreign nationals had their butts kicked by tough talking Brits such as Captain Hurricane or were plastered with bombs by 'Braddock of Bomber Command'.
"I say," said Braddock, dropping another four tons of high explosive on some nasty Nazis, "that'll teach the Gerries to bomb London!"
"Aaaargh," squealed the Gerries/Japs etc etc. "Englander Pig Dog, Achtung, Donner und Blitzen, Himmel (or words to that effect)."
Girlies had 'Bunty' or 'Jackie' and the consumer frenzy that was 'Smash Hits' was still a full decade away.
Penny chews were actually a penny. But those who believed in quantity before quality opted for 'fruit salads' or 'black jacks' which retailed at the astonishing price of four for a penny.Pure sugar heaven it was. Yum yum.
Pizza was something foreign and therefore 'orrible and fast food was still dominated by the good old fish supper on a Friday night. The delicious aroma of lashings of vinegar scented the air of Larne Street (when someone's chimney wasn't on fire) as the latest dolloping of chips was doled out at the original Dolphin.
Burgers were just making an appearance and considered the height of sophistication.
A trip up the town usually ended with a visit to the immortal Lido where the awesome Aldo Di Prato ruled supreme.
As far as I was concerned there were two things on the menu at the Lido – chips and a well known international soft drink which, according to their advertisement, things go better with.
Picture, if you will, child fogging face with frightening amounts of fried potatoes washed down with potentially lethal quantities of fizzy drink. The resulting tummy ache induced by this ginormous intake of greasy grub and carbonated guzzling is a memory which will stick with me forever.
And thank goodness too, for, as they say, it was quare peckin'.
Since starting this ramble, I have become painfully aware that food takes up an abnormally large slice of my personal memory of the period.
Am I alone in this?
Ease my worries folks … gimme some feedback.
What are your memories of Ballymena childhood?
Did you trip the light fantastic at the Flamingo?
Were you a victim of Bay City Rolleritis?
Do you know what a Gatsby Jumper was?
e-mail me on :-

Dessie.blackadder@jpress.co.uk