A LONG time ago, long before I had discos and nightclubs, I used to go out on weekend nights singing in clubs.

These were mostly working men’s clubs and I did doing three spots a night for 30 bob.

It was a job I really liked.

There was always good company and very decent sandwiches.

And, of course, that 30 bob was almost as much as a weekly wage.

The only snag was that there were some men who thought it perfectly OK to come into the dressing room without knocking, pat your backside and all that sort of stuff.

But, fortunately, I was well able to look after myself and a quick knee jerk into a place that hurt the most usually solved the problem.

In the main, though, they were great times and great people and the fact that my dad was a concert secretary at a club, I must admit, was a little bit of a help.

It was customary then to sing two good, straight songs just to let them know that you could sing, before you went into the best part which was the ‘everybody join in singalong’.

I look back on those times with affection and I do hope that the clubs haven’t changed too much.

n I, with many others, attended a speed awareness course, in Leyland.

It was my penance for not sticking strictly to 30 miles per hour limit going down Lovely Hall Lane.

I expected it to be boring but, strangely enough, it turned out to be very interesting.

Barry Pilkington, who gave the talk, made it very lively, interesting and pertinent.

And I have to admit he also brought to our attention quite a few driving and road safety points that we all seem to have been negligent about.

So, having had the proverbial slap on the wrist, I shall definitely be more aware and, hopefully, it has made me be much more careful and observant.

n Dandelions were the bane of my dad’s life as he was so proud of his lawn, but this year they have been a joy.

They have seem to have allowed them to bloom on our grass verges, giving such a lovely splash of colour as we drive along.

It’s made me wonder why we hated them so much; maybe it’s the name the gardeners called them, which I shall not repeat here ...