The Auntie Doris Years: 1965

To be honest I had never even heard of Kenneth Tynan, before 1965, and I never heard much of him afterwards, either, but I know one thing. He was a filthy minded and filthy mouthed so and so, who went and said the f word on the television. He ought to have known better. Apparently he was an intelligent man. If he was, he should have ruddy well behaved like one in my book. I have never been a prude, and I know that men used to swear down the coal mines, at sea and in the army, but in my day, they never used to do it in mixed company, and certainly not on the television or on the radio or anywhere like that. But the 1960s was open season for foul mouthed individuals, and filthy ruddy perverts, and all sorts of people to bring the tone of the whole country down, and look at what happened. Everyone is ruddy swearing these days, even the ruddy kiddies, and no one ever seems to think twice about it. My nephew Michael even boasts about the fact that he has made a record where he uses the f word nearly 70 times in about two minutes. And there is no need for it at all. It reduces us all to the level of the sodding gutter. But just in case you did want to hear it hear it…
Not that I totally agreed with that Mary Whitehouse though. She formed a group called Clean Up the Nation’s Television in response to Tynan’s outburst, but then when she realised what the initials spelled out she decided to change it to the National Viewers and Listeners Association instead. I agreed with her on the swearing, but she went too far when she tried to stop the BBC showing controversial programmes that showed what had happened in the last two wars, and what might happen if we had another one with nuclear bombs in it an’all. That’s just leaving people ignorant in my book, and more likely to think that it’s a good idea to start one. She was a bit off with her views about women’s rights as well. And homosexuals. I’m not homophonic. I don’t mind what the homosexuals get up to as long as they don’t start swearing about it on the telly. I don’t think that watching a couple of blokes kissing is going to turn any kiddies into homosexuals, unless they are that way inclined already, but listening to people swearing all the time will definitely turn them into foul mouthed little buggers. Especially these days, when you aren’t even allowed to give them a clip around the ear when they give you cheek.
Not that our Michael ever needed a clip around the ear for swearing though. He probably kept it all in until he was grown up, and discovered drink. Now he is worse than all the ruddy coal miners, soldiers and sailors put together. I honestly can’t think where the sodding hell he got it from.
Auntie Doris’s top pop pick of 1965: “A Taste of Honey” by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. That song came off the “Whipped Cream and Other Delights” LP. Mary Whitehouse wasn’t too pleased about the cover of that one. But I would probably have never heard of Herb Alpert if my Raymond hadn’t bought the ruddy thing on the strength of that picture. He used to take upstairs with him in the middle of the afternoon, and we didn’t even gave a record player upstairs. I can’t imagine what he was playing at.

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