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Our chippy in the 50s was "Hicky's" (Hickey's?) around a corner off Long St where we lived. I think it was in King St, but it might have been Spark St, next one down. I remember "Hicky" wore a white coat and he had a crewcut and a very thick neck. Delicious fish and chips, though, wrapped in...

I spent many happy hours there as a boy in the 50s, collecting numbers from the Kings, Castles, Halls and Granges.

I have a friend in Canada who told me she absolutely loves watching the Peaky Blinders and she was very curious about Birmingham. When I told her Small Heath really existed and that I used to collect train numbers from the bridge at Small Heath Station as a boy, she said she'd enjoy the series...

I don't watch them anymore, but I've noticed from promos in the TV magazines how extreme some TV soap storylines are now. I remember when Coronation Street first started and the snug of The Rovers Return would be full of tension as the end titles rolled with Minnie Cauldwell's cat Bobby still...

In Long Street, down an "entry" called Winterdyne Place until I was 13, then on to Tavistock Road, Acocks Green. I remember playing in Long Street, throwing up home-made parachutes and "bombs" with caps in them that banged on hitting the ground. It's all modernised there now, of course.

Has anybody mentioned Love Hearts? I remember them in their tube pack. They were disc-shaped and with different messages written on the surface inside a heart outline. I enjoyed the sweet taste and enjoyed reading the messages too. Regards, Ray T.

My favourite! Regards, Ray T.

I well remember as a boy chewing on those brown licorice sticks until they got all frayed at the end. Yes, they were just like wood. We called them Spanish licorice, if I recall right. Regards, Ray T

Hi, Eric, It was clarified later that Hislop gets £20k for a whole series of HIGNFY, not per show. Still nice money, though. Regards, Ray T.

Gentleman Jack, Sunday nights, BBC1, is good fun, I reckon. Really hoping that greedy Rawson bloke gets his comeuppance!

I was very saddened by the news of Alan's passing. This forum will miss him and his valued contributions immensely. My condolences to his loved ones for their loss.

As a As a point of interest, look at how immaculately clean the pavement and road are in these old pics, kept that way by the women of the houses. Comparing it with our city streets of today, I fear we've fallen some way into slovenliness.

I access the BBC player on my SmartTV, Smudger. That doesn't need a flashplayer, so I don't know why you need it with a computer. And I thought standard computer software already had a flashplayer included. They sometimes ask to be updated. Regards, Ray T.

I should think at least most of these graffiti artists are recent school-leavers out of work. It would be very constructive, in my view, for the jobcentres to give them an appreciation of our old canals by allotting them work training in restoring and maintaining them. And removing any graffiti...

Probably all of the antiques programmes (though the voice-overs are quite annoying), ufos, supernatural stuff -- but not the phony ghost hunt things, good movie thrillers, ancient Egypt and Agatha Christie, especially Poirot.

I remember that gig by Fleetwood Mac at the Swan, Yardley. It cost all of 50p to get in and it was a great evening's music. I also recall seeing Status Quo at the Bull's Head, a year or so earlier, I think. They'd just made it big with Pictures of Matchstick Men and wore smart suits and ties...

The angry-looking woman is probably about to shout, "Damn you, paparazzi!"

Hello, John, I've only just seen this post for some reason. The new forum layout hid it from me somehow. I remember all those things too. You could almost have been describing my own childhood. We lived down the entry with Mrs Spencer's shop at the top. Alan Nash lived there. Lily was my mom's...

Hello, John, good to hear from you. I lived down Long Street from you in Winterdyne Place which had Mrs Spencer's little shop at its entrance. I too went to Christchurch School in the 50s, where Mr Craggs was headmaster, and then to Golden Hillock Secondary Modern in the 60s. I expect you...

Indeed, Smudger, I remember the weirdness of the stories and pictures, but living a back-street life in Birmingham I loved all that. They were so colourful and rich in imagination. I remember one tale describing a dog with "eyes as big as saucers", and never thought it scary, just intriguing.