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Those who didn't die before they got old keep talking 'bout their generation
Article which appeared in the Herald Express on Wednesday 25th November 2009 By reporter Mike Baker |
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As I pulled up at the Pen Inn pub there they all were, gathered outside next to their scooters wearing their ubiquitous green parkas. Even now it is an imposing sight. Concerned patrons need not have worried, though, about the group outside. Times have changed, mods have grown up and had children. Steve, with a large The Who badge in the centre of his enormous parka, confirms as much in a Black Country accent which has refused to temper despite 27 years in Devon."Here lads, we going in for a cuppa then? It's freezing out here." We agree that is freezing out here and that a nice cup of tea would be a good thing. "How times have changed eh?" As we enter a quiet Wednesday evening establishment, a dozen men carrying motorbike helmets, all dressed in enormous parkas, the barman barely bats an eyelid, which is quite understandable. He wasn't even born when this lot were being mods in the 1960s, to his eyes these are just old men in green coats.
Paul, who might be the chairman if the club had that sort of thing, which they don't, explains why they are keeping the past alive as the memory of mods, and the memories of those who were mods, fades into history. "We're all of about the same age," he says, looking around at the now seated group, made up mostly of those in or fast approaching their sixties. "Part of this is that need to go back to the 60s. The bikes are so important, in a way we feel like we're looking after a little piece of history. "For me the whole scene was over really quickly, including the experience of owning a scooter. I never even saw Quadrophenia when it came out. I had kids to look after. "I would say, though, that the mod scene, back then and now, was a big influence on fashion." At this point another Paul joins in, which may or may not get confusing. "You only have to look on TV," he says. "Jonathan Ross is always wearing a mod suit." This Paul is decidedly smart himself, in a striped blazer, brown pork pie hat, and looking at me through big, black, round glasses. "Back then it was really a male dominated thing, and men used to discuss fashion more. Scooters were probably secondary for most of us, with music third." One of the group's newest members, Paul is a piece of that history other Paul was on about. He lived through it, like many of them, but, crucially, at its very epicentre. On the back of his parka is a large white badge with Islington Mods 1969 in big letters. "In London the look was pretty standardised. It was very smart, mohair suits, which were always made to measure. I paid £25 for mine, which was a lot of money then. I also had a full-length suede coat, again costing £25, which was also made to measure. "In those days it was hard to find a tailor who would make what you wanted. Gradually, though, some became sympathetic." "My father worked in a shoe shop and he wouldn't let me wear them," adds Paul. "He said, 'You must wear something comfortable', but then thinking about it, he was a rocker. To this day when I start talking about my scooter he changes the subject."
It is hard to imagine these days such an ideological battle as that fought between the mods and rockers, divided as they were along lines of fashion, music and mode of transport. The mods had their scooters, the rockers had their motorbikes."I got mine from Eddy Grimstead," says second Paul. "Which for any mod was the place to buy your scooter. There you got a proper custom paint job and an upgraded engine. "I rode it for three years. Brighton, Clacton, Margate. It never went wrong once." Paul had mentioned earlier that he had been on Radio Devon once and they asked him about Brighton. It's the obvious question for any 60-something mod, and I pretend to be above such hackneyed inquisition. But who am I kidding? I'm dying to know if he was actually there as a 19-year-old. Paul answers like a true mod. "Well, of course a true mod wouldn't fight." Yeah ... but ..."I was at Brighton in 1964, yes. That was a right dust-up. It went round all the mod clubs that it was going on, the clubs being a big part of the mod scene in those days. "Someone mentioned about us all being in Brighton on that Bank Holiday weekend. You had to be seen to be there. I remember it all with such fondness and nostalgia." And there's more. "I remember I was going with a girl in north London, and I lived in the south. To get there I had to ride past the Ace Cafe which was on the north circ. All the rockers used to hang out there and I had to pretty much run the gauntlet every time I went past, with bottles and things being thrown at me. "But I made a point of doing it. What else was I going to do? She had the look and everything. She was worth it."
It's not hard to see why these guys are so nostalgic. And, following enforced breaks for families, jobs and middle age, which also saw the sale of many scooters, no wonder they take the chance to enjoy it all over again. But having been there is not a precursor. If that were the case then mods would surely die a second death as Italian scooters get traded in for mobility ones. You might have to splash out on a big green coat, though, like Justin who, at 28, is the youngest member by some years."I was born in 1971, so wasn't really around when mods first appeared," he says. "I used to watch them come down on their scooters for the rallies from the wall of my grandparents' house. My dad was a mod in the 60s so I always wanted a scooter. And I got one, 14 years ago. A Lambretta. "A couple of years later my dad bought me a Vespa. I took him to Silverstone on a track day for a birthday present and we then dropped into London on the way home to pick up the bike. "A few weeks later he passed away. It's a really nice memory of that special day. I've got a photo of him driving like mad round Silverstone and then picking up the bike, a Limited Edition T5."
Not all of them were, strictly speaking, mods. Some, like Mike, just loved the bikes. "I had a Lambretta in 1976, which I bought for £200," he says. "I didn't really know any mods then. I was about 21, 22, and every time I saw one of those scooters I wanted one. "I joined this club before I even got a bike again, but I was wearing my parka to the meetings. I wanted to get a Lambretta again, but they all said to get a Vespa. "It cost me £1,700 with £700 worth of extras on it. But I haven't told the missus that." Those 'extras' are a major part of owning a scooter as a mod and are distinctive to them. When the skinheads started riding them in the 80s they didn't have chrome mirrors and multiple spotlights arranged in a great mass on the front. "I was from Newton Abbot, there weren't many mods back in those days," says Mike. "I was a teddy boy in the 80s, I had all the clothes, the music, everything." He is now at least an honorary mod, and is busy encouraging the next generation. "My grandson loves to sit on my scooter. He's only three years old but he's already got a parka."
Which brings Ray on to another interesting point some of our younger readers may not have known about the iconic coat. "The parka was just to cover up our suit, it was just a cheap overcoat," he says. "They were really hard-wearing and there was a lot of them about in the army surplus stores in those days. "You used to look for the ones with the fewest bullet holes or tears in and patch them up. The original ones fetch crazy money now." There was, of course a very Devon alternative to the parka, as modelled by another Steve in a selection of grainy black and white photographs in the album he shows me. "We used to ride from Dawlish to Taunton on Saturdays, masses of us, taking up the whole road. We had a few moments, but we didn't want any trouble. "I liked scooters because you could appreciate the countryside. There I am at the love-in on Haytor, wearing a kaftan." And there he is, laying back on his scooter, enjoying a cigarette and appreciating the countryside."Well, it wasn't really a love-in. But it was close."
With teas drunk and fond memories packed away for another week, we venture outside to attempt a photograph in a howling gale. Terry, who rode down from Exeter this evening to be with us, comes up with the idea of doing it in front of Newton Abbot railway station because of the lights. "It was a bit lively riding down," he says. "You just have to hang on to it, but it's not easy with all this on." He gestures to the chrome, mirrors, air horns adorning his machine. And so I watch as 10 grown men on scooters ride off to meet me at Newton Abbot station to pose for the photo you see above. As they pull away, and just for a split second, it is possible to imagine what it might have been like to have been young in the 60s. Then a Citroen Saxo with four lads in speeds past and shatters the image. And if the idea of scooters, parkas and giant Who badges has tempted you into buying your second scooter — or indeed your first — then listen to Stan, and take the next step. "A lot of people think they're too old for it, but they're not. Look at us." At our time of life the mortgage is paid, the kids have gone, what else are you going to do with your money?"
Mike Baker Herald Express Reporter |
