Whatever happened to Lobby Lud?

On holiday, 1950s. Lobby Lud in the trirly hat? From my personal archives.t?

On holiday, 1950s. Lobby Lud in the trilby hat? From my personal archives.

This question arose as husband is currently giving a touch of fresh paint to the area between our kitchen door, which leads to the utility room and also has a door  giving access to the garage. I call it the lobby. He calls it an alcove. Daughter calls it a porch.

Using the word “lobby” had us both remembering a certain character called Lobby Lud, who was around in the late 1950s/early 1960s when we were taken on seaside holidays with our respective parents – me to Clacton-on-Sea, him to Blackpool and Scarborough.

As I remember, Lobby Lud was a mystery man who roamed around the resort, probably wearing a trilby hat and carrying a certain newspaper. People were encouraged to look out for him, and if they recognised him from his picture in the newspaper, to approach him and say “You are Lobby Lud and I claim my £5”.

The whole thing was a ruse to get people on holiday to buy a daily newspaper. As I recall, it was probably either The Daily Mail, or The News Chronicle who ran this event, and it was done to boost newspaper sales. People often didn’t bother to buy a paper whilst on holiday so this was a way to encourage them to do so, with the potential £5 as the prize. £5 was quite a lot of money in the 1950s.

The whole thing had a quaint, slightly quirky ring to it, but I don’t think my dad ever saw Lobby Lud when we were out and about – or if he did, he tried to get me, but an innocent young child at the time, to go and challege Lobby and ask for the £5. I would never have dared to do this, but I was always on the lookout for a man in a trilby hat, carrying a newspaper when we were walking around in the central promenade area near the pier.

Oh, those were days of innocent holiday family fun alright. In Clacton, as well as Lobby Lud, there was a concert party on the pier twice daily and live entertainment and shows to go to. Today’s holiday makers are more likely to go to a multi-screen cinema with a bar, and read the news on their smart phones or tablets. And more often than not it’s only the older generation who have a folded, well-thumbed tabloid tucked under one arm.

Trust, truth and communication

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Photo by fauxels on Pexels.com

It’s hard to trust much of what we see, hear, read or are presented with via the media as  the UK staggers wearily towards the forthcoming general election.

Truth and trust is a rarity. We have a prime minister, supported by members of the cabinet, who appear to be highly capable of making things up as they go along, claiming they are facts. Well they may be, but the chances are they’ve been massaged and manipulated to serve the purpose of getting the message across. I’ll be generous and say that some of them may be wrong because they’ve been incorrectly remembered or briefed, but that’s as far as my generosity is likely to go.

In most instances in this run up to the general election, it seems to be the output of the  prime minister which comes across as lacking in the trust department. He appears to be uncomfortably incapable of speaking with conviction or truth.

Time and again as he goes about electioneering, people around the country and the journalists who follow him, are asking questions which he deflects by ignoring them, changing the subject and blaming the mess we are in on other people and other political parties.

Mulling this stuff over in the wee small hours, I was reminded of some of the psychosynthesis/self-awareness training I have been  involved in delivering. We asked participants to do an exercise based on psychologist Virginia Satir’s Methods of Communication.

Taking on each of these roles in turn, so as to experience them, and with a thumbnail situation to role play within, they are

The Blamer, who shifts the onus as far away from his/herself by throwing blame on others

The Placator, who tries to please & doesn’t want to upset things

The Distractor, who changes the subject as fast as possible

The Computor, who is logical and factual but is also totally unemotional as he or she doles out the dry facts

The Leveller however is where it’s at. Levelling is about being honest, truthful, coming from what is known as your centre in psychoynthesis terms. Even if you’ve never heard of “the (your!) centre” before, you will have a sense of  what it means.

It means to be solid, honest, secure,  true and “right on” in what you’re saying and doing, to be authentic…..if you’re coming from this place, and are levelling (like speaking your own truth and admitting you don’t always know the answers to things), people will respect you and believe you. You will be credible because of your vulnerability and authenticity. These are some of the qualities that a good leader will express.

So now, what I’m doing every time a politician speaks in this dreary, dreadful, divisive Brexit-ridden election, is remembering to apply some of Virginia Satir’s wisdom to their style of commuication, and form my own opinion.

Street musician, Aachen

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This accomplished accordionist was playing in the square by Aachen’s large and impressive cathedral.  I was on dog duty, looking after our pooch while my other half was inside the cathedral (no dogs allowed).

It was a pleasure to sit in the square for a while and listen to him playing, and I dropped some coins into his hat when I eventually moved on to wander around this central area of Aachen, in Germany.

It’s a lively, attractive city, with cobbled streets in the medieval old town and market area. There are many small squares, several slightly quirky fountains, and of course, the magnificent cathedral built by Charlemagne. The interior reflects his wealth, power and influence, but there are plenty of architectural and historical riches to be found on the streets in the surrounding area too.

Definitely somewhere to return to!

Twin sisters, Brittany

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These happy ladies are volunteers in Chapelle du Kreisker, Saint-Pol-de-Leon, selling tickets for those keen enough to climb the 79 metre-high bell tower for a view over the surrounding area.

The 179 steps to the top are accessed by a very narrow steep, stone, spiral staircase. Husband and son went up, taking photos of the narrowness of the staircase just to convince me and daughter-in-law that we’d made the right decision to stay on the ground.

I asked the ladies if they were sisters….”Yes! But we are twins”, they said laughing and with eyes twinkling.

“Which one is the oldest?” I asked (my dormant French woke up and was used).

It’s the twin on the right. She didn’t know by how many minutes she was the senior twin, but there was a fair amount of good humoured joking going on between the two of them about this.

The Smallest House in Great Britain

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This tiny, quirky, bright red house is wedged into the walls of Conwy in North Wales. It’s been a tourist attraction for as long as I can remember and I went into it many years ago when my children were small. On this occasion, I was there with grandchildren who decided they didn’t want to go in (there was a queue) but went up to inspect it so they could see just how small it is.

I have vague recollections of how poky and gloomy it was inside the two small rooms – one up, one down. It was built in the 16th century. In 1900 it was occupied by a tenant, a 6ft. 3in, tall fisherman, who eventually had to move out ( perhaps he kept banging his head on the ceiling?!). It’s still owned by the same family and is open in the summer season as a tourist attraction.

There is always a lady in traditional Welsh costume on duty to take the entry fee and sell a small selection of souvenirs.