Charley says… watch out for these public information films
Who did those bereft of common sense dial previously? The local florist, a friendly chiropractor?
Looking at the photo above it’s understandably hard to imagine that I was a child of the 1960s/70s.
It’s not the most recent image, however, so things may be pulled painfully into focus when the powers that be demand I update it.
That will be the column that has you thinking – blimey, the poor chap has obviously had the week from hell. Other less kind individuals may surmise that the pressure of working for the newspaper has resulted in my missives and meanderings being chemically enhanced or that I’ve been driven to drink (untrue – the pub is in walking distance).
Granted, it may be considerably more fun that way but I promise you that what you see here isn’t down to the demon drink or illegal substances, nor has it been AI enhanced. This is an intelligence free zone I’ll have you know.
Fortunately the editor has your back and ensures I’m fit for human consumption. So that’s most of you covered.
Thus, by this most circuitous of routes, we arrive at TV public information films.
Those wee, in some cases Hitchcockian forays, dedicated to preserving the nation’s offspring and curtailing stupidity in more senior dullards.
A quick gallop down memory lane via YouTube will soon have you reliving this golden age of being looked after / scared witless.
First though, the unapologetically silly. Anyone remember the Green Cross Code? Look left, look right, look left again etc. A series of celebrity fronted films designed to make sure that over-eager kiddies got to the seemingly ever present ice cream vendor without causing a mountain of paperwork and cost to the public purse. In short, getting little Johnny to a 99 as opposed to a 999.
Jon Pertwee, Kevin Keegan and Dave Prowse featured, the latter spouting: “Always use the Green Cross Code, because I won’t be there when you cross the road.”
And he wasn’t. This road safety superhero was busy moonlighting as destroyer of galaxies Darth Vader in the
Star Wars franchise. Which illustrated perfectly to children throughout the land – that you just can’t trust some people.
A theme among others ably explored in the Charlie Says animations. Irish poet William Butler Yeats, winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923, opined that “a stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet”, but personally, I’d sooner put my faith in the aforementioned cartoon cat than a crusty old weaver of words. My justification – poetry sucks.
Charley and his young human buddy were a magnet for near misses, imploring youngsters to be careful around water, hot stoves, matches, to not disappear without telling your mum (dad was evidently in the bookies) and to beware of strangers asking whether you’d like to see some puppies. The correct response, even from the most ardent animal-lover, being a firm no.
Unless of course it was 1989 and a pneumatically busty, swimsuit clad Pamela Anderson was the one asking that particular question.
Helpful hint; this would also be an opportune moment to be a lot less careful around water.
Joe and Petunia were a pair of middle-aged chavs before the term chav was invented. Thicker than the shortest of short planks the lessons they bestowed were aimed squarely at dunderheads – don’t litter and if you see a sailor in distress at sea, call the coast guard.
Up until that point it does beg the question just who did those bereft of common sense dial previously? The local florist, a friendly chiropractor?
A Grim Reaper-like figure terrified little ‘uns in the disturbing Spirit of Dark and Lonely Water. The hooded horror hung around bodies of unexpectedly deep water ready to take the souls of the unwary. Significantly more Andrex was required that week in the Haigh household.
The BBC took the opportunity to spread fear. No, not the footage of Rolf Harris down the local swimming baths. extolling the virtues of teaching kids to swim to cries of “can we have the Grim Reaper back instead please mum?” but a dire warning to viewers to purchase a TV licence.
They had TV detector vans, don’t you know. A man, Brylcreemed to within an inch of his life, warned that these technology laden revenue earners could tell what you were watching and even the room in which such heinous irregularity was being conducted.
Good old Auntie Beeb. Not much got past them...