We all love it. Everything from its tacky shops, the crumbliness of its buildings, the poor man's Eiffel Tower... The list goes on. but I do have one question. And it is the simplest but yet the most complicated question ever asked by humans. Why?
I mean, really. If you hadn't have been dragged by your parents every year from the age of conception, would you really go and spend valuable days of your life in the Jeremy Kyle breeding ground that is Blackpool? Why do we go there? What is the appeal? What's the crack with the plastic boobies and 'Kiss Me Quick **** Me Slow' hats? Despite the complexity of the issue, the answer is very simplistic: Good memories.
I have a long and colourful history with Blackpool. I used to go there with my Mum, Auntie Jean, Uncle Jimmy and Grandmother for New years Eve celebrations when I was young. There are still a few photographs of me wearing a red bow-tie floating around from those days. Long walks down the Golden Mile before the evening party with lots of falling balloons and cheesy music. An old man who could seemingly pull his own thumb off. Collecting party popper shells to take home and use on some sort of art project on a Sunday afternoon using masses of UHT glue, toilet rolls and multi-coloured card. An empty cigar case. All these things are an ensemble of all those years we went there.Of course, on top of these memories, there are the ones of day trips during the summer holidays as a child. Again, wondering up and down the Golden Mile,a pocket full of two pence pieces weighing me down. The BINGO being called in the background as I play on the 'Arabian Derby' game with 17 other hopefuls, trying to win a soft toy.
Then we have the illuminations. Every year, for those of you that done know, Blackpool lights up with decorations of all colours, sizes and themes and people from all over the country, nay, the world, come to drive down the Golden Mile and view them. I remember going with my mum and dad in the Rover. The traffic was moving so slowly so I was allowed to stand with my head out of the sunroof so I could see all there was to see. I haven;t been to see the illuminations in years. maybe I should venture there this year, when the nights draw in, and the lights come on?
The most prominent and enjoyable memories I have brought home from Blackpool are those associated with the Boys' Brigade. For year-on-year we went as the 18th Wigan company to first, watch the North West District annual display, and in later years, perform there four times; Twice as a band, and twice as a rifle drill team. Each time we performed, we received a standing ovation. Life was good. I also had the honour of both escorting and carrying the colours on two occasions.But it's not only the performances that stick in my mind, but the mischief and mayhem that used to occur. People getting lost in the secret passages in Blackpool Tower as we sneaked from our base in the circus into the attractions above happened year after year. There was also the annual task set by my 'friends' of trying to get me to eat Mr Whippy ice cream, knowing full well I was allergic to it. Luckily they never managed it and I am still here to tell the tale.
There are a million and one reasons why I love going to Blackpool because I have a million and one good memories of the place. And today I added one more. I got to go there with two friends from the other side of the world who mean the world to me.
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