Cultureshock

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Video transcript

This story relates to a toy Beatles guitar I was given as a child. I loved strumming that guitar and I loved it especially because my older sister had a proper guitar which she learned to play quite well. I have very happy memories of my childhood and looking at childhood photos evokes many memories of particular incidents and also particular toys and friends. In fact when I look at this photograph I am taken right back and I can see the guitar in detail, hear every string as I plucked and strummed and also smell the orange and cream plastic – happy days!

This story is just a fun, tongue in check tale of a child wanting a particular toy. It has no relation at all to my story but it does bring in some characters from the toy exhibition and has a happy ending.

The day dawned gloomy just like my mood. For one moment I couldn’t remember why the dark cloud enveloped me but then it hit me like a thunder bolt as I heard my sister strumming her new guitar in the next room. She wanted a guitar and she got it. I wanted a guitar and I wanted one achingly, jealously, and vindictively. I pulled on my knitted sweater with collar and buttons which was knitted by my mate Baz. He always knew how to help me and I always knew I could rely on his judgement. I knew he’d be able to advise what to do. ‘Hey’ he called when he saw me coming through the door. ‘Listen, you can’t just want to keep up with your mates all the time. Its just peer pressure. Remember you are your own person; you’ve got your own hobbies. What about all the horse eventing you do? Think about the fashions you love to wear. I didn’t knit that little number for nothing you know. You know all your friends emulate you.’ ‘Come on’ Baz continued ‘Let’s go down town to see who’s hanging about’. We walked towards the high street. A coffee with my mate should do the trick and take my mind off guitars. Then I saw the crowd outside the shop – my friends and they were all holding guitars. In my mind they were huge, golden, dazzling guitars goading me. ‘Look here’ said Baz, ‘I know a mate who’s off down to London next week. He has contacts and Paddy may be able to get you a guitar’. One week later, a special delivery and one happy girl.