Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Creativity, Family, Mum, My Childhood, Parents, Technology, Television
I’m old.
Fucking ancient.
And yet, despite 1000’s of years passing between my single digit years and now, there are some things I remember clearly and dearly. One of those are the kids TV shows I watched growing up.
Not all of them, of course, but some.
Trumpton.
Campbellwick Greene.
Why Don’t You.
The Magic Roundabout.
Rhubarb And Custard.
Pipkins.
Mr Benn.
Mr Benn was one I particularly liked.
It was a cartoon about a man – Mr Benn – who would leave his house and visit a fancy-dress shop nearby.
Each episode, the owner of the shop would invite hum to the changing room to try on an outfit before ushering him through a magic door at the back of the changing room. From there, he would enter a world linked to whatever outfit he was wearing and go on a small adventure.
Each episode would end with him reappearing back in the changing room holding a small souvenir connected to where he’d just been and that would be it.
It was short, innocent and – for a 5 year old in Nottingham – bloody brilliant.
A window into other world’s and possibilities.
A chance to explore and imagine.
A taste of what could await.
I have probably not seen an episode of Mr Benn for almost 5 decades and yet it still has a warm place in my heart. If you asked me how many episodes I’d have watched, I’d have probably said hundreds … watching them either with my Mum when they were on at lunchtime or later in the afternoon when I was home from school.
So you can imagine my surprise when recently I saw this …
WHATTHEFUCK!???
If finding out Mr Benn’s house was a real place wasn’t amazing enough … I then discover there were only 13 episodes ever made.
THIRTEEN?
I am in utter shock.
I’d have bet everything I own saying I’d watched more than 13 different episodes.
Fuck, I thought I watched nearly all of that in a single week.
I don’t know if I’m more confused by the fact I thought I’d watched hundreds or that they only made 13.
Why so few?
It’s not like it was amazing animation.
What else of my childhood was a lie?
Was pulling a ’64 pavement slab wheelie’ on a Raleigh Grifter not really legendary?
Was Sarah Holtham not actually the prettiest girl in the World?
Was the Philips G7000 not really the cutting edge of technology?
Was the Argos Catalogue a compendium of tat rather than gold?
Were Hedgehog Flavored Crisps a bit shit?
I don’t know if I can ever recover from this …
Before I saw that image I thought I’d had a great childhood and now …
So thanks a lot Mr Benn, you’ve just fucked my entire childhood … but I’ll still go visit your house next time I’m in London.