Thanks Andrew and Jim.
Jim. I must confess to being a 'Mod'. in the '60's.
Simply because being a lowly Apprentice, I couldn't afford a scooter and hated motorbikes (still do, at least some of the born again idiots riding them!) My 'Battle Ground' was N. Wales at Rhyl Beach. I hitch hiked there with my sleeping bag over my shoulder. The Mods and Rockers there were quite content to just chase each other up and down the beach, goad the Police and aim a few half hearted kicks about and hurl ice cream (With a chocolate flake, of course) at either leather gear or combat jackets, whichever camp you were in. There was never the nasty violence that happened 'Dahn Sarf'
My abiding memory was trying to find somewhere reasonably safe to kip. About 50 of us Mods. ended up in Rhyl railway sidings sleeping in empty carriages.
Around 5 am we awoke to loud bangings. Not the Rockers on an early morning raid, but a railway worker.
"Get off the train, you scruffy, smelly ba****ds, this train is bound for Chester!"
Sure enough, after but a few minutes, we heard and felt a heavy 'Clunk' as the engine coupled up, then the carriages began to move. All hell broke loose as hung over lads hurled sleeping bags out onto the track.
Happy, carefree days when folks just relied on common sense and had fun. The likes of which I doubt we will ever return to. Now we have this P.C., Health and Safety, superior beings in yellow jackets with clipboards society we have to endure. I'm so glad I had the best times to grow up in. No question.
I feel much better for that!
Love and peace, man.
Bob Dylan