Didsburydad's Blog

From the not so mean streets of M20, blog about being a dad, Didsbury and dealing with parental confusion

Archive for the tag “Alderly Edge”

Didsbury; the birds, the barbers, the ship canal

Melton Mowbray has its Pork Pies and Eccles its cakes. Swindon, roundabouts and Hull white telephone boxes. Think of London and Dick Whittington springs to mind. Edinburgh – and it’s Greyfriars’ Bobby yapping at you from the gates of the cemetery, a saucer of Irn Bru having been lapped.

But what about Didsbury?

This birthplace of the RSPB, final home of Manchester Ship Canal’s Daniel Adamson and residence of the current Poet Laureate. This leafy suburb was the birthplace of 70s footballer/cricketer Jim Cumbes; hosts the resting place of two of bonnie Prince Charlie’s men and incorporates Fletcher Moss; man, pub and meadow.

A river runs through it.

What are we synonymous with?

Didsbury Son’s self-created Scooby Sandwich? It features 5 essential hydrogenated e-numbers and several incompatible layers. It is good, but…

Didsbury still loves its birds. Rare birds by the river, well-hung ones in Evans and mesmerising rotisseried chickens at The Didsbury Village Farm Shop.

The ship canal spirit lives on in the Mersey Basin and there are professional, amateur and Tai Chi inspired poets giving our village rhyme and lyrical beauty; but they do not define us.

So beyond supermarkets, young professionals and an M20 postcode what is our USP?

I think we have two.
Not the abysmal cell-like flats that have replaced two of our iconic buildings (Capitol Theatre where The Avengers was shot, Withington Hospital where I had my first endoscopy).
Not the ignoring of private car spaces and general manners by the not so yummy mummies at our primary schools.
Not even Wilkinsons on Barlow Moor Road, the shop that defies progress in the most delicious fashion.

In Didsbury – beyond doctors, lawyers, teachers, media luvvies and music biz veterans we do Barbers and Coffee Shops like no other village, enclave, borough or suburb.

Muswell Hill LOOK and LEARN. Alderley Edge, tell the nanny to take notes.

The spirit of Sid the Barber lives on. From Chalkie White and Blade in the East of Didsbury, down past the barbers on School Lane that now outnumber residential houses 2-1. From John at Gentry Grooming and the achingly naff Edward Scissorhands to West Didsbury’s boho barbers of Burton Road. Say it loud Didsbury… We are hirsute and happy Didsbury Dads, Granddads, sons and nephews. Boys and men who need a regular trim and not necessarily anything for the weekend…

We can distinguish between an arabica bean and a full-roast from any number of differently coloured coffee shops. This is no village for Mellow Birds, wherever the RSPB was founded.

Sent from my iPhone

Mannequin Skywalker and Princess Layla v Didsbury Dad

Didsbury Son is having a love-in with all things Star Wars and is bringing me along for every elaborate twist, betrayal, and plot device.

I have been castigated for asking whether Garth Maul was the goat with the floppy ears and tutted at like the class dunce for musing on Jabba The Hut’s unresolved issues.

The first one is the 4th. When they did strike down Mikel John Obi it didn’t make him more powerful, it unleashed Liam Neeson and Ewan McGregor and The Clone Wars makes The Banana Splits seen like a linear narrative.

On the upside, Didsbury Son spent 5 silent hours on Christmas Day making something so complicated out of Lego Star Wars it had its own licence plate. This, with Didsbury Wife playing with Darcy Bussell meant I could slope off to eat turkey, read trivia and lie somewhere quiet navel gazing and shallow breathing from over-indulgence.

I know I have to engage and learn about the world of Star Wars. I sidestepped Harry Potter and his cronies finding it all a bit Alderly Edge. I have managed to keep us busy when Dr Who was onscreen and X Factor has not really caught on in our house. But. This seems like the real thing for Didsbury Son and it is my duty as a 21st Century dad to actively enrol in his new love. To embrace its passion until its inevitable demise sometime in the spring.

The shame being that I had only just worked out the difference between a grass and a water Pokemon. I am so last year.

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