TELEVISION FUN
[Dream
target date - October 1975]
Rubbish
tips always held a fascination to us as children and finding
something useful or recyclable presented such a thrill. Apart
from obvious lucky finds such as pram wheels (essential for
building wooden go-carts), old TV sets were a firm favourite.
Davo in particular would go
to great lengths to them into his Dad's workshop, where he
could painstakingly strip them of their electronic components
and the all important cathode ray tube.
The tube was best of all. Delicately
handled at the neck, where a dense cluster of coils could
still deliver a nasty electric shock even after several days
in the undergrowth. Davo was fortunate enough to live close
to the forestry, so he always got first choice of those dumped
TV screens. Word would soon travel around though and we'd
turn-up after school to watch the set being disected like
it was a dead frog or something. After the operation, the
tube was usually put into a wheel barrow so that we could
transport it safely back into the forest.
Watching someone scramble up the
trunk of a pine tree with a TV tube was far more interesting
than any TV programme. But it was a hard task getting something
so heavy into the higher branches. A task that demanded persistence,
strength and an extensive range of expletives.
It was raining by the time we
got the TV into position. The screen looked ridiculous, wedged
into the branches, perched like some weird bird, it's wiry tail
feathers trailing behind; red for live and black for neutral.
TREETOP TV
Freddy Barker came by and joined
Davo, Fletch and myself. He was armed with an air rifle, which
added an element of danger to the proceedings. However, it soon
became apparent that an air rifle is no match for the thick
glass of a television screen and Fred disappeared into the undergrowth
to shoot spuggies (Sparrows) instead.
We scratched around in the dirt
for suitable boulders, each one bouncing off the screen with
a hollow 'pang' which echoed through the dark forest. It was
a free-for-all. Best boulder wins! Some of the stones were so
large that they almost knocked the TV off its perch, but the
screen remained intact. Then all of a sudden, one of the missiles
penetrated the middle of the screen and the whole tube imploded.
It sounded like a bomb going off and we averted our eyes as
a cloud of powered fragments engulfed the bottom of the tree.
TV REPEATS
Several months later, Steve Clay
and I found another set in the forest. It was a big tube, a
twenty eight incher. it had probably been dumped because someone
had upgraded their black and white set for a colour one. We
were all going through an explosive phase at the time, experimenting
with gunpowder, potassium-based fertiliser and petrol. We had
a bit of a testing-range in the forest, where a huge gulley
had opened up due to subsidence from disused pit seams. It was
about twelve feet deep and seven feet across. There were examples
of subsidence all over the forest, but this one was deep enough
to contain our fiercest explosions.
Our original idea was to hurl
the set into the gulley, but when we arrived there, we found
it to be full of water. Slurry water was periodically discharged
into the forest via a series of large water pipes. We followed
one of these back to the original slurry-pond, and there, got
inspiration for another TV event.
SLURRY POND STINGRAY
The tube was launched ceremoniously
across the surface of the lake. It floated, bobbing up and down
on the small waves, the neck extending out of the water like
a periscope. The location was suitably equipped with lots of
half-bricks which proceeded to rain down on our seafaring target.
This was different to tree-based bombardment; the heavier the
brick, the more the tube bounced in the water, sometimes rolling
over completely.
Our only chance of blowing the
tube would be to exploit the fragile area around the neck. We
changed tactics, instead of throwing building bricks up into
the air, smaller stones were pelted across the murky grey water,
skimming the surface like mini torpedoes. Eventually, one of
them hit home and the set imploded like a depth charge, lifting
a torrent of water high into the air. It looked just like the
opening title sequence to Gerry Anderson's Stingray.
Our slurry pond Stingray remains
one of the most spectacular explosions we ever created. I can
still hear the boom and the sizzling aftermath as thousands
of glass fragments pitter-pattered into the water. It was an
explosion worthy of any Gerry Anderson programme and I'm sure
he would have proud of us.
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Copyright
- Paul Fillingham
Last update - 19 August, 2001
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