When Grandpa Was A Boy, Were There Any Dinosaurs?

Tag archive: 1967

Un Petit D’Un Petit

Un Petit D’Un Petit, alias Humpty Dumpty, illustrated by John Tenniel

1967: Luis van Rooten’s Mots d’Heures: Gousses, Rames, a collection of nursery rhymes translated from English into French, attempted to retain the original sounds of the words rather than their meanings.

Van Rooten’s version of “Hickory dickory dock”, for example, made no mention of la souris scampering up l’horloge; instead, “De Meuse raines, houp! de cloque”.

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Legacy Of Empire

1967: The British imperial presence in Aden ended on 29 November. Sir Richard Turnbull, the last-but-one high commissioner, had remarked that when the British Empire finally disappeared it would leave behind only two monuments: “one was the game of Association Football, the other was the expression ‘Fuck off’ ”.

Source: Niall Ferguson, Empire: How Britain Made the Modern World (2003), p. 358

Natural Causes

1967: Grigori Rasputin was murdered in Petrograd on the night of 29 December 1916. Prince Felix Yusupov and his fellow conspirators poisoned Rasputin with cyanide, shot him four times, clubbed him, kicked him, tied him up and finally pushed him through a hole in the ice on the River Neva.

After the Russian Revolution, Yusupov fled abroad and lived most of the rest of his life in Paris. He died on 27 September 1967 at the age of 80 – unlike Rasputin, from natural causes.

Prince Felix Yusupov, photographed in 1914

Source: Andrew Cook, To Kill Rasputin: The Life and Death of Grigori Rasputin (2005), p. 226

Six O’Clock Swill Comes To An End

1967: South Australia became the last Australian state to abolish 6 o’clock closing at hotel bars. That put an end to the hour of frantic drinking after men finished work, characterised by “a flurry of shirt-sleeves, spilt froth, slapped-down change, and swished dish-cloths,” when “glasses of beer were slid two or three at a time along the wet counter-tops as fast as they could be pulled.” Then came the spectacle, after closing time, of drunken men tumbling out into the streets, lurching and vomiting their way home. No wonder it was called “the 6 o’clock swill”.

Source: J.M. Freeland, The Australian Pub (1966), p. 176

A barmaid at work in Petty’s Hotel in Sydney in 1941, photographed by Max Dupain

Orton Breezes In

1967: Returning from a holiday of sun, sea, sand and homosexual sex in Morocco, the playwright Joe Orton breezed through British customs without a hitch. His technique: “I simply chose the customs officer that, in an emergency, I wouldn’t mind sleeping with, and got through without having even to open my case.”

Source: Joe Orton, The Orton Diaries, ed. John Lahr (1986), p. 230