Happy Birthday Thunderbirds and Radio 1.

Happy Birthday Thunderbirds and Radio 1.

One was perhaps the most deeply loved of TV children's programmes and the other was a radio station who broke the illegal monopoly of pirate radio, pioneering at the time and almost welcomed warmly as a radical departure from the norm. Both were immensely entertaining, hugely enjoyable and wonderfully reassuring at a time when some of us were about to tackle the academic complexities of primary school. To say we dreaded that first day at school would be the grossest of understatement. 

Today though, we celebrate the 60th anniversary of one of the greatest, most remarkable and loveliest of all children's programmes for that was target market, the kids who couldn't believe that the days of black and white could produce something so prophetic, forward thinking and futuristic. We remember it because we were there to witness those stunning puppet figures and, quite amusingly, the puppeteers pulling the strings. 

It is now 60 years ago to the day since Thunderbirds hit our TV screens. For some of us it was a golden childhood moment and one we'll always use as a kind of cultural reference point. We came home from school barely aware of the wider world because we were so engrossed in Thunderbirds. There were no high tech gadgets, no distractions such as I phones or Smart Phones, no screens, nothing to pre-occupy us in a way that back in 1967 would have been considered tedious or degrading. Thunderbirds was pure escapism, a thrilling kids adventure story, puppets in excelsius and marvellous graphics.

The brainchild of husband and wife team Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, Thunderbirds was quite literally go on this day in 1967. For four years, Thunderbirds was spellbinding and humorous with extremely flexible characters who could adapt so easily to any given situation and had American voices. The Andersons, from the start, were determined to give the children of the late 1960s a wondrous playground of space age figures, a closely knit family unit and absolute togetherness in all crisis.

Thunderbirds always ticked all of our boxes because it somehow felt like an extension of our childish lifestyle, a period of time that gave us even more toys and games. Up until then, we'd always been accustomed to Etch A Sketch, Lego and Meccano for our birthdays and then came Thunderbirds. So, we probably sat down excitedly in front of our dependable black and white DER 12 inch TV set. Now, from what you can remember, there were only two channels up until the impending arrival of BBC Two in the same year and numbers around the dial which represented both the BBC and ITV. 9 was ITV and the BBC was, for all we knew, 65.

What you had to remember is that in those days we had a TV aerial on the top of the wooden box that was our TV and, as we all know, that TV aerial had a mind of its own. It would serve us admirably for the best part of ten or fifteen years. Or it might have been slightly longer but by then we didn't care. The picture was always terrible and fuzzy, there were hundreds of squiggly lines on the screen and there was a slow deterioration into decrepitude, the TV itself just refusing one day to show anything, not working at all anymore. We mourned the loss of our black and white TV because we knew that somebody had just invented colour TV.

And so was born Thunderbirds. On Tracy Island, there was father Jeff Tracy, sitting permanently in some luxurious pad surrounded by weird and wonderful objects that either rose up from the table he was sitting at or just develop into some sophisticated piece of equipment none of us had ever seen. Jeff Tracy had four sons Scott, Virgil, Alan and Gordon, who were always there for each other, the best of friends. It was a relationship that made us feel good about the cohesive family unit. Scott was probably regarded as the leader of the pack, good fun, while Virgil was dedicated and committed to the cause and Alan was similarly loving and supportive and so positive. We liked what we were seeing. 

Meanwhile, in what seemed like some kind of study or a scientific laboratory there was Brains. Now Brains was a clever intellectual, always resolving confusion, always ready to come up with sensible and practical theories or solutions to knotty problems. Brains was a cool guy, a smart dude, reliable and quite thorough in his analysis of anything that didn't seem to make any sense. 

And then there was Lady Penelope and her chauffeur Parker who were always required for emergencies, contingency measures in case the evil villains threatened to blow up Tracy Island.  And there were villains, horrible individuals you would never invite to your dinner party. They were baddies who kept scheming, conniving, plotting behind the Tracy family and hellbent on killing them. It was all we could have wished for in children's TV. In fact, apart from the brilliant Blue Peter and Magpie, it was all we had but did we complain? No, we didn't because Thunderbirds had it all.  Heroes and villains. None of us could ask for more and we were deeply satisfied. 

There was also the other children's TV national treasure of a similar ilk. Captain Scarlett and the Mysterons was in many ways, mysterious but fascinating, another set of puppets to treasure. Captain Scarlett was the he man, masculine, untouchable, unbeatable, a strong and powerful boy comic character who always rescued damsels in distress from explosions and potential disasters. Captain Scarlett was accompanied by the obligatory mermaid. You had to include mermaids on TV and Marina was no exception to the rule. Aqua Marina was soft and feminine, gliding across the bottom of the ocean with effortless ease. 

And finally we also celebrate the 58th birthday of Radio One. Now Radio One was the culmination of a BBC project that, for years, they must have been desperate to complete. While Radio Caroline and London were still ruling the waves of pirate radio, the Beeb were getting all hot and bothered about things that were illegal, prohibitive, forbidden and deeply repulsive. How do they broadcast pop music from a boat next to coastal waters in Essex with a huge transmitter soaring into the air? Who gave them permission to have funky, groovy DJs playing 45s vinyl records and, predominantly, tracks from heavy rock albums?

So was born Radio 1 on this day 60 years ago. Tony Blackburn, a pirate hijacked by the BBC, sat in front of a control desk of turntables with Robin Scott, by then much older than the twenty something Blackburn at the time. The very first record to be played on Radio One, as is also fairly well known, was the Move's Flowers in the Rain. In the years following its arrival on the 247 medium wave band, yet more jolly, funny, at times eccentric and controversial DJs, kept us entertained. Disc jockeys were the voices behind the microphone, invisible presenters but witty and articulate who occasionally stepped over the boundaries of what might have been construed as disgusting and morally unacceptable. 

There was Dave Lee Travis, the recently late and much missed Johnny Walker and Noel Edmonds who deposed Tony Blackburn from his breakfast show hot seat. There was Paul Burnett, Paul Gambaccini, David Hamilton, the superb Emperor Rosko and, more recently, the late but unforgettably magnificent Steve Wright. Radio 1 always kept its fingers on the pulse of modern thinking, never slacking in their quest to pander to the whims of a teenage audience, promoting new bands and sounds, hungry for more and more listeners and introducing the Top 40 on a Sunday evening with Tom Browne at the helm during the 1970s.

Saturday lunchtimes were the exclusive property of Australian DJ Alan Freeman, a lovely, jokey, and always upbeat gentleman who presented Pick of the Pops, a show combining the very best of the retro chart run down from the 1950, 60s, 70s and 80s, juxtaposing both the modern and nostalgic market.  And then there was Canadian DJ Kid Jensen and the deeply respected John Peel who did his utmost to give a proper window of opportunity to up and coming punk bands. Peel loved to be a champion of the obscure and esoteric.

Yes, we all recall what happened on that now far off distant autumnal morning in Ilford, Essex. You walked down to a couple's house where their son was preparing for his first day at primary school. In the mind's eye you can still see the frantic hustle and bustle as the son packed his satchel and milk was hurriedly poured over Corn Flakes or whatever brand of cereal was available. 

Then, mum lovingly switched on the kettle for another cup of tea while dad threw his work papers into the most compact of suitcases. Here was the epicentre of much industry and diligence. But this was 1967 and you can convince yourself that the Beatles were still on the way to the iconic Abbey Road recording studios with George Martin masterminding all of the orchestrations and production values of the Fab Four.  In the fondest imagination, this had to be an authentic memory even though you were only four at the time. Young children are so receptive to the sounds of 1960s music or we'd like to think so. 

But it's happy birthday to both Radio 1 and Thunderbirds. You were like childhood friends in our early youth, accompanying us all the way through to adolescence and teenage years. Thunderbirds was just a fantastic revelation in those early infant years. Puppets were our pals, our buddies on the sofa or those flickering images on a TV screen. And, for all the warm exhortations from our parents pleading with us to move right away from the telly, we invariably thought we were in the land of TV fantasy. Indeed we probably were.