Its hard to believe that its nearly thirty years since the films Grease and Saturday Night Fever hit our local Cinemas.

Who would have known then, what a smash hit they were to be, and the great songs, would be as popular so many years later.

Not only, did some of the music come out before the film, but it seemed to spark a revival in all things fifties including hairstyles.

The Teddy Boy look came back with a vengeance mixed with the leather bomber jackets revived in the late seventies.

I remember going to a little hair dressers, based in a cellar in Balfour Road to have my D A done.

My quiff was as pointed as an ice cream cone like something out of the Goodies. Drainpipe jeans were slowly taking over from flares and everybody tried to live Runcorn's version of the American dream?

Including wearing silver medallions the size of bath plugs on long chains or bootlace ties shirts open to the waist.

I remember being so proud of my quiff. In fact I slept with my head slightly above the pillow, so as to not ruffle my hair.

Every Wednesday I had a blow wave and the hairdresser sprayed my quiff to an inch of its life.

The songs made us want to boogie late into the night at the Cherry Tree 11-30p.m. When dancing was far more important then than getting drunk.

Yes! Runcorn had its Saturday Night Fever, its Grease and the Bee Gees led us to believe we owned the world.

Now we are concentrating on staying alive! Where did those wonderful hairstyles go, and that hair we all had those days, one can of hairspray would be enough for the whole street now.

Now again we still try to strut our stuff, down to the paper shop for an Echo and the Bookies to put a bet on.

All smoothing, our long gone, imaginary quiffs of thirty years ago.

Ah! Ah! ah! Staying alive