Free gigs, noisy yellow Yanks and holes in the sky - where are they now?
The Lark in the ParkWhen 2FM was RTÉ Radio 2, it more than earned its licence fee - at least in the eyes of those who flocked to the Lark in the Park events, featuring the cream of local talent. Imagine a mini-Oxegen, only free and without heavy security. And no one bigger than Hothouse Flowers (featuring Liam Ó Maonlaí, left). The Beat on the Street was another summer staple - basically a big stereo pumping out the hits of the day while Radio 2 jocks pranced around. We made our own entertainment back then.
White dog poo.In prehistoric times, this mythological faecal matter seemed to be scattered over the land, but sightings of the chalky substance are now rare. Two theories abound: one, dogs' diets have changed, and two, the poo is cleaned up by the owner before it has a chance to be "sun-dried".
Loud American touristsQuick, Martha! Take a picture! On second thoughts, don't. We wouldn't want to come across as obnoxious. We fondly remember Hiram and Martha, the archetypal American loudmouths, dressed in bright yellow, with a big camera strapped around their necks. But did they ever exist? Our transatlantic visitors are polite, conscientious and clued-in - in fact, the Yanks are so damn nice, it's hard to imagine them ever having been anything less than models of etiquette.
The hole in the ozone layerWhile Ronald Reagan was pursuing his Star Wars missile programme and pushing all the wrong buttons, the free world was gripped by an even greater terror. The biggest threat to civilisation arrived every summer, looming miles above our heads and preparing to sizzle us with deadly ultraviolet rays. The culprit was chlorofluorocarbons - CFCs, found in refrigerators and aerosols. So every time we opened the cooler or sprayed whipped cream on our sundaes, we were contributing to the depletion of the Earth's ozone. The hole is still there - in fact, it's bigger than ever, but we've got more pressing concerns these days, such as the great big hole in our finances.
Vital statistics"Meet Vicky, she's a Sagittarius and is a curvy 34-28-32." There was once a time when the media summed a woman up in a simple six-digit equation, and her measurements were blithely bandied around as though she were a prize heifer. But what use was this information to men? We'd hardly have turned down a beautiful girl if she was an inch or two short of the ideal.
Series concluded
