In the old days, you went to the pictures. Today you go to the cinema.

Why do they always have to change the names of everything? You just get used to one thing and then some bright spark decides that it is politically incorrect or possibly even insulting to some obscure nation or religion.

When I was a lad, you would go to the Picture House or the Strand Cinema to watch the latest western.

Then we would go home and play cowboys and Indians. Many a battle was fought in the back gardens of Cedar Grove or the Cafe River, but not any more.

For one thing, cowboy films have had their day. A young boy’s aggression is now more likely be satisfied in cyberspace by saving our world from the latest variety of galactic invader.

But not only are western films out of fashion, in line with many other old-time memories, the Americans have altered all the names.

The locals, who were once known as Indians are now rightly called Native Americans. But somehow, ’cowboys and Indians’ used to sound much better than ’land-grabbing invaders and Native Americans’.

But this has nothing whatsoever to do with this week’s topic.

The original plan was to have a bit of a chat about flies. I was going to start off with a few words on film categories.

You know what I mean, a film suitable for all audiences would be classified ’U’. Then came ’A’, and finally ’X’. To view an ’X’ film, you had to be aged 16 or over.

A milestone indeed was reached when you saw your first ’X’ film, (officially).

My first ’X’ was a thriller called ’The Fly’.

The plot was simple, but to a young cinema goer whose previous most exciting film was a Tom and Jerry cartoon, ’The Fly’ was edge of the seat material.

It was about a scientist who had built a time machine to carry a traveller to a distant time zone. This brave soul would be strapped into his seat in the capsule, set the dial to the chosen year and press the button.

After a suitably dramatic bout of buzzing and flashing, the scientific guinea pig would hopefully re-appear in the future.

The plot told the story that the world was heading for a catastrophic disaster that could only be avoided by someone who could travel ahead to the future and change the outcome of what was to happen.

The time machine was a complete success, but for one thing. Just as the capsule door closed, no-one had noticed the fly that had just buzzed into the room at the last second and entered the sterile chamber.

The capsule had been contaminated and no-one had noticed. As the buzzing and the flashing slowly faded away, the door of the capsule opened and out stepped the scientist.

A man with a body of a human and the head of a fly.

For the life of me, I just cannot remember how the story continued, but hey ho, all I was doing was trying to get to this week’s subject which, surprise, surprise, is about flies.

Have you been pestered with flies?

This year, they just seem to have been an absolute nuisance. They’re quite small, slow moving and permanently following you around the house.

They might be small, but they are impossible to swat. They sit and watch as you roll up yesterday’s Daily Mail, sit and watch as you carefully take aim and they sit and watch as you start your down stroke.

Then they casually and gracefully lift off and land on your ear.

We bought a tin of fly spray. It was a waste of time. I think that they actually like the taste of the stuff.

I tried to buy some old style fly papers. Discontinued.

Does anyone know where you can buy spiders?

A decade ago Pullyman - aka Michael Cowin - was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, a condition that affects people in different ways. Michael discovered writing and Island Life is featuring some of his musings. Sometimes topical, sometimes nostalgic, read about life as seen through the eyes of Pullyman