Many would say we have an unhealthy – in all senses of the word – obsession with fast-food collosus McDonald’s.

Those golden arches seem to be everywhere – from town centres to a seemingly relentless opening of drive-thru restaurants.

Such is our greed for a Big Mac, McNuggets or the you-always-have-to-wait-longer-for-it Fillet-o-Fish, many of Kent’s major towns have multiple branches.

And if you stray into those rare areas without one in your eye-line, then chances are the wrappers from its foods will be lurking in a gutter near you.

You’d think we’d have got bored with it by now wouldn’t you? After all, once it was the main purveyor of fast food, but the sheer choice of alternatives on offer today doesn’t seem to have lessened our desire for its grub.

Because it appears we did just that with McDonald’s forerunner in this country – Wimpy.

Now, before you all say ‘but the two were very different animals’ (for which you would be quite correct), Wimpy was, for a while back in the late 1970s and early 80s the destination of choice for young folk wanting a taste of that American culture we’ve all embraced so heartily ever since, spearheaded by Mc-Ruddy-Donald’s.

Wimpy offered a range of burgers and chips – and others besides – but rather than just pack you off to eat them in your car you sat down and enjoyed a restaurant ‘experience’.

I don’t quite know what would happen in a McDonald’s upon a Saturday night if it introduced crockery and cutlery to its offering, but, personally, I don’t think I’d want to hang around to find out.

But Wimpy did just that. And, while my memory as the years go by isn’t what it used to be, I don’t recall lots of stabbings or plate smashing hitting the headlines.

You could, of course, still order ‘to go’ but most took a rather more relaxed approach.

For any child of the late 70s or early 80s it was the restaurant you dreamed birthday treats would be held for your financially flushed chums. Personally, my parents were always of the ‘burgers aren’t good for you’ school of thought. My youthful waistline would suggest I found ample alternatives to pile on the pounds.

It could not, however, compete with the garish delights of McDonald’s. Its, at first, slow spread across the UK was once greeted with as much excitement in Kent towns as if Greggs opened a factory outlet offering cut-price sausage rolls today. But then it was completely new and advertised until your eyes bled.

Ronald McDonald (remember him?) was constantly trying to avoid losing his grub to Hamburglar, until, one assumes, it occured to McDonald’s that a childish clown was no longer a family friendly figure but one more likely to give kids the heebie-jeebies and that a burglar character probably wasn’t a good brand ambassador.

Wimpy’s ‘come on over, we’re having a Wimpy’ ditty was as catchy as hell but the kids wanted the clown’s array of bagged-up dehydration-inducing fries and McWhateverTheyAres.

Little old Wimpy didn’t really stand a chance. It had nearly 400 restaurants across the UK when McDonald’s first arrived.

Yet, in the same way in which I remain totally amazed at WHSmith’s survival over all these tumultuous years for the retail sector, Wimpy does still continue today.

Perhaps more remarkably, it still markets a ‘Bender in a Bun’ – despite the sniggers of generations - a sausage in a roll for those unfamilar with the culinary treat.

Today it plays to its history – positioning itself more as a ‘traditional’ American diner than a McDonald’s rival. It’s even brought back its original logo.

It is a rather more slimmed down operation though. Fewer than 70 stores remain. Remarkably, 10% of those are in Kent. Clearly we still hold them close to our heart. I guess that’s nostalgia for you.