Cher and Dolly Get a Pass, and It’s Not One For the Bus!

I’ve been meaning to write this one for a while, so here goes.

At what age do we start to feel old nowadays? For me it happened last year, and nothing to do with my chronological age or any physical changes that have come over me, it’s just that a new epidemic, in a very stealthy fashion, has taken the country by storm.

Never a week passes by without some female actor, presenter or well-known musician suddenly appearing on our screens looking ten years younger. I sometimes have to do a double take, as I find it hard to delve behind the frozen expression to find the lady within, one whom I often used to warm to greatly because of their enthusiastic and energetic performance. Now the acting seems wooden, as facial expressions are restricted to the mouth and chin – Nothing else moves a muscle, literally, for they are frozen into place with all manner of toxic bacteria.

How have we got to this point in our evolution? There seems to be no turning the tide either, as even those whom I thought would never partake, seem to be coerced into such madness for fear of their careers being over without it. We all know which “celebrities” are roughly the same age as ourselves (that would be 58 in my case) – Jeremy Clarkson is allowed to get grey and crinkly, whilst Carol Vorderman now looks about 20 years younger, and sports that polyurethane type of skin best suited to a child’s baby doll.

“They look really great for their age”, is a remark I often hear bandied about – Well yes, of course they do, as they’ve spent thousands of pounds nipping, tucking and freezing everything into place! I can’t help thinking some of these poor souls are going to suffer greatly in the years to come, as those syringes full of chemicals and fat, start to take their toll. There can be difficulty speaking, and a breakdown of the skin. Whoever decided a fat top lip was a good look anyway? It is the natural order of things that our bottom lip should be the predominant one, no doubt having evolved that way to best support feeding ourselves, talking and breathing.

thI3DN6OZONothing to be done but just accept that as a gender, females in the public eye are no longer allowed to grow old, which makes the rest of us who are not in the public eye, and have no intention of transforming ourselves, feel a bit shit. Just as well I’m a blogger and not a vlogger, as my 58-year-old appearance would no doubt have you faithful readers running for the hills.

But of course there are a few exceptions to my ire, and they are ladies who have made no secret of changing their appearance over the years, and who exist in the firmament of stars because they are indeed masters of human transformation – One of these is Cher and the other Dolly Parton. I can’t believe neither of these ladies have put in an appearance around here before, as I am a big fan of both.

Cher is now aged 72 and had a cameo role in the second of the Mama Mia! franchise of jukebox musicals last summer. We went to see it when on holiday, and the most hilarious scene in the entire film was when flawless “grandmother” Cher looked across the courtyard, only to catch the eye of her beau of many years previously, Fernando. This was a convoluted turn to the plotline indeed, but an excuse of course to include the song of the same name. Whilst promoting Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, Cher confirmed she was working on an album that would feature cover versions of songs by the band, and the album Dancing Queen, was released in the September of 2018. The album topped the Billboard Album Sales chart (the crowd-pleasing one), making it Cher’s first ever number-one album.

Another septuagenarian who popped up on our screens recently is Dolly Parton. She was across in the UK promoting the new West End extravaganza, 9 to 5: The Musical. Here is a clip from a few years ago when she appeared in the Legends slot at Glastonbury. I don’t know what Dolly’s undergarments are like, or if it’s all cosmetically augmented, but she certainly has a perky bottom for someone of her years.

Jolene by Dolly Parton:

There is of course so much I could write about these two ladies, but for another day probably. In the meantime, as if proof were needed (no not really), here is a photo-montage of two remarkable artists who have both been around since the 1960s, but like Peter Pan, don’t seem to have aged one iota. Both freely admit to having had “absolutely everything done” when it comes to holding the years at bay, but as neither of them seem to ever take themselves too seriously, I don’t begrudge them the squillions of dollars it must have taken one bit.

As for the song Jolene, even to this day Mr WIAA winces when he hears it. It came out at just the wrong time for him, before he’d had work done to remedy his slightly discoloured teeth, which had come about because of the tablets his mum had taken for morning sickness ahead of his birth. Oh yes, kids can be cruel, and because his teeth had a “greenish” hue, his classmates’ playground taunt was Joe Green, Joe Green, Joe Green, Joe Green…. , sung along to the melody of Dolly’s famous 1976 hit. Needless to say, his schooldays weren’t “the best years of his life” but it just goes to show, sometimes a bit of “work” is needed to make life as a teen just that little bit more tolerable.

Until next time….

Jolene Lyrics
(Song by Dolly Parton)

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can

Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, Jolene

He talks about you in his sleep
There’s nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name, Jolene

And I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man
But you don’t know what he means to me, Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can

You could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
He’s the only one for me, Jolene

I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don’t take him even though you can

Jolene, Jolene

Music from Guardians of the Galaxy #3 – Looking Glass and “Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl)”

Last time I wrote about my new venture I said I was a bit disappointed, but business models change and I have had to quickly adapt to a new reality. It seems the modern-day traveller/holiday-maker wants limited or no interaction with their host, but they do want all the nice touches that transform a trip from being an ordinary one, to a really special one.

So, I am now akin to the Scarlet Pimpernel (which is very apt as most of my guests so far have been French), where no-one ever sees me in person but each party now gets tailor-made treats and helpful local guides left for them. It only took a month, but already Alyson’s Highland Adventures (AHA) has had to be truncated to Highland Adventures (as Alyson is now nowhere in sight). My favourite sesame seed snack is now redundant!

The upside of this covert behaviour is that I get to spend a lot of time on my own in the holiday hideaway getting it ready for the next set of guests, and in the corner of the kitchen I have placed the high quality radio appropriated from my mum’s old retirement flat. I love listening to the radio, which is why I can’t work at home on my computer with it switched on (would be far too diverting). Listening to the radio whilst doing all those practical jobs needed to get a house ready for guests however is a totally different matter, and something I’ve been really enjoying. This week, whilst doing probably the seventh “deep clean” in a month (got to keep those 5 Star reviews coming), this song popped up on the airwaves and it was a joy to listen to. My feather duster and I had a fine old time flitting from room to room, like Cinderella without all the wildlife in tow (or was that Snow White?).

Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl) by Looking Glass:

Until I went to see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 at the cinema a couple of years ago, I don’t think I had ever consciously listened to Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl) by Looking Glass before, but it played a big part in the movie, just as the songs from Awesome Mix Vol. 1 had done for the first film in that really popular franchise. I had been meaning to write more posts featuring songs from GOTG for a while, as I have a whole category dedicated to them on my sidebar (link here), and here it was falling into my lap.

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Awesome Mix Vol. 2 was also full of ’70s songs that were played over and over by the lead character on an old Walkman, as a link to his dead mother and home in Missouri. Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl) plays in the opening scene, a flashback to before the lead character Peter, played by Chris Pratt, was born. When Peter reunites with his father Ego, played by Kurt Russell, the song comes to represent their conflict. To convince his son to help him rule the universe (Ego was aptly named), he quotes the song – Just as was the sea for the sailor who left Brandy behind, Ego left Peter’s mother to die on Earth while he went off to conquer the universe.

Here is a clip of that opening scene where they make great use of the Looking Glass song. It really threw us however when we went to see it, how young Kurt Russell looked in 2017. I thought they had maybe cut and paste old footage of when he was a young buck, but I have just discovered it was 20 per cent good make-up and the rest was done via the wonders of CGI, where they used a very similar looking younger actor and mapped his features to the older Kurt’s. Of course in interviews at the time, Kurt said very little of it was down to CGI and all that was needed was a bit of make up. Tut tut Kurt, your own egotism was getting the better of you I think.

As for Looking Glass, they were an American pop rock group that formed part of a genre called the Jersey Shore sound. Although this 1972 song was a No. 1 hit on the Billboard chart, it didn’t ever feature on the UK Singles Chart, which is why I probably hadn’t heard of them before. The song was not typical of the band’s sound however, which caused a problem at concerts. Audiences expected pop songs like this one, but Looking Glass usually played rock, which left the crowds disappointed.

So, “What’s It All About?” – I have a feeling the song only appeared on the radio the other day because there is a lot of interest at the moment in all things Marvel-related. The film Avengers: Endgame was released recently and amongst many other fine actors, it stars local girl Karen Gillan from the GOTG series. I remember well going to see her in school concerts what seems like no time ago – Just look at her now. I have also noticed my GOTG posts getting a fair amount of views of late, so here’s another to add to the series.

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Karen Gillan/Nebula

I have sought out many Scottish-themed DVDs for the holiday hideaway, but perhaps I should add some GOTG ones as well. Fans of Karen/Nebula might want to travel to the Highlands to find out a bit more about where she comes from. As it turns out, just a few streets away!

Until next time….

Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl) Lyrics
(Song by Elliot Lurie)

(Dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda)

There’s a port on a western bay
And it serves a hundred ships a day
Lonely sailors pass the time away
And talk about their homes

And there’s a girl in this harbor town
And she works layin’ whiskey down
They say “Brandy, fetch another round”
She serves them whiskey and wine

The sailors say “Brandy, you’re a fine girl” (you’re a fine girl)
“What a good wife you would be” (such a fine girl)
“Yeah your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea”
(Dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)

Brandy wears a braided chain
Made of finest silver from the North of Spain
A locket that bears the name
Of a man that Brandy loves

He came on a summer’s day
Bringin’ gifts from far away
But he made it clear he couldn’t stay
No harbor was his home

The sailor said “Brandy, you’re a fine girl” (you’re a fine girl)
“What a good wife you would be” (such a fine girl)
“But my life, my love and my lady is the sea”
(Dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)

Yeah, Brandy used to watch his eyes
When he told his sailor’s story
She could feel the ocean fall and rise
When she saw his ragin’ glory
But he had always told the truth, Lord, he was an honest man
And Brandy does her best to understand
(Dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)

At night when the bars close down
Brandy walks through a silent town
And loves a man who’s not around
She still can hear him say

She hears him say “Brandy, you’re a fine girl” (you’re a fine girl)
“What a good wife you would be” (such a fine girl)
“But my life, my love and my lady is the sea”
(Dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)

“Brandy, you’re a fine girl” (you’re a fine girl)
“What a good wife you would be” (such a fine girl)
“But my life, my love and my lady is the sea”

Doris Day, Calamity Jane and Another Hollywood Legend Gone

“You take the grey skies out of my way
You make the sun shine brighter than Doris Day”, sang George Michael back in 1984 and he wasn’t far wrong.

She certainly did shine brightly on the big screen but today she passed away, at the grand old age of 97. Despite her success, life threw her some lemons, but in typical Doris style, she made lemonade.

Back in March, I wrote my final “Moon Post” celebrating the appearance of the Sugar Moon in our skies. To round off the series I chose a couple of Doris Day songs as I had been reminded of her brilliance whilst spending a lovely afternoon watching Calamity Jane with my mum at the care home. She was a force of nature and I have just caught an old interview with her on telly tonight where she admits that the real Doris was Calamity Jane!

RIP to one of the most popular singers and actresses of the 20th century.

What's It All About?

Since discovering that all full moons have a name (given to them by the Native Americans who kept track of the months by the lunar calendar), I have written about each one as they appear in our skies. To accompany the post I always include one of the numerous songs that have been written about the moon and its many foibles.

To be honest I didn’t think I was going to write any more “moon posts” as I think I’ve  clocked up 17 now, and have had to start using the alternate name for the full moon. Also, most of my favourite moon-related songs have been written about now, so starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel a bit.

This week however, I had a really pleasurable afternoon with a number of ladies who suffer from dementia, and it reminded me there are a few more songs I had…

View original post 917 more words

Another Serious Post: A Much-loved Cousin who was “Football Crazy”

I had a long and sad journey to make yesterday as my 56-year-old cousin, who was diagnosed with MND nearly four years ago, finally lost his battle with that horrible “locked-in” disease. Down to the excellent round-the-clock care given to him by his mum and sisters, he outlived most other victims post diagnosis, but everyone knew it was time for his suffering to end and his friends turned out in droves to his memorial service in Aberdeen. It was standing room only and I don’t think I’ve ever been to a service where quite so many middle-aged men found it impossible to control their emotions. The main reason for this outpouring of emotion – Football.

My cousin didn’t have a glittering career or ever earn vast sums of money but he worked hard, raised a family and was a loving father, son and brother. From an early age however, his passion was football, and for nearly 35 yrs he played in the many Junior and Amateur leagues run within The Granite City. Apparently he was still playing at age 50, just two years before his diagnosis. Facebook is awash with tributes to him and of his many exploits on the pitch. He had played with, and captained, many teams over the years so knew the entire footballing fraternity and they had nothing but good things to say about him – A legend, a true gent, a prankster, a great friend, and so it went on.

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My cousin with one of the many cups he won over the years

There is a dearth of quality football songs out there, so I’m just going to go with the obvious choice, Football Crazy, a song written back in the days of yore but made popular by Robin Hall and Jimmie Macgregor when they regularly performed their version of it on the Tonight programme back in the early 1960s. I don’t remember watching this show back then (just too young), but I must have recognised the theme tune as I always knew when “Ciff” (that would be Cliff Michelmore) came on the telly, it was time for bed (we didn’t climb the stairs to Bedfordshire where I came from).

Strangely enough, last Saturday I went to our football stadium for the first time in nearly 20 years to watch the local team. DD’s boyfriend, who looks after the team’s physical (and often mental) welfare, got us tickets for the section where the player’s wives, kids and mums sit. They probably go to every home match and build up that familiarity and camaraderie from spending so much time together. I watched friends meet up for their weekly fix of football; old men turning up in their scarves who have probably been fans since they were lads; and the staff who kept everything running like clockwork – A massive footballing family. It was nice.

This week we have had the freaky scenario where two English teams who were not expected to come back with a win on aggregate, did just that – Even fans of other teams, usually fierce rivals, have come out and congratulated them on those fantastic wins. Just at the time we were supposed to have left the EU, both Liverpool and Tottenham Hotspur are on their way to Madrid and the Champion’s League Final. There’s going to be an English winner now whatever the outcome.

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This time last week I wasn’t really thinking much about football at all, but as with my cousin, if it has played a large part in your life you could be one of the lucky ones as you are part of one big family. Many of the middle-aged men at yesterday’s service had walked, ran and climbed improbable distances and heights to raise money for a vehicle for their old team-mate. They called it the Stephen-Hawking-mobile and there were many great outings in it. There have also been fund-raising dinners for MND and the many other charities who supported him and his family over the last few years. I don’t know for sure, but I doubt very much if my old work-mates would do the same for me.

On a personal level, one of the player’s mums sitting behind me at last weeks match turned out to be a carer at my mum’s nursing home. I had thought she looked familiar but out of context I couldn’t place her. Having now met with her this week at the home, I realise my mum will now potentially be even better looked after, as I am now (somewhat loosely) attached to her son’s team.

So, a sad week for my family, but as ever at these events it was great to meet up with people whom I have been out of touch with for a long time. Plans are now being made for me to keep in touch with everyone and contact details have been exchanged. It seems unfair that people who are the healthiest, fittest, kindest and most generous can be dealt such a cruel blow, but no-one ever said life was fair.

Until next time…

Football Crazy Original Lyrics
(Song by James Curran)

I have a favourite brother
And his Christian name is Paul.
He’s lately joined a football club
For he’s mad about football.
He’s got two black eyes already
And teeth lost from his gob,
Since Paul became a member of
That terrible football club.

For he’s football crazy,
He’s football mad,
The football it has taken away
The little bit o’ sense he had,
And it would take a dozen servants
To wash his clothes and scrub,
Since Paul became a member of
That terrible football club.

In the middle of the field, one afternoon,
The captain says, “Now Paul,
Would you kindly take this place-kick
Since you’re mad about football?”
So he took forty paces backwards,
Shot off from the mark.
The ball went sailing over the bar
And landed in New York.

His wife, she says she’ll leave him
If Paulie doesn’t keep
Away from football kicking
At night-time in his sleep.
He calls out ‘Pass, McGinty!”
And other things so droll
Last night he kicked her out of bed
And swore it was a goal!

Morrissey, The Fifth Dimension and “Wedding Bell Blues”!?

Well, I am in shock. Little did I think the first time that chap who seems to be doing a good job of alienating his fanbase would appear on these pages, would be because he has recorded a song I became smitten with during my first year of blogging. I’d just been to a wedding, which coincided with me also discovering the Laura Nyro penned Wedding Bell Blues for the first time. A nice synchronicity so it was a no-brainer I should write about it. As for this version by Morrissey, it was recorded with Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day, as one of the tracks for his soon-to-be-released album of ’60s covers called California Son. We might not agree with his politics and he is definitely sporting middle-age spread nowadays, but his voice still seems to be in good shape. I don’t know about you but I’m really loving his version of the song.

If you want to compare with the original by the 5th Dimension, here is the post from 2016, written the day after my friend’s daughter got married. Being objective, which version do you prefer? I’m wavering towards the new Morrissey one – Argh, is that still allowed I wonder.

First published October 2016

We had a wedding to attend yesterday and much of the week was spent preparing for it. When the song Wedding Bell Blues by The 5th Dimension came on the radio one afternoon, I was therefore already tuned into all things “wedding-y”. Secondly, as explained in my last post, of late I seem to have found myself continually gravitating towards songs from the late ‘60s, which I find bizarre as from a time when I was still a little kid. Finally, just as my fellow bloggers also have musical guilty pleasures, I felt a little uneasy at my appreciation of The 5th Dimension, but in no time at all I was dancing around the room and made a sneaky little purchase on iTunes.

Wedding Bell Blues by The 5th Dimension:

What I find fascinating about the ‘60s is that during that decade, in the wink of an eye, we moved from boy and girl bands, dressed very smartly in identical matching outfits and very rigid hairstyles to the wild abandon that constituted the hippy counterculture. The 5th Dimension were probably best-known for the song medley Aquarius/Let the Sun Shine In, from the stage musical Hair. Hard to believe now that full-scale nudity even came to Scotland in the form of a touring production of the show in 1969.

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But back to Wedding Bell Blues, it is a song that was written and originally recorded by Laura Nyro in 1966 but only really became a big hit when covered by The 5th Dimension in 1969. The song is written from the perspective of a woman whose boyfriend has not yet proposed to her, and she wonders, “Am I ever gonna see my wedding day?” The woman obviously adores her man but there is definitely a theme of frustration going on there as well.

There was a lot more to the above post, as I went on to describe the wedding, and how I embarrassed myself in front of the bride’s friends and family by embarking on the full six minute “re-enactment of the lyrics” dance to Bohemian Rhapsody, with Mr WIAA in tow (link here). For the moment though, I’m just curious, what do people think of this new Morrissey album and will you be adding it to your collection?

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Until next time…

Wedding Bell Blues Lyrics
(Song by Laura Nyro)

Bill I love you so
I always will
I look at you and see
the passion eyes of May
Oh but am I ever gonna see
my wedding day?
Oh I was on your side Bill
when you were losin’
I’d never scheme or lie Bill
There’s been no foolin’
but kisses and love won’t carry me
till you marry me Bill

Bill I love you so
I always will
and in your voice I hear
a choir of carousels
Oh but am I ever gonna hear
my wedding bells?
I was the one came runnin’
when you were lonely
I haven’t lived one day
not loving you only
but kisses and love won’t carry me
till you marry me Bill

Bill I love you so
I always will
and though devotion rules my heart
I take no bows
Oh but Bill you know
I wanna take my wedding vows
Come on Bill
Come on Bill
I got the wedding bell blues

End of Term Blues, Simon & Garfunkel and “The Boxer”

My last post was a bit of a rant as a result of having imbibed a few Friday night wines. Time to move on, quickly, as all a bit embarrassing now. Last week we had to submit the final assignment for my college course, and the week before, we had our very last lecture of the academic year. It coincided with that really warm spell of weather which rather nicely landed upon Easter weekend. Although most of us VC in from home (as we are scattered across the vast college catchment area), I did go in for that lecture, and although we were all sweltering in the heat, it was nice to have a last meet up before the long summer break.

end of term

Sadly, I will now lose touch with most of my classmates as I am a part-time student and will be covering the remaining modules not taken this year, next year. Fortunately for me, the girl whose work I definitely warm to most is the other part-time student, so our paths will continue to cross. She was one of the few of us to complete the 30 day NaPoWriMo challenge written about recently, and here is another set of her amazing poems – Same subject matter, same title but two entirely different approaches. She says they are just rough drafts, but they look pretty finished to me. I am in awe.

Adrenaline-soaked Gauze and Silver Nitrate #1

An ancient trade; a coiled spring in sinew
The blood of men that failed to make their mark
A stage all ringed about with ropes and snarling
(Once you’re) In, just you and him, a roaring dark

The cutman’s in the corner gaging damage
The only middle-ground in all this noise
An alchemy of bone and glove, blood-thunder
The bruises start to blossom round your eyes

The oldest game that only ever yielded
When you saw the Devil’s face and knew your worth
Or was it God’s – his vital disappointment
(You’re) laughing bloody, carved in iron and in wrath

Adrenaline-soaked Gauze and Silver Nitrate #2

Begin the age-old fight, again, unbloodied

The bullet’s spark with caution is a cunning scalpel
Older eyes keep watch, as scattered scars break forth
This broad shoulder, molten heavy, built for battle
Reach and stagger as he falls towards the earth
Rage withheld until the fight is almost over
Face it all son, keep the rein in good and tight
Grinning bloody through the carnage thunder
‘Let the blood flow till he’s back in front.’
A break, tuck the edge, and enswell stiffly
A hand-clasp to his feet – he trusts your poise
A nod; you’ll see him at the end, come swiftly
Let him go, steady now into the noise

Back into the ring, my son, unburied

For me, there can only be one song to include in this post – The Boxer by Simon & Garfunkel

The Boxer by Simon & Garfunkel:

I think I’m going to have to set up a new category on my sidebar as I realise this must be at least the fifth song featured around here by that talented duo from Queens, NYC. I really don’t think I remember the song from when it would have appeared in the UK Singles Chart in 1969, but when a friend gave me a home-recorded cassette tape (naughty) with their greatest hits a few years later, it was one of the stand out songs for me and often listened to. It apparently took 100 hours to record in two different studios in two cities, and in a church with a tiled dome which had great acoustics. The legendary record executive Clive Davis was told a standard 8-track recorder wasn’t going to be enough for all their material, so he stumped up for a 16-track, and it shows.

I hadn’t heard of the term placeholder before but it’s what they call the part of a song where they just haven’t come up with the lyrics yet. The temporary bit where any old words or sounds can slot in. When Paul Simon couldn’t find the words to replace the lie la lie chorus, it was left as was, unintentionally giving the song international appeal.

So, “What’s It All About?” – I have been a very part-time student over the last eight months, and each semester’s work is packed into an intense ten-week period so not been too onerous at all. Just got the results of my last assignment back though and pleased to report that all these years later I’m still a straight A’s student (fairly normal nowadays but it used to mean you were a swot). Sadly at this rate I’ll be drawing my state pension before I finish the full degree I embarked on last year, so I suspect that won’t be happening. I think I have another year left in me however of juggling the various commitments I seem to have taken on of late as well as doing the course. No more poetry next year, but glad my talented fellow student will still be by my side, as I can’t wait to see what wonderful material is still in her arsenal. I suspect it will be epic.

Until next time….

The Boxer Lyrics
(Song by Paul Simon)

I am just a poor boy
Though my story’s seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared,
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places
Only they would know

Lie la lie, lie la la la lie lie
Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la la lie

Asking only workman’s wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores
On Seventh Avenue
I do declare
There were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there, le le le le le le le

Lie la lie, lie la la la lie lie
Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la la lie

Then I’m laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters
Aren’t bleeding me
Leading me
Going home

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev’ry glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains, mmm mmm

Lie la lie, lie la la la lie lie
Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la la lie
Lie la lie, lie la la la lie lie
Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la la lie
Lie la lie, lie la la la lie lie……
Lie la lie, lie la la la la lie la la lie

First World Problems, Friday Pints and “Getting Fresh at The Weekend”

“It’s Friday, it’s five to five . . . It’s time to go to the pub!”

Those of us in the UK will remember well that Friday at five to five was always Crackerjack! time, but hey, that’s not been part of my weekend ritual for over 40 years. Neither has going to the pub been part of my weekend ritual for an awful long time, but somehow, it was just what was required earlier on this evening. I have now returned somewhat tipsy, and rather than it being a bit of a car crash, it used to be one of the best times for me to turn to blogging. Let’s see how it goes this time.

To get us in the weekend mood, I need a weekend song – Hmm…

The computer I’m on just now doesn’t have the master database of digital music loveliness, but having just done a quick search on YouTube, here is something that certainly does mention the weekend. I was very fond of Mel and Kim back in the day and here they are Showing Out and Getting Fresh at the Weekend.

Showing Out (Get Fresh At The Weekend) by Mel and Kim:

Why did I feel the need to go to the pub tonight? Because I’m disappointed. I’ve spent the last few months getting my new business up and running, but as ever, I have entered the market too late. Mr WIAA and myself seem to be experts at always getting in on the act a little too late and we are now the proud owners of a lovely holiday hideaway that looks as if it might cost more to run than the revenue we are likely to get back from paying guests. The Highlands of Scotland is up there amongst the top five regions in the world to visit in 2019, but it seems many of us had the same idea, so as a business idea it has turned out to be a poor one. I had stupidly thought that my plan to act as a local guide, and to come up with suggestions as to how guests could make the most of their stay, would be a winner – Turns out they just want a lockbox, good Wifi and for me to bugger off!

On the upside, if you fancy a short break, do it now, as in some place prices have returned to 1987 levels, back when Mel and Kim Appleby (mentioned above) hit the No. 1 spot in the UK with Respectable. Ok, so they were part of the much derided SAW stable of artists, but it’s the weekend and I have just visited the pub in town which was very much our hostelry of choice when I arrived in the Highlands back in 1987, so all very appropriate. Of course back then it was, and still is, the kind of bar where the likes of Mel and Kim would never have been selected on the jukebox. Oh no, it was more of a Celtic Rock kind of bar, but it was also where I met Mr WIAA a couple of years later, so happy memories of the place.

There is always a touch of sadness now when we watch the Appleby sisters looking so youthful and full of life, as Mel sadly died of cancer three years later, at the incredibly young age of 23. What they are wearing in this clip sums up the kind of clothing girls adopted around that time. Tops that fell off one shoulder, dolman sleeves, berets and trousers with belts that cinched in the waist. I blame Britney Spears for the demise of women’s waistlines – She hastened the falling out of fashion of the cinched in waist, with her famously low slung jeans that just covered the tootamuffin (my own made-up word) and no more. Girls could eat what they wanted and didn’t have to worry about fastening the top button of their jeans. In my humble opinion, she is single-handedly responsible for the current obesity crisis.

So, “What’s It All About?” – I’ve had a Friday pint, a bit of a rant and a bit of a nostalgic look back at the music and fashion of 1987. I never did get a Crackerjack pencil and I doubt if the kids of today would remotely want one – It would have to be the latest iPhone at the very least.

I’m sorry to have moaned about my new business, but it just hasn’t panned out how it was supposed to, so obviously a bit disappointing. Early days though, and hopefully as the summer progresses I will get more takers for Alyson’s Highland Adventures, guests who want a bit more interaction with their hosts, rather than simply getting the access code to the lockbox.

Apparently I’m off to the football tomorrow as in the two years DD’s boyfriend has been attached to the local team (in a medical capacity), she hasn’t been to a single match. Of course it would have to coincide with a particularly cold snap where hailstones have actually fallen here today. Our stadium was built on a piece of reclaimed land that juts out into the Moray Firth. It’s going to have to be a case of thermals and woolly hats I think. If we survive the temperatures, I will return to welcome my next set of guests, who with any luck, might be in the mood for a Highland Adventure.

Until next time….

Showing Out (Get Fresh at the Weekend) Lyrics
(Song by Mike Stock, Matt Aitken, Peter Waterman)

Show show show show, show show show show
Show show show show, show show show
Showin’ out, showin’ out
Showin’ out, showin’ out
Showin’ out, showin’ outGet fresh at the weekend
Showin’ out, showin’ out
Get fresh at the weekend
Showin’ out, showin’ outYou’d better live in love than luxury, it’s alright
And don’t be dining out on foolish dreams every nightO-o-only takes a moment to feel alright
Get fresh at the weekend, showin’ out
Get fresh at the weekend, showin’ out
Showin’ out, showin’ outCan’t afford to wear diamond and pearl, that’s okay
Wouldn’t want to be that kind of girl anywayO-o-only takes a moment to feel alright
Get fresh at the weekend, showin’ out
Get fresh at the weekend, showin’ out
Showin’ out, showin’ outI can supply you things
I can provide everything
If it’s the man’s hand that pays the price
Then you belong to meOnly only only o’ (show show show show)
Only only only o’ (show show show show)
Only only only o’ (show show show show)
Only only only o’ (show show show show)

Can’t afford to buy finer things, that’s alright
We won’t just lose our heads for anything anytime

O-o-only takes a moment to feel alright
Get fresh at the weekend, showin’ out, showin’ out
Get fresh at the weekend, showin’ out
Get fresh at the weekend, showin’ out, showin’ out, showin’ out
Get fresh at the weekend, showin’ out

Showin’ out, I’m showin’ out
Showin’ out, I’m showin’ out