A Nostalgic Journey Through the Tracks of My Years
Author: Alyson
Whenever I hear an old song on the radio, I am immediately transported back to those days. I know I'm not alone here and want to record those memories for myself and for the people in them. 60 years ago the song "Alfie" was written by my favourite songwriting team, Bacharach and David. The opening line to that song was, "What's it all about?" and I'm hoping by writing this blog, I might find the answer to that question.
I was saddened to hear of the death Chris Rea just before Christmas. He was just 74 but once you read about the various ailments he had suffered over the years it seems he did well to live that long. In 1995 he got peritonitis and nearly died. Pancreatic cancer came along in 2001 which led to diabetes, and then he had a stroke in 2016. Some people are very unlucky when it comes to health issues whereas others, against all the odds, seem to live a very long and charmed life (I’m looking at some octogenarian band members here).
Most of us know that Chris was a Middlesbrough lad, and his accent confirmed that, but I have just found out that his father was an Italian who had come over to Britain and set up an ice-cream factory. The unusual surname, ending in a vowel, should have given a clue but in the world of music you don’t question such things. Chris apparently started dating his wife Joan when he was just 17 so they were together a very long time – she will be bereft.
Chris Rea blended blues, pop, soul and soft rock and made 25 studio albums, featuring chart hits which included The Road to Hell, Driving Home for Christmas, and tracks such as On the Beach and Josephine that earned popularity in the Balearic dance scene.
The one I’m going to share however is On The Beach from 1986. I had a particularly nice summer that year as I went with the flatmates of the time to Zakynthos in Greece for my first ever all-girls holiday. Two of those flatmates I am going to have a Zoom call with tonight as we have a weekend away to plan. Since the kids have grown up and people have started to retire there is much more time for such adventures, and other than my biological family and the family I created with Mr WIAA, it’s the only other family I’ve ever been part of, the urban family we had for nine years in the Aberdeen of the ’70s and ’80s. Not sure if we’ll be planning a weekend in Zakynthos however.
On The Beach by Chris Rea:
But my beach holiday is not necessarily why I chose to feature this lovely song. I’m going to bore regular readers with a story that I know I’ve mentioned before, but worth retelling I think. One of the flatmates I went on that holiday with ended up moving south in 1987, the same year I moved north to the Highlands (yes, our little urban family had broken up). After moving around a bit over the years she ended up in a lovely house in Berkshire, which had been a gardener’s cottage, but not like any gardener’s cottage I’ve seen. She was too late but it was next door to the house Chris Rea used to own and from which he had recorded the song about the “road to hell” (driving home to Berkshire from London). His recording studio in the garden had shared a party wall with the home office my friend set up there and I often wondered when we went to visit whether On The Beach had actually been made there.
One more story before I go, Chris Rea also had himself a nice summer in 1986 as On the Beach was inspired by a trip to the Spanish island of Formentera off the coast of Ibiza. Chris is quoted as saying, ‘That’s where me and my wife, became me and my wife. That’s what it’s about. Yeah, I was ‘between the eyes of love.’ It’s a lovely island’. In the summer of 1986 I had just come out of a very long relationship which obviously wasn’t going anywhere and is why I was having my first “girls holiday”. We all had a little holiday romance which was exciting indeed but upon my return, looking all tanned and dressed in summery clothes, I met a chap in a local nightspot and instantly fell in love! He worked for a local oil company which was the norm back in the Aberdeen of the 1980s but we spent the next six weeks practically joined at the hip and one of the first things he did was give me the On The Beach album, which I still have. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was, as we just seemed to click so perfectly.
But these chaps who worked for oil companies were slippery characters and as the weeks went by I started to question him about his past and like me he’d had a long-term relationship, but unlike me, he was still in it! I was devastated and felt such a fool. I was out of practice with the rules of dating and had only ever gone out with people whose past I was fully aware of. I had given my ex an ultimatum and accepted that the relationship had to end. My new chap had also been given an ultimatum but was weak, and had a new job lined up in our Scottish capital so they could finally get married (against his will so he said?!). I still believe we had something special that On The Beach summer, and we did speak on the phone a few times after he moved away, but who knows, maybe I was just a massive Fool who was tricked into thinking that. I’ll never know the answer, but I do know he didn’t stay married for long, which is not surprising.
One more song before I go. The version of On The Beach I shared above was the one released as a single, however the original version from the album was a much slower, more contemplative affair. It seems most people now prefer the original, but in case you want to compare and contrast for yourself, here is a clip.
Until next time, RIP Chris Rea, and remember to watch out for slippery characters who work for oil companies.
On The Beach Lyrics (Song by Chris Rea)
Between the eyes of love I call your name Behind the guarded walls I used to go Upon a summer wind there’s a certain melody Takes me back to the place that I know Down on the beach
The secrets of the summer I will keep The sands of time will blow a mystery No-one but you and I Underneath that moonlit sky Take me back to the place that I know On the beach
Forever in my dreams my heart will be Hanging on to this sweet memory A day of strange desire And a night that burned like fire Take me back to the place that I know On the beach
I’ve left this until the last minute, but like last year on this day, I wanted to share my favourite things of 2025 before we cross that imaginary line that takes us into “next year”.
Music
I really should start with music as this is supposedly a music blog, although it definitely veers into other territory most of the time. This is the first year that I’ve not shared my thoughts about the Brit Awards that took place back in March. This is when I find out about all those artists that may have slipped under my radar, and if I have heard of them, it means I can put a face to the name.
Charlie XCX and Sabrina Carpenter
As usual there were some stunning performances on the night, although not from this year’s big winner, Charli XCX, as she apparently wanted to enjoy the show rather than feel the pressure of having to perform. Personally I just don’t get her kind of music but I don’t think she’s really targeting my demographic. An artist who did perform on the night, Sabrina Carpenter, seems to target young girls which I find quite frightening. She looks like an ’80s Page 3 girl, always seeming to dress in her underwear, and her poppy hits are instantly forgettable. I did enjoy American, Teddy Swims, who sounded a bit like Rag ‘N’ Bone Man and also Ezra Collective who performed a collaboration with Jorja Smith. There’s always a party going on when Ezra are on stage and they won the award for Best British Group of the year. They certainly justified their win with their performance at Glastonbury, later in the year.
When it came to the award for Best International Artist, that statuette went to Chappell Roan, who was my favourite new discovery of the year. I’ve not yet done a deep dive into her material but this song, although heavily played on the radio, stuck with me. Pink Pony Club is a story song that was written in 2019 but became a hit in 2024-2025. Roan’s debut album, The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess, released in 2023, was met with widespread acclaim and praised by music critics for its “bold and emotionally charged nature”. I think she’ll be around for some time.
Film
Right at the start of this year I wrote about the Robbie Williams biopic and said it could well turn out to be my favourite film of the year. 12 months on it turns out I was right. I’m not generally a fan of biopics as we usually know the star’s life story already and why watch an actor sing and dance their way through the film when we can still watch plenty of footage of them via other means. Also, it’s often a highly edited version of the star’s life and only from the age of adulthood. All that was turned on its head in Better Man as Robbie was played by a CGI chimp. It sounds ridiculous but you get used to it incredibly quickly and the 8-year-old Robbie/chimp is very, very cute. The story takes us up to Robbie’s concert at the Royal Albert Hall around the time of his Swing While Your Winning album and despite the fact he has had to face his many demons along the way (the messy side of addition is not shied away from), at this point in his career he has made peace with himself and those closest to him. If you haven’t seen it yet, give it a try, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.
My other favourite films of this year are as follows:
A Complete Unknown (the Bob Dylan biopic – written about here) Conclave (life imitates art – a BAFTA winner about the machinations that surround the choosing of a new Pope) Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery (the third film in the murder/mystery series – currently on Netflix)
Books
Since instigating “Reading Hour” in our house at the start of 2024, I’ve read more books than I usually would in a year (I would thoroughly recommend it if you can find that elusive hour). My favourites of 2025 are as follows:
Butter – Asako Yuzuki (set in Tokyo, you learn a lot about Japanese culture)
The Writing On The Wall – Jenny Eclair (a 16-year-old girl of today magically finds herself in her own bedroom, in her own house, but in 1976 – I was 16 in 1976 so I loved the descriptions of the differences between girls then and now)
Here One Moment – Liane Moriarty (set in Australia it flips back and forth in time telling the story of the protagonist’s life, solving a puzzle as we go)
Cher: The Memoir Part 1 – Cher and others (I got this one free on my Kindle and although at first it felt like a lot of Cher anecdotes rolled into one, I became fascinated by her life story – we’ve only got to 1980 when she returned to acting, so I eagerly await Part 2)
Television
As ever, especially since Covid, a lot of telly-watching has been done in the living room of WIAA Towers this year. We have our favourite sofa spots to watch telly from and I fear the day will come when we morph into Maris Pipers. My Top 10 dramas of the year are as follows (Top 5 in bold):
SAS Rogue Heroes; Miss Austen; Toxic Town; Adolescence; This City Is Ours; The Bombing Of Pan Am 103; Blue Lights; Riot Women; Trigger Point; Shetland.
I am fully aware there have been other exceptional dramas on streaming channels we don’t subscribe to, but hey, we can’t have them all. We’ll catch them at some point no doubt. The drama that caused the biggest furore this year was Adolescence which was a remarkable piece of television where each of its episodes was shot in one continuous take. The story centres on 13-year-old schoolboy, Jamie Miller played by Owen Cooper, who is arrested after the murder of a girl in his school. Investigations at Jamie’s school and interviews by a forensic psychologist uncover Jamie’s views towards women associated with the “manosphere”, and the mockery he has received via social media. His poor family have to cope with the backlash from the community and work together to cope with the situation. It certainly was an eye-opener into the world of contemporary teens and I ended up watching it three times.
A shout out too for Shetland which until recently, I thought only went out in Scotland. It’s been going for a long time now, and has had a change of personnel, but I still think it’s one of the best crime dramas on telly. The last series finished recently and release was limited to one episode per week (like the old days). I was kind of excited all day ahead of the final episode airing and it certainly didn’t disappoint.
I’ve never been to Shetland but my friend’s husband covers the Northern Isles as part of his job, so she’s gone up with him twice recently on the ferry from Aberdeen to visit all the locations featured in the show. The Police Station is apparently a Council building but Jimmy Perez’s old house (in the water) is easily identifiable.
Sport
A new category for the review, but there were some fantastic sporting achievements this year, which if you’re a fan, would have given you a real high.
I’ll work backwards, but if you watched the Scotland v Denmark football match that took us through to next year’s World Cup in North America, it would have had you jumping in the air with joy. It’s 28 years since we’ve been at the World Cup finals and a generation of young men and women will experience it for the first time. It was tense for a long time when the match could have gone either way, but with two goals scored right at the end in injury time, the win was decisive and the Tartan Army will be looking out their kilts in readiness. No Scotland, No Party!
Earlier in the year, the England Women’s Football Team won the Euros after a nail-biting penalty shoot-out. And, the England Women’s Rugby Team won the World Cup. They’re definitely both showing the boys how things should be done.
Finally in this section, I’ll have to mention that back in April, Rory McIlroy won the Masters golf tournament in Atlanta. We were actually having a reunion that weekend with my two ex-flatmates and their husbands, who both play golf, so after our dinner we had to retreat to the bar at the back of our hotel in Pitlochry to watch the final round live. Mr WIAA definitely doesn’t play golf, not do I, but of course we did know of Rory’s prowess on the fairway so enjoyed watching the drama unfold. Rory did win after a play-off, which really was a big deal, as it means he is: one of only six players to have won all four big tournaments; the only European; and the first person to do so since since Tiger Woods in 2000.
Theatre/Concerts
I wrote recently about my trip to London to see ABBA Voyage (link here) so I won’t go there again. I’ve not actually been to our local theatre that often this year which is unusual for me but I did really enjoy the NTL showing of Dr Strangelove starring Steve Coogan. I don’t know quite how he did it but he managed to play four characters. The play is based on the 1964 film of the same name by Stanley Kubrick, adapted for the stage by Armando Iannucci and Sean Foley. Well worth a watch.
So there we have it, my review of the year in terms of what I’ve watched, read and listened to. Hopefully I’ve given you some recommendations.
At the end of last year I wrote that I was sad to see it end, as it had been such a good one. To be honest, I kind of feel that way again which is a bit of a worry as I don’t know how long my luck will hold out. We have a new puppy in the family who is a joy, I still love volunteering at the charity shop, I’ve had lots of reunions with friends and family, and my garden has looked spectacular (my top hobby this last summer). We have lost my mum, but as anyone who has had a relative with Alzheimer’s knows, it can become a blessing when they pass. A horrible, horrible disease.
I’ve just managed to get this one finished before I have my Hogmanay drink. A cocktail made by Mr WIAA. Happy New Year when it comes!
Until next time…
Pink Pony Club Lyrics (Song by Daniel Nigro/Kayleigh Rose Amstutz)
I know you wanted me to stay But I can’t ignore the crazy visions of me in LA And I heard that there’s a special place Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day
I’m having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee Hear Santa Monica, I swear it’s calling me Won’t make my mama proud, it’s gonna cause a scene She sees her baby girl, I know she’s gonna scream
God, what have you done? You’re a pink pony girl And you dance at the club Oh mama, I’m just having fun On the stage in my heels It’s where I belong down at the
Pink Pony Club I’m gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club I’m gonna keep on dancing down in West Hollywood I’m gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club
I’m up and jaws are on the floor Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door Blacklights and a mirrored disco ball Every night’s another reason why I left it all
I thank my wicked dreams a year from Tennessee Oh, Santa Monica, you’ve been too good to me Won’t make my mama proud, it’s gonna cause a scene She sees her baby girl, I know she’s gonna scream
God, what have you done? You’re a pink pony girl And you dance at the club Oh mama, I’m just having fun On the stage in my heels It’s where I belong down at the
Pink Pony Club I’m gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club I’m gonna keep on dancing down in West Hollywood I’m gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club
Don’t think I’ve left you all behind Still love you and Tennessee You’re always on my mind And mama, every Saturday I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying
God, what have you done? You’re a pink pony girl And you dance at the club Oh mama, I’m just having fun On the stage in my heels It’s where I belong down at the
Pink Pony Club I’m gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club I’m gonna keep on dancing down in West Hollywood I’m gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club
I’m gonna keep on dancing I’m gonna keep on dancing
Hope everyone had a good Christmas and were given some lovely presents. Here is our little collection sitting under the tree. There was a tense moment however on Christmas morning, which looked as if it might lead to an “Emma Thompson moment” for me. In case you’ve never watched the much loved Richard Curtis movie Love Actually, Emma Thompson’s character who is married to Harry, had accidentally found a square-shaped box containing a beautiful gold necklace in his coat pocket, which she fully expects to be given as a surprise Christmas present. Come the hour, she opens this “surprise” gift with expectant glee, only to discover that it’s a Joni Mitchell CD boxset, a great present as she’s a big fan, but in that split second she realises that the gold necklace was for someone else, and she has to quickly extricate herself from the room. An emotional scene then takes place where she has to pull herself together before re-emerging to join the family.
Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell:
I think this emotional scene has traumatised women of a certain age and we all dread getting that metaphorical boxset one day. This year I thought it had happened to me and this is why. Because I keep a tight control on the finances around WIAA Towers, and because we have a shared bank account and credit card, we tend not to be able to give each other surprise presents, but that’s fine by me – I’d rather be solvent than have a diamond ring. We choose our own presents from each other, then wrap them and put them under the tree. This year, just before Christmas Day, I had printed off the latest credit card statement to check all was shipshape only to find a purchase from a local jeweller right at the bottom. I usually question Mr WIAA about any entries that can’t be explained but this time I let it slide as I thought he might, for the first time ever, be surprising me with a piece of jewellery.
And so it came to Christmas morning and as it was just the two of us we had a cup of tea first, and then leisurely started opening the presents under the tree. I had some from friends so opened them first but then I spotted something new, a rectangular box from “Santa”, that hadn’t been there the night before. Aha I thought, the surprise piece of jewellery. I ripped off the paper only to find some toiletries in nice Christmas packaging. My heart sank so I had to question Mr WIAA about the mysterious purchase on the credit card as I didn’t want to be like Emma and have to extricate myself from the room to listen to sad Joni Mitchell songs. It was at this point he reached for a smaller box hiding behind a bottle bag, also from “Santa”. I had kind of spoiled the surprise but it was indeed a box containing the beautiful heart-shaped earrings I’d casually admired when out shopping the previous weekend. He had apparently felt guilty as he’d had quite a few expensive items of sportswear and equipment this year whereas I had just chosen my perennial favourites, a few books, some pyjamas and some eats.
So, “What’s It All About?” – To all those middle-aged women who are now deeply suspicious of a surprise present from their partners because of that particular scene in Love Actually, try not to be. I spoilt my surprise which should have turned out better than it did. Of course it wouldn’t have been spoilt if we didn’t share bank accounts but I’m not quite ready to surrender control, yet. Maybe by next Christmas?
The song Both Sides Now featured in Love Actually was from Joni’s album of the same name, released in the year 2000, featuring the plaintive sounds of a more mature woman.
Until next time…
Both Sides Now Lyrics (Song by Joni Mitchell)
Rows and flows of angel hair And ice cream castles in the air And feather canyons everywhere, I’ve looked at clouds that way.
But now they only block the sun, They rain and they snow on everyone So many things I would have done, But clouds got in my way.
I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now From up and down and still somehow It’s cloud illusions I recall I really don’t know clouds at all
Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels, The dizzy dancing way that you feel As every fairy tale comes real, I’ve looked at love that way.
But now it’s just another show, You leave ’em laughing when you go And if you care, don’t let them know, Don’t give yourself away.
I’ve looked at love from both sides now From give and take and still somehow It’s love’s illusions I recall I really don’t know love at all
Tears and fears and feeling proud, To say “I love you” right out loud Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I’ve looked at life that way.
Oh but now old friends they’re acting strange, They shake their heads, they say I’ve changed Well something’s lost, but something’s gained In living every day.
I’ve looked at life from both sides now From win and lose and still somehow It’s life’s illusions I recall I really don’t know life at all
I’ve looked at life from both sides now From up and down, and still somehow It’s life’s illusions I recall I really don’t know life at all
It’s life’s illusions I recall I really don’t know life I really don’t know life at all
This is my 10th Christmas as a blogger, and boy, how things have changed in those 10 years. Regular followers around here will perhaps know what I am talking about, and I expect most people’s lives will have similarly changed, but to sum up my own situation here are how things were back in 2016. As well as dealing with all the admin attached to Mr WIAA’s business, I was still turning up at work every day to a traditional office where we still used paper, pens and folders. I had work colleagues I sat next to and we had Christmas lunches and nights out. I also however had to look after my mum who lived in a retirement flat nearby, and had an adult DD back living with us after a period of independence. I felt like the squeezed filling in a sandwich. How on earth did I find the time to take up this new hobby called blogging?
The Sandwich Generation: 2016
The first big change happened in 2017 after the walls came down (literally) at my workplace, and the adoption of LEAN working (working from home, hotdesking and no paper at all). I didn’t last long, and threw in the towel later on that year. Time to try new things I thought. That plan however was severely tested as my mum’s health deteriorated and she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in early 2018. After struggling on myself for nearly a year, we eventually found a lovely care home for her and she was there for over seven years, only passing away last month. As for DD, she met Mr Right in 2017, moved in with him in 2018 and got married in 2023. They are now happily ensconced in their new house with Alfie the puppy. Strangely enough, despite having more time on my hands now, my blogging output has very much diminished over the years, but what can I say, that first year I was a very keen blogger!
Empty Nesters: 2025
But this time I’m going to look back at a Christmas from much longer ago, 50 years ago, as the 1970s seems to be the decade I return to time and time again around here – the decade when I listened to and consumed the most music. Also I spotted this meme on social media recently and fully agreed with the sentiment (where did all those years go?).
How I feel all the time!
All the mainstream artists of the day released a seasonal ditty back in the ’70s and ironically they are songs we still hear on the radio and on compilations today. Why is this? Well we did consume our music in a very different way back in the ’70s, with whole families sitting down to watch Top of the Pops every week – a few slots on TOTP pretty much guaranteed you the coveted Christmas No. 1 position, and boy must those royalties still be rolling in for Slade and Wizzard, who between them assumed blanket coverage of December 1973’s airwaves with bothMerry Xmas Everybody and I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday.
By Christmas 1975, an artist I had not really taken much heed of until that point, released a very satisfying seasonal record called I Believe In Father Christmas. His name was Greg Lake, first of King Crimson and then of Emerson, Lake and Palmer. Sadly, Greg was yet another casualty of 2016, my first year of blogging and the year when so many music legends passed away (George Michael, David Bowie, Prince…).
I Believe In Father Christmas by Greg Lake:
Greg wrote this song as an objection to the commercialisation of Christmas which in the intervening 50 years just seems to have got worse. Back in 1975 it reached No 2. in the UK Singles Chart but unlike some other Christmas songs from that era I feel it has stood the test of time. Something that I wouldn’t have known then was that the instrumental section between verses comes from a Suite by Prokofiev. If I had been a prog rock fan back then this might have made sense, but being a teenage girl I really wasn’t. Those of us who had older brothers were a bit more au fait with artists such as Emerson, Lake and Palmer who were attached to that sub-genre, but I didn’t, so was far more interested in my teen idols at that time, who often went by the name of David.
Thinking back to Christmas 1975, this song coincided with a very busy time for me education-wise as it would have been the year I sat my important Scottish “O Grade” Prelims (all 8 of them) in the build up to the holidays. Listening to a bit of festive music on our little kitchen transistor radio, whilst having breakfast before yet another big exam, would probably have been a bit of a tonic that set me up for the day. Also, thinking back, the ’70s were a bit of a grim time in Britain, so maybe the public took to buying seasonal tunes in their millions to make life just that little bit cheerier. Other big-selling records from that time were by Mud, Johnny Mathis, Paul McCartney, Mike Oldfield, Boney M and even The Wombles.
Sadly, very few contemporary artists have released anything recently that I think will be remembered in 50 years time. Even this year’s festive No. 1 by Kylie, called Xmas, has very little going for it and it seems she is bargaining on inspiring a new dance craze with the four letter title, like the YMCA boys did with their song. I have my doubts.
The Christmas flowers from DD’s in-laws that arrived when I was writing this!
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it from all of us here at WIAA Towers – only myself and Mr WIAA now, but we will be seeing DD and Mr DD on Christmas Eve (they want to spend the big day on their own this year as “it was just so stressful hosting last year” – wish I’d tried that one back in the day!). Have a good one.
Until next time…
I Believe In Father Christmas Lyrics (Song by Greg Lake/Peter Sinfield)
They said there’ll be snow at Christmas They said there’ll be peace on Earth But instead it just kept on raining A veil of tears for the Virgin birth I remember one Christmas morning A winters light and a distant choir And the peal of a bell and that Christmas Tree smell And their eyes full of tinsel and fire
They sold me a dream of Christmas They sold me a Silent Night And they told me a fairy story ‘Till I believed in the Israelite And I believed in Father Christmas And I looked TO the sky with excited eyes ‘Till I woke with a yawn in the first light of dawn And I saw him and through his disguise
I wish you a hopeful Christmas I wish you a brave New Year All anguish pain and sadness Leave your heart and let your road be clear They said there’ll be snow at Christmas They said there’ll be peace on Earth Hallelujah Noel be it Heaven or Hell The Christmas we get we deserve
I feel under pressure. My objective was to have pressed the publish button on 500 posts before this blog reaches its 10th birthday at the beginning of January, but I am now way behind schedule with seven still to write. As regular followers will know, there is a good reason for that, but as I still plan to reach my goal, I’d better get a wiggle on. Time for a web-diary type post.
It’s only 12 days ’til Christmas but I’ve not started thinking about it yet so no festive songs this time. Instead I’ll write about the other big things that have being going on around here over the last three weeks, starting with the trip to London we were advised to still go ahead with despite my mum’s passing. It had been planned for ages and it would be a while until her funeral service so it was a nice respite.
Just about every one of my friends had already seen the ABBA VOYAGE show in their purpose built arena in Stratford, but one who hadn’t, asked me a while back if I wanted to go. Then it turned out her husband wanted to join us so Mr WIAA decided to come too. This was the same couple who came to Eurovision with us 10 years ago, when we dressed up as Bucks Fizz, but this time we decided the outfits were just a little too outlandish (especially the mens’) for people of our vintage so I left my bright blue knickerbockers at home!
The hologrammed ABBA on stage!
As for the show, it certainly was an experience. You are in awe of the technology that allows them to be there on stage…, without them actually being there on stage, and the big wraparound screens showing them up close and personal were spectacular. I thought it would feel as if I was back in 1975 again, but I didn’t, as the arena is far more state of the art with fancy light shows than the small theatres I went to see bands in back then, and of course the audience is generally made up of people of a certain age. In the hour and a half running time however, there were only three songs we didn’t know with the rest all being crowd-pleasers, everyone singing along and dancing to the music. Would I go again? Probably not as I’ve done it now, but I’m glad I did.
Money, Money, Money by ABBA:
The ABBA show was on the Sunday night of our three day trip to London which left plenty of time to do other things. We split up with our friends on the Saturday which was fine as I had got in touch with our blogging pal Ernie Goggins of 27 Leggies to ask if would be willing to show us round his ‘hood? He was going to be available and was happy to do so, which led me to sending out a last-minute invitation to C from Sun Dried Sparrows to ask if she would be able to come through from Suffolk. I thought I had left it too late, but hurrah, she was free too, so we planned to meet up at Liverpool Street Station mid morning.
Ernie took his role as guide very seriously and had planned out a route that took in Brick Lane, Spitalfields Market, Graffiti Alley, The Huguenot Quarter, Shoreditch and The Dissenters Cemetery. The weather was a tad inclement but luckily we managed to fit all that in before the rain really started to pour down, after which we headed to the Barbican where Ernie had worked in his youth so he knew all the nooks, crannies and shortcuts! There we found a great photography exhibition featuring the icon that is Debbie Harry, back in her heyday. A great day was had by all and I now feel familiar with a part of London I had never visited before.
As for the rest of the trip we became very familiar with the Westfield Shopping Centre as our hotel was attached to it, but also The Olympic Park, the Docklands Light Railway and Canary Wharf. There, the tall glass towers housing financial institutions skirted the south side of the old East India Dock, but on the north side there was still Warehouse No. 1 and 2, which had been spared in The Blitz and was now a Museum, celebrating how the docks and wharfs of The Isle Of Dogs had at one point been the busiest in the world.
Crikey, my trip to London has fairly used up a lot of my words so I’ll be brief with the other things that have been going on around here of late. Even if you’re not a football fan it would be impossible to miss that we are now building up to the next FIFA World Cup to be held in North America next year. Scottish fans have not been privileged to watch their national side play in that competition for 28 years, but in a spectacular match against Denmark, where we scored two goals in extra time, we suddenly topped our group so are now definitely going to be taking part. For anyone aged 35 years or less, it will be a first-time experience so excitement is running high although I see the cost of tickets, flights and accommodation is going to be prohibitively high for all but the fans with the most Money, Money, Money. A great shame. Such was the spectacular nature of the goals scored in that last match, the merchandisers have been hard at work, and prints of those goals have been selling fast.
The hero of the night was Scott McTominay who seemed to defy the laws of gravity with his goal. Scott is also namechecked often in this song, already shared around here last year for the Euros, No Scotland No Party. It is true that until the Tartan Army arrive at a tournament, the party has not really begun, so I hope a fair number of them have enough money in their bankies to make the big trip across the pond to Boston and Miami.
No Scotland No Party by Nick Morgan:
We had a birthday in the family yesterday. Yes, Alfie the puppy turned one-year-of-age. We look after him a few times a week so despite not having chosen to own a dog ourselves, he is most definitely now shared by all of us. Needless to say he got a fair few presents and DD baked him some “pupcakes”, so he certainly was a pampered pooch.
Alfie in his new ball-pit with his birthday treat-holder!
What’s It All About, Alfie?by Cilla Black:
The final thing I wanted to share is that last week the charity shop I volunteer in moved to new premises in the centre of town. It’s big and shiny, like a “real shop” but maybe not the kind of place octogenarians are going to be able to help out in. An empty unit became available when quite a large chain clothes shop closed down, so those who plan the shop side of fund-raising quickly snapped it up. I think they had forgotten however that charity shops, in order to make money, rely on volunteers of a certain age to run them and even I was pretty tired after a four hour shift, what with a steady stream of customers queued up at the till, stock to price and replenish, shelves to tidy, and trips up two flights of stairs to fetch things. It feels at the moment like hard graft with no time to chat to your fellow volunteers or engage with customers, which was the fun part. The initial flood of business might tail off, but if it does the shop won’t make Money, Money, Money so a bit of a catch-22.
Although I said we no longer have time to engage with the customers, I did manage a quick chat with a 50-something year old chap with a hipster haircut who bought a clutch of singles, all from the 1980s. In fact it could have been a Who’s Who of people who appeared at Live Aid. I love catching people off guard as I don’t think they expect the volunteers to have much knowledge of the records we sell. I still don’t know why he liked the look of these particular singles so much but one of them was this, The Riddle, by Nik Kershaw. I ended up with an earworm that lasted several days, and I still don’t know what it’s all about!
Until next time…
Money, Money, Money Lyrics (Song by Benny Andersson Bjoern Ulvaeus)
I work all night, I work all day To pay the bills I have to pay Ain’t it sad? And still there never seems to be A single penny left for me That’s too bad
In my dreams I have a plan If I got me a wealthy man I wouldn’t have to work at all I’d fool around and have a ball
Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man’s world Money, money, money Always sunny In the rich man’s world
Aha-aha All the things I could do If I had a little money It’s a rich man’s world It’s a rich man’s world
A man like that is hard to find But I can’t get him off my mind Ain’t it sad? And if he happens to be free I bet he wouldn’t fancy me That’s too bad
So I must leave, I’ll have to go To Las Vegas or Monaco And win a fortune in a game My life will never be the same
Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man’s world Money, money, money Always sunny In the rich man’s world
Aha-aha All the things I could do If I had a little money It’s a rich man’s world
Well, a lot has happened since my last post a fortnight ago. The biggest thing being that on Monday we had a funeral service for my mum, which despite being small and intimate, was packed full of all the elements I know she would have approved of, and some she might not – but which went down really well with everyone who attended and watched online. She would have come round I know.
DD’s chosen flower spray
There seems to be a tipping point with age of death, which might be individual to each person, but unlike when someone dies prematurely at far too young an age, there are others whom everyone can agree “had a good innings”, and the funeral service is more a celebration of their life. I think my mum’s service fell into the latter category. Even around here, we seem to be writing tributes all the time for our musical heroes who are passing on at an alarming rate, but there is a totally different tone when it’s for someone like George Michael as opposed to when it’s for Burt Bacharach. I really enjoyed writing Burt’s tribute as I could revisit all those great songs of his I loved listening to growing up, however, I was totally bereft when George died suddenly on Christmas Day 2016, and his heartfelt tribute stretched to four parts.
But back to my mum’s service. It was held at the funeral home as opposed to in a church which is the first thing my mum might have raised an eyebrow at, but the church she had attended in town closed in the years since she went into the care home, so that was no longer an option, and her minister had moved away. Fortunately the minister from our local church was happy to conduct the service (despite the fact we never attend) and so we jointly came up with the Running Order as I called it, although I think it’s supposed to be the Order Of Service.
Although last time I included some of my mum’s favourite artists and music, I took a different tack for her funeral service and the song that accompanied her coffin entering the room was this one, My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose by our National Bard, Rabbie Burns. My mum would never have thought of herself as anything but a Scot, not for any other reason than that was just what she was. It seemed apt therefore to have this sweet Burns song commence proceedings. In the video clip below the singer Karen Matheson is introduced by Mr WIAA’s old art teacher, Donnie Munro, of popular Scottish band Runrig. The audio clip is by Margaret Donaldson and was the one used for the service.
My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose by Margaret Donaldson:
My luve’s like a red, red rose, That’s newly sprung in June: O my luve’s like the melodie That’s sweetly play’d in tune.
Having just read up about Burns and the song, it seems he was more the “compiler” of A Red, Red Rose rather than its author. He could take childish/unsophisticated sources and turn them into magic. Many composers have set Burns’ lyric to music, but it gained worldwide popularity set to the traditional tune Low Down in the Broom. In the final years of his life, Burns worked extensively on traditional Scottish songs, ensuring the preservation of over 300, including, thankfully for Scots the world over on Hogmanay, Auld Lang Syne.
The service then went on to contain a hymn, a couple of readings from the bible and a prayer which is what my mum would have expected, and would have appealed to the many old friends and relatives who were watching from abroad and from our village in Aberdeenshire. When it came to the eulogy I was not prepared to leave it in the hands of a minister who didn’t know my mum, so I elected to write it myself. All this blogging for ten years should surely help with that I thought, and it did. I was advised that 1000 words would take 10 minutes but after testing that theory we found you get 1400 words into 10 minutes so I used every one of them wisely, telling the story of her life (the detail of which people were amazed I could remember) and throwing in a fair few humorous stories along the way. I was very pleased with how it turned out. After setting the scene with the eulogy we watched a slide show of 40 photos, chronologically recording my mum’s life (easy for me to put together as I have generations of family photos in my loft). Sadly the slide show hit technical difficulties at slide two so we missed the three photos below but luckily it righted itself fairly quickly.
Photos of my mum as a youngster from the chronological slide show of her life
The song I chose to accompany the slide show was again, very apt for my mum, and although I think she would have been a bit shocked by its inclusion, it was the element that everyone commented upon afterwards. It was Jimmy Unknown by Doris Day. My dad was called Jimmy and was present in more than half of the photos we shared so it was just perfect. Although I had been trial-running it for a week, poor DD was not prepared, and seeing photos of herself with granny and grandad definitely tipped her over the edge.
Over the mountain, over the sea Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me
Jimmy Unknown by Doris Day:
After the slide show we had another reading and prayer followed by the final hymn – something we all knew how to sing. In today’s more secular society we are just not familiar with the hymns and prayers the previous generations grew up with, which can make it awkward when trying to sing along to the music at a funeral or wedding. It suddenly goes up when you think it’s going to go down (Mr WIAA’s pet hate), or vice-versa.
The music I chose for the committal, when the curtains are pulled shut to hide the coffin, was the same piece of music I chose for my dad’s funeral 22 years ago, Highland Cathedral. It just made sense to bring them together like that. As I said above, my mum and dad always saw themselves as Scottish and after I moved to The Highlands, they became very familiar with my neck of the woods. It’s hard to find a version that isn’t too rousing played by a massed pipe band, but I thought this version found a balance. The photo is one of the cathedral in the centre of our town.
Highland Cathedral by The Band of Her Majesty’s Royal Marines Scotland:
There were only 25 of us at the service, 10 family/extended family members and 15 of my friends and neighbours who knew her. I know that quite a few watched from the village and they got in touch to tell me what a lovely service it was which was a relief. My cousin in Perth, Australia, watched at 10.30pm however my cousin in Melbourne had to wait until we had a recording of it, as it would have been 1.30am for him.
Afterwards we went to the hotel recommended by the undertaker who helped me organise things, for the “funeral tea” (although I later discovered they also own that hotel – makes sense!). Fortunately most people came and I had a lovely chat with my best friend from Primary School who had also worked with my mum at the village Health Centre. The biggest difference between us now is that most older people from rural Aberdeenshire still speak in the native Doric, whereas I lost that over 40 years ago. Two cousins came whom I don’t see nearly enough of, so plans have been made for the coming year. I also had to thank all those friends who came for support as they knew we had such a tiny family.
So, “What’s It All About?” – My mum was 90 when she passed away and despite having Alzheimer’s at the end, I think we could all agree she had a good life. My dad passed away too soon which made his funeral a really sad affair but I’d like to think my mum’s truly was a celebration of her life (although apologies to DD for making her very emotional). Life will be a bit different now with no more visits to the care home, but despite all my worries at the outset, she was well looked-after there right to the end.
Until next time…
Jimmy Unknown Lyrics (Song by Ruth Roberts/Bill Katz)
Who will be my Jimmy Unknown? Someone to love me and call me his own Over the mountain Over the sea Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me
Will he be handsome? Will he be strong? Lifting my heart like a beautiful song Over the mountain Over the sea Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me
The day I surrendered My lips to his charms My secret of love Will be lost in his arms
Who will be my Jimmy Unknown? Someone who never would leave me alone Over the mountain Over the sea Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me
My mum hasn’t featured around here for some time but over the years she has been mentioned on many occasions, first as someone who enjoyed reading my latest blog post when I went to visit her in her retirement flat, and then as someone who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease and had to move into a care home. Come Christmastime I always shared some seasonal music for all the generations of my family and my mum invariably got something from the Jim Reeves 12 Songs Of Christmas album. She did like her Jim Reeves.
Sadly, she passed away on Sunday, but thankfully it was quite quick in the end. I’d gone to visit her the day before and realised she was failing, but I was reassured it could take some time. I got a phone call at 6am the following morning to say I should come in to the care home but didn’t quite make it in time. That’s on me, but to be honest I don’t really want to remember her as she was over the last year of her life as it all became a bit grim latterly. I’m not sure who Alzheimer was, but he would have done well to keep his pesky disease to himself.
Looking through photos of her from over the years, I realise I’ve shared quite a few around here, those lovely black and white ones that look so much classier than the high resolution colour shots we now take on our camera phones. I will use some of them for the funeral. I did find something else however from not that long ago, a clip I want to share with you, to give you a sense of the lady. She did like her music, had natural rhythm and loved to dance. Whenever the accordionist came in to the care home she acted as his wingman, getting everyone enthused and choosing the repertoire. I have to smile when I see this.
My mum in better times
As you can imagine I’ve been really busy over the last few days with the admin of death but her funeral service is coming together nicely and I’m quite happy with what we’ve organised so far. I suspected it would be a really small intimate affair but I see the undertaker shared her announcement on his social media page today, as is the custom, and there has been an outpouring of affection for her from all sorts of people I have never heard of – from shopworkers, from cleaners in her flats, from people who met her walking into town and of course from the many care workers in her nursing home. I might have to hire a bigger boat!
I don’t think I can write much more to be honest as I have loads to do and a weekend away to prepare for. Yes, my London trip had been booked for ages and now that we are organised for the funeral in 12 days time, we can allow ourselves some down time. I think I am even going to meet up with some people from my little blogging community whilst in London, which is a bonus, so watch this space.
I shall leave you with some of those black and white photos I mentioned above and one of my mum’s favourite pieces of music, Stranger On The Shore by Acker Bilk.
I’m going to blame Rol from My Top Ten for my lack of posting something new for a while. I’ve been busy as I am now part of the Cancel Culture Club over at his place, where we debate whether songs from the past should be seen in a rather different light in these modern, progressive times. Should they be “cancelled” or do they still have merit despite their old-fashioned attitudes?
It’s been a really interesting series to be a part of, so I would recommend you hop over and spend some time reading the responses. So far we’ve been broadly in agreement about the songs in question: Young Girl, Turning Japanese and Girls, but I think with the next song on his list, it could be a lot harder to find consensus. Watch his space.
Rol’s other popular feature is Saturday Snapshots, where we have to work out from the photo and clue who each artist is and then find a link between one of each of their songs. We are now up to #420, so as you can imagine it’s been going for many years and a great reason to get up early on a Saturday morning and give the old grey matter a workout.
Those of us who join in however do feel guilty about poor Rol having to do all the legwork on Snapshots (although he has had some help of late in the form of guest posts). I have racked my brain over the years to think of a puzzle I could host but my ideas always seem lame and unworkable. I do however like saving things I like the look of on social media that relate to music, and at a push they could make for a bit of a puzzle.
As regular visitors to this place know I am fond of a spreadsheet and can’t imagine my life without them. I spotted something recently relating to songs that was in the form of a spreadsheet, but I then lost it again before I could save the picture. No matter I thought, I could remember how it went so I would create my own. The cells do end up quite small, so you’re going to have to blow up the image, but can you work out what all five songs are and who they are by? Each line represents a different one and you should be able to work out what it is by noting what the singer did on each day of the week. It’s very easy so don’t look at the comments boxes until you’ve got them all.
What I would most like from you guys however are more entries for my spreadsheet – there must be many out there that have lyrics relating to days of the week. If you have any, let me know via the Contact Me link. I can then add them to my sheet and share it again. Thanks in advance for your help.
The other picture I saw recently was this one of New Wave stars of the 1980s. I recognised most of them but not all so let’s see how you get on. At the moment I’m stuck with the chap at the far right of the top row and the two girls at the extreme left and right of the bottom row – can anyone help? I’m sure between us we can identify them all. Once we do have them all (if I’m lucky enough to get enough visitors to help) I’ll do a row by row spreadsheet with their names. Of course you will I hear you say!
As I’ve shared Rol’s photo of Debbie Harry, I’ll end with a song from Blondie, hopefully a politically correct one (although I’m starting to notice that I often missed the metaphors and euphemisms in songs when I was young – so naïve). Here is The Tide Is High from 1980, a song not written by the band but originally recorded by a Jamaican vocal group called The Paragons. But is Debbie in the picture above – I think she is but I don’t think it’s a very good likeness. What do you think?
The Tide Is High by Blondie:
Until next time…
The Tide Is High Lyrics (Song by John Holt)
The tide is high but I’m holding on I’m gonna be your number one I’m not the kind of girl Who gives up just like that Oh, no
It’s not the things you do That tease and hurt me bad But it’s the way you do The things you do to me I’m not the kind of girl Who gives up just like that Oh, no
The tide is high but I’m holding on I’m gonna be your number one the tide is high but I’m holding on I’m gonna be your number one Number one, my number one number one
Every girl wants you to be her man But I’ll wait right here ’till it’s my turn I’m not the kind of girl Who gives up just like that Oh, no
The tide is high but I’m holding on I’m gonna be your number one The tide is high but im holding on I’m gonna be your number one Number one, my number one number one
Every time that I get the feeling you give me something to believe in every time that I got you near me I know the way that I want it to be but you know I’m gonna take chance now I’m gonna make it happen somehow and you know I can take the pressure a moment to pay for a lifetime pleasure
Every girl wants you to be her man But I’ll wait right here ’til it’s my turn I’m not the kind of girl Who gives up just like that Oh, no
The tide is high but I’m holding on I’m gonna be your number one The tide is high, but I’m holding on I’m gonna be your number one
Postscript:
As my puzzles have been up for a week now, I think it’s time to offer up the solutions.
Spreadsheet of Songs Answers Row 1 – Friday I’m In Love by The Cure Row 2 – 7 Days by Craig David Row 3 – Everyday Is Like Sunday by Morrissey Row 4 – Eight Days A Week by the Beatles Row 5 – Manic Monday by the Bangles
My jury duty is now over, so back to my routine of posting something new weekly. Little did I think last time, that I would be writing a tribute for one of my favourite actresses of all time, Diane Keaton. With Robert Redford I didn’t really get a shock when I heard of his death, but with Diane Keaton I most certainly did. First of all I hadn’t realised she was as old as she was (79 when she died), as we have kind of grown up together with her film roles often reflecting what my life was like at the time. Also, although she did have more lines on her face as the years went by (as do I), she always seemed to be smiling which gave her a really youthful appearance.
The first film you think of when reflecting on Diane Keaton’s legacy is Annie Hall, the film made in 1977 that was written specifically for her, and in which she starred with Woody Allen. Diane had frequently collaborated with Woody prior to this and had also played Kay Adams in the Godfather films, but I don’t think I had actually seen them at this point so Annie Hall was my first introduction to her, and what an impact she made.
I had gone to see the film in Aberdeen’s Capitol Theatre one Saturday afternoon in 1978 with my best friend of the time. We had recently left school for University, and as we now lived in the big city, we were able to enjoy all that it had to offer. After watching Diane Keaton in Annie Hall we trawled the very few charity and vintage shops that were available at the time, and kitted ourselves out in baggy trousers, shirts and waistcoats. Such apparel would have looked ridiculous in rural Aberdeenshire but now that we were students it fitted our new personas perfectly. Also, despite looking outwardly quite quirky and different, if an older student or lecturer had entered into conversation with me, I would have become a gibbering wreck, not having yet acquired the confidence needed for such encounters. Inside, I was still that girl from a country school. Like Annie, I would have probably gone down the La-di-da, La-di-da route before making an embarrassing exit.
After watching the clip above last Sunday I kept having the song line, “La-di-da-di-da”, swirling around in my head. I couldn’t remember for a start what the song was, and it certainly wasn’t from the film, but it didn’t take long to work out it was Why, a song from 1982 written by Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards and performed by Carly Simon.
But back to Diane Keaton. Throughout the rest of the 70s, the 80s and beyond she appeared in many, many films, some with Woody Allen, but as time went by, mostly not. She could tackle the serious roles (Reds) just as easily as the romantic comedy ones (Baby Boom), and I loved her in everything she did. In terms of her style, the clothes had changed in the films she made, as did my style as serious jobs and motherhood had entered my life. And this is when a really special moment happened in my life. In around 2010, DD’s good friend Jamie who was a frequent visitor to our house, sent her a film clip with this message: “Omg, I’ve just been watching this film, and one of the actresses looks just like your mum”. Yes, DD’s friend had likened me to Diane Keaton! Although I knew she was a lot prettier than me, I was very flattered, as she had always been the actress I most wanted to be like in real life.
This was that clip from the 1996 film The First Wives Club. I did wear my glasses a lot more around that time, and my hair was of a similar style and colour, so I can see how he thought of me, but I don’t think he ever realised just how big a compliment he had just paid me.
You Don’t Own Me by The Blow Monkeys:
You Don’t Own Me was a pop song recorded byLesley Gore in 1963, when she was just 17 years old. The song was her second most successful recording and her last top-ten single. It expressed emancipation, as the singer tells a lover she doesn’t want to be held to his hypocritical gender standards, such as not being able to see other men, when he sees other women. The song’s lyrics became an inspiration for younger women and are sometimes cited as a factor in the development of the second wave feminist movement. I don’t have the Lesley Gore version of this song in my library, but I do have this interesting version by The Blow Monkeys, recorded for the film Dirty Dancing which was set in 1963.
My final “Alyson/Diane lead parallel lives” story came about after I watched her in the 2003 film Something’s Gotta Give, with Jack Nicholson. Diane played Erica Barry, a successful writer who lives in a beautiful beach house overlooking the ocean. Although we don’t earn anything from this blogging hobby of ours, I have always been a frustrated writer so it’s a great outlet, also, my dream house would be one by the coast, overlooking the sea. But the big parallel between myself and Erica’s character is that she always wears polo-necks, or turtle-necks as they call them in North America. It’s a standing joke throughout the film, as it is with most of my friends who know that between the months of September and May I only wear cream or black polo-neck jumpers. Between June and August I change into striped T-shirts and shirts, but I never show much flesh.
Having read a lot about Diane since she died last Saturday, it seems her propensity for wearing polo-necks and hats with her quirky outfits in real life, was because she had suffered from recurring bouts of skin cancer, as have I. Not for us the sundresses and skimpy tops of our naturally darker skinned friends, and come September, when I become alabaster white again, I have to add a bit of artificial colour to my face. Having a tanned face but a white neck looks ridiculous, thus the polo-necks. I’ve even managed to source polo-necked evening dresses in the past for posh events!
So, “What’s It All About?” – I am beyond sad that Diane has left us and I hope I have explained in this post just why. She was the actress I most admired and felt close to because of the similarities between us. She will never pop up in anything new again but at least we still have all those great films to revisit time and time again.
RIP Diane Keaton xx
Until next time…
You Don’t Own Me Lyrics (Song by John Madara/Dave White)
You don’t own me I’m not just one of your many toys You don’t own me Don’t say I can’t go with other boys
And don’t tell me what to do Don’t tell me what to say And please, when I go out with you Don’t put me on display ’cause
You don’t own me Don’t try to change me in any way You don’t own me Don’t tie me down ’cause I’d never stay
I don’t tell you what to say I don’t tell you what to do So just let me be myself That’s all I ask of you
I’m young, and I love to be young I’m free, and I love to be free To live my life the way I want To say and do whatever I please
And don’t tell me what to do Oh, don’t tell me what to say And please, when I go out with you Don’t put me on display
I don’t tell you what to say Oh, don’t tell you what to do So just let me be myself That’s all I ask of you
I’m young, and I love to be young I’m free and I love to be free To live my life the way I want To say and do whatever I please
I am time poor this week, as for the first time in my life I’ve had to do jury duty. Also, it looks as if I might be tied up for a while, so to keep up my new regime of posting something weekly, I’m going to borrow from a post I wrote right at the start of my blogging career and doesn’t seem to have ever been read. The reason I’ve chosen to revisit this particular post and song is because I save things I find funny on social media, and I did recently find this little cartoon funny. Probably for those of us of a certain age.
First published 9th April 2016
Most people will have heard the song A Horse With No Name by America at some point in their lives. It was a hit in the UK for them in 1971 but it turns out they were actually from Ruislip outside London. Would seem a bit bizarre if not for the fact all three band members had US Airforce Officer fathers who were based over here, and that is how they met. There is no escaping the fact their music is very much in the style of Neil Young, and Crosby, Stills and Nash, but that was exactly what they intended so it worked well for them. I have written before about how kids like myself who came from rural Scotland, found this kind of music very exotic and otherworldly. We had no dark desert highways or tequila sunrises, we certainly didn’t have warm winds blowing the stars around, and we wouldn’t have dreamt of crossing a desert on a horse with no name. Oh no, plenty of cows and sheep where I came from and lots of lush grass, but the whole desert imagery thing was something well beyond our ken.
A Horse With No Name by America:
The amusing thing for me about this “desert” song, is that it was actually recorded in the UK, at a studio in Puddletown, Dorset (you couldn’t make it up). It was released here first and it was not until the following year that it was a hit in the US.
But back to the song. For me, it will always be associated with my school days. In Primary School I always wore my long hair tied back in a ponytail so it was inevitable that the joker of the class would assign me an “equine” nickname. Too embarrassing to spill the beans here but suffice to say it was all done in jest and never caused upset. When we moved up to Secondary School I found myself in the same class for most subjects as the joker from my junior school days. The ponytail had long gone, but of course the song A Horse With No Name had well and truly become a part of our musical memories, so for the next six years I often found myself sitting in class, concentrating on a tricky maths or physics problem, suddenly realising that this song was being quietly hummed in the background for my benefit. Sadly we have now lost touch, but I swear that if our middle-aged selves met up again today, I would get a big smile, would be greeted with my old nickname, and given a few bars of A Horse With No Name. Funny how some things stick.
Until next time…
A Horse With No Name Lyrics (Song by Dewey Bunnell)
On the first part of the journey I was looking at all the life There were plants and birds and rocks and things There was sand and hills and rings The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz And the sky with no clouds The heat was hot and the ground was dry But the air was full of sound
I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name It felt good to be out of the rain In the desert you can remember your name ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain La, la …
After two days in the desert sun My skin began to turn red After three days in the desert fun I was looking at a river bed And the story it told of a river that flowed Made me sad to think it was dead
You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name It felt good to be out of the rain In the desert you can remember your name ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain La, la …
After nine days I let the horse run free ‘Cause the desert had turned to sea There were plants and birds and rocks and things there was sand and hills and rings The ocean is a desert with it’s life underground And a perfect disguise above Under the cities lies a heart made of ground But the humans will give no love
You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name It felt good to be out of the rain In the desert you can remember your name ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain La, la …
What's It All About? 