music power

 Music Power ©

By Michael Casey

I was going to talk about Ariana Grande but I thought she might not understand the British sense of humour. As you know Taylor Swift does a bit of high dusting for me, she is so very tall after all. Then last night Ariana’s concert was on tv so I thought, as Ariana is the bee’s knees, and likes jumping about, maybe she could help Taylor out. So swing low, dust high, the perfect combination. I mean Ariana has such very long hair, so as she practices her routines she could  sweep my floor with her hair, and her nice hairdresser could get  any chewing gum out later. My own daughter once got bangles or something stuck in her hair, so my lawyer sister-in-law had to use chop sticks to untangle her hair, this was after we landed at my brother’s house for Christmas dinner, if I look I may even have a photo of it somewhere. We are a Shanghai/Birmingham family after all, so we had plenty of chopsticks, and I don’t mean on our old piano either. Anyway that was the idea, but Arians might not approve, so I won’t bother.

 

Taylor was just down the chip shop getting salt shaken at her, and not for a tap dancing routine in front of the frier. The Friars do live next door in a church, they like chips too, that’s why they are so fat. No Taylor had her head turned, the boy, still spotty despite his years, the boy said I’d just do a bit of battering and dip your fish on both sides, before letting it bubble away, to get crispy and so very very tasty. Then when it’s ready I’ll whip it out and sprinkle salt ever so lightly all over it, then I’ll add a scoop or two of freshly minted chips, shaken not stirred. And just for you, a dollop of mayo too. You can see why Taylor swooned, he gave her a free bottle of Irn Bru too, oh so very Scottish, so Taylor skipped away happily up the hill to my door. All I could hear was the heavy breathing, I thought old Mrs  Aktar from next door was having an asthma attack, or Juicy Lucy my neighbour on the other side was practicing mouth to mouth on Annie, no she’s not a Lesbian, Annie is the dummy they use to teach first aid. But no, it was Taylor not so Swifty bringing my dinner home, and I was very very hungry. She did have a sneaky saveloy on the side, and you think butter would not melt in her mouth. So that is the real reason she does my high dusting, just so she can be near the boy from the Chippy. Her head has been turned, and those marks  on her back, from where she leant on the counter where the cooked roe are keep in the warmer. The things you do for LOVE, leaning on the chip frier, the boy and the deep fat frier. But it does mean I get cheaper lunches, as Taylor has a smile on face, vinegar down shirt, and a dash of mayo in her hair. Maybe she should ask Ariana can she borrow her hair dresser.

 

Now what has this got to do with anything? Well I’m going to talk more about Music, and Celine has had the Courage to sing for me, and I’ve thrown a fish, non-battered, at Seal so I’ll Carry On, and God is in for a treat, Dame Babs in Heaven, God help him, but God Helps those who Help themselves, and Self Help is right up God’s street, just past the Coronation pub. Taylor can explain that on her notice board, the boy from the chip show allows her to use his chalk, and put the price of his fish there on  display.

 

Music has power, this Christmas we’ll think of mum stuffing the turkey for 13, the eight of us plus our 5 lodgers, and Celine’s song reminds us of our mum, it was playing the night she died, Because you Loved Me. And so she did, so emotions flow as we hear that song, especially at Christmas. My own favourite song is The Windmills of Your  Mind, the Thomas Crown Affair theme song, and if you’d followed my writing that’s self-explanatory. Though Fr. Brain who decades later became Bishop Brain, used to call me Sancho Panza as I followed my very tall brother. And Don Quixote  did tilt at windmills, so there is the circle.

Music revolves around our lives, Seal is singing If I Could, and if I could I’d be a Musician too, not the guy in the corner of the bar drinking and grooving from afar. Certain words and  phrases have such power, Aux Armes Citoyens  as the French sing, words are uplifting, and we’ve all seen Musicals galore where a theme is repeated and it beats your breast, and makes you tingle. This is the power of music, Politicians have music at rallies too, until they get a cease and desist notice from lawyers. Even Hitler had an association with music, but let’s leave him to burn in Hell.

 

Seal is still singing, Music takes you round and around, and it does I’m old enough to remember when records were just that, with groves in, you didn’t have CDs, I can actually remember when CDs appeared, it was on Tomorrow’s World, a science programme on the BBC. James Burke is still alive, he went on to do Space programs, but back then that’s how we heard about the Future via Tomorrow’s World. Now we stream everything, and down load to phones. We had a plastic white trannie and my eldest brother got a dedication on the radio, our dad heard it, this is 50 plus years ago. So Music moves us, it is a laxative that stops us from being sad, and makes us move and groove about the house. We have music everywhere, no need to carry the one tranny with us, we have smart speakers in nearly every room. So music follows us and lead us, it is are permanent plus one. We are so lucky, in the past it was a Long  Way to Tipperary, soldiers sung as the went off to war. No Good Morning Vietnam for decades, no music on every channel.

 

Music does channel us, it channels our love our passions, especially the English Channel, or la Manche as the French call it. Which brings us back to fish and chips, the British haut cuisine as the French may mock, but weren’t French sauces invented to cover the taste of eating rats, in the 1870 siege of Paris in the Franco Prussian war? But I won’t duck these hard questions, which reminds  me we are having Peking Duck tonight, Ratatouille one of Taylor’s friends provided the duck, from the  bargain basement. As for Taylor she is scribbling away all over the tablecloth, before she has to go and visit the boy in the chip shop. He’ll just shake salt all over her, little wonder she’s glowing when she returns with a free kebab for me. It’s the only reason I keep her on, as my high duster. I’ve got the Music in Me, I let it take over, as I wipe kebab sauce from my chin. Do you think if I ask nicely, Ariana might assist with the cleaning, Taylor leaves a trail of salt everywhere. And Totoro our cat licks it up, leaving cat spit all over my floor. And Totoro will be on a hot tin roof again tonight, it’s all the salt in her system, it makes her want to dance the night away….