Campbeltown Courier

Thought for the Week

- with Marilyn Shedden

I don’t know how many were in the Manchester Arena, or at Campbeltow­n Picture House for that matter, but I know the concert was live-streamed to 80,000 people. I make no bones about the fact that I have always been a Cliff Richard fan. I find that when I hear the familiar strains of Cliff’s songs, which were such a part of my life in the 1960s, nostalgia takes a firm grip on my heart and I yearn for years gone by. My youth seems just a few dances away, rather than a few decades away, as the words of the songs of my teenage years tumble with no need for prompting whatsoever. Music is such an evocative thing and can transport us so easily to times gone by when reminiscen­ce brings a glow of comfort but also a sense of longing to recapture the good times. There was a great feeling of camaraderi­e in the wee Picture House and it was good to share this common bond of a common past. Cliff entertaine­d with his usual ease and profession­alism and was backed by a great group of musicians. Songs old and new enchanted his audience, but it was one song that made me stop and think. This was when Cliff sang ‘The Lord’s Prayer’. I thought then that, not only the folk in the wee Picture House, not only the folk in the Manchester Arena joined in this song, but the 80,000 folk to whom this concert was live-streamed also joined in singing ‘The Lord’s Prayer’. So maybe one 100,000 people sang, or heard, ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ on Friday night. That must mean something.

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