Dad’s song brings the house down...

During the Fifties and Sixties when i was growing up, it was quite normal for certain extroverts to perform a turn at social gatherings. For example, my cousin, inspired by a Judy garland film, was taking dancing and singing lessons and, at the drop of a hat, would launch into a routine. Her ambition was to top the bill at Butlin’s which, at the time, i thought was very impressive. My grandfather, a miner and poet with hands the size of shovels, was another who loved to entertain with his masterpieces. During one recital, though, his memory failed and after a long, excruciating silence he sat down and, much to the relief of all concerned, never performed again. For Christmas 1962, i was given a Dansette tape recorder and became so adept at using it that when my grandparents had their golden Wedding party the following summer, i was the 16-year-old soundman responsible for recording the celebrations. After the meal and speeches, my dear old dad, as self-appointed MC for the evening, volunteered himself as the first turn. He had a lovely singing voice — at least that’s what he believed. Others, and there were plenty of them, begged to differ, saying they regularly found him somewhat challenged in the octave department. His problem was that excitement often got the better of him and, no matter how many times he rehearsed in the bath, when he got in front of an audience he might well start off in too high a key. For the golden Wedding, he had chosen to sing Bless This House and began the Twenties classic in a key straight from a Bee gees number. Humiliation beckoned and i found myself torn between my duty as a son and my role as the soundman. However, on this occasion we were in for a surprise. At the very instant when the song demanded that he soar like a lark and everyone braced for the inevitable falsetto, he paused and hollered: ‘All together now.’ i’m glad that i kept recording, for the cacophony that followed as 40-plus discordant voices, men, women and children, attempted to join in with Dad still gets the biggest laugh at family gatherings.

ian S. Clark, Freuchie, Fife.