Saturday, 15 August 2009

Love is a many splendoured thing 1

Daisy always had the Blues in her blood. In her prepubescent years while her friends were being witches or West Life fans, Daisy would sing the blues in her bedroom, loudly. Her mother was tone deaf, and her father wanted a quite life in other ways, so Daisy remained uninterrupted.

Around her fourteenth birthday she met Phil, and let him listen to her perform old Bonnie Rait numbers in her bedroom, while her mum was hanging out the washing downstairs. Phil, whose sex life had been chiefly a thing of fantasy, said he thought she was wonderful. She told him he had a lot to learn. Blues was not wonderful. It was searing and intense. But she slipped his hand up her t-shirt by way of encouragement

As they grew older, Daisy tried to start a band, but it was difficult. Fellow musicians drifted away, usually after the first rehearsal. It was only Phil’s determination, his white van and his overtime money from the Post Office that kept her going. She worked as a hairdresser, humming all the while, and sung in pubs at the weekend. There was never more than one gig per venue, but Phil assured her she needed the exposure.

One day during a lunchtime gig, after the strippers, she saw somebody recording her on his digital camera. He and his friend seemed to be smirking about something, so she faced them out and asked to see what was so funny.

She listened to herself in horror. “Phil, I sound like a foghorn!”

“You do, love,” replied Phil, gently. Then thinking to console her, he added, “But you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose.”

She’s given up the blues now. And she’s given up Phil, for letting her go on so long with it.


Big Bill Broonzy said...

Ah, the joys and tribulations of youth.

You wouldn't have any contact details for Daisy, would you?

She seems an eminently qualified young lady.

No One In Particular said...

The lengths some people will go to, to preserve the status quo. It must be in some direct proportion to one's level of vulnerability. Or hey, maybe I'm talking out of my ass!

Blind Lemon Jefferson said...

Now that's another skill worth cultivating.

Big Joe Turner said...

Ed Bergen used to do it but now David Cameron does it.

No One In Particular said...

As it turns out, I'm not talking out of my ass. I feel sure I would be aware of it if I was. A true talking point at dinner parties, in various ways.