Senior Salon – Reminiscing

Since the lovely Bernadette, the author of Haddon Musings, started the weekly Senior Salon I’ve become rather more disciplined about writing something for my blog at least once a week, so that I have something new to share with the growing band who participate. There is much to be learned from sharing the experiences of others and I’m making some good new blogging friends. Do follow the link and you’ll see what I mean: after a day or two there are usually around 20-25 posts there. As well as posting something new to the Salon I’ve also got into the habit of looking through my previous posts and adding a link to one of my “golden oldies” each week. New followers won’t have seen these before and I like to think that they’ll enjoy them. I live in hope!

Having not been well for the past couple of days I’ve got a little behind schedule this week, so I probably won’t be posting the new piece I had planned for a day or two yet. But then I hit on the brainwave of adding a new introduction to one of those golden oldies – so here I am, combining old and new writing. Go me! The piece that follows was originally posted on 22 April 2013 in response to that day’s WordPress Daily Prompt. It was a natural prompt for me, as I love my music and it gave me a link between what music means to me and my original reason for blogging. As I write this I’m listening to the album again, and reminding myself just how much I like it. Seeing the band play live would have been special for me in any event, but as it was the first gig I’d managed to get to in over two years, after my depression time-out, that gave it a whole new dimension. I spent the evening wrapped up in the music, gazing wistfully at the fiddle player/singer, Miranda Mulholland, and wishing I was 20 years younger! I tweeted the band on my way home from the show to thank them for a great evening, and Miranda replied, for which I will always be grateful. Somehow, I don’t think I’d have got a personal reply from many bands!

The song Easy Come, Easy Go carries a simple message, but I think it is one that we all need to hear sometimes.

 

Daily Prompt: Earworm

The question posed in today’s prompt is “What song is stuck in your head (or on permanent rotation in your CD  or MP3 player) these days? Why does it speak to you?”

The song which I have played most since the album it’s on came out last summer is unlikely to be known by many. It is ‘Easy Come, Easy Go’ by the Canadian band The Great Lake Swimmers. Here’s the official video:

“Easy come and easy go

That’s what they say when they’re about to go broke

So try not to choke

And put your arms around me and don’t ever let go”

Have you even heard of them, let alone know their music? They have been together in various incarnations since 2003 and the album this song is on – ‘New Wild Everywhere’ – is their fifth. If you’d like to find out more about them they are at www.greatlakeswimmers.com

Apart from the fact that I love this band’s music, and this song in particular, there are two answers to the question about why it speaks to me. Firstly, the message is a simple one: “everything can be collapsing around you, but I’m here to look after you” – I know it’s more complex than that, but that’s what I take as the underlying message of the song. It’s a message I like and which I think we all want to have from a special someone if life reaches the point of being dismantled around us, as in the video, or should we be going through a difficult time. As you’ll know if you’ve read any of my previous offerings, I am in recovery from depression and started this blog to encourage others that things can and do get better. But I don’t just sail blithely through life, and I still have my black dog days. I had a spell of these last week and didn’t really start feeling better until yesterday morning. This was the first song I played – it is hard not to get carried along by the tune, and the words seemed comforting after a very rough few days. That’s what the song does for me.

The second level is that this band will always be special to me for a very personal reason. Before I was ill I used to love going to live gigs, usually at least once a month. I went through a period of nearly two years when I just didn’t feel like going to one – Great Lake Swimmers at Bush Hall in London, 26th November 2012, was my first after all that time. Being able to overcome my apprehension at going, on a horrible wet Monday night, to be part of a crowd and to enjoy losing myself in the music again is something that will stay with me forever. And just to prove I was there, a very quick snippet of ‘Ballad of a Fisherman’s Wife’ :

I hope you have a special song, piece of music, poem, painting or whatever that says something for you when you need a comforting ‘voice.’ Why not share yours via the comments box, it would be interesting to see what helps, comforts and encourages you.

Say Your Name

Today’s WordPress prompt is Say Your Name and the guidance given is: “Write about your first name: Are you named after someone or something? Are there any stories or associations attached to it? If you had the choice, would you rename yourself?”

This sounded very familiar, so I did a little checking and found that I had posted to an almost identical prompt on 1 June 2013. On the assumption that most of my followers weren’t here all those years ago and won’t therefore have read that post I decided to rework it for today’s prompt. Well, if WordPress can recycle their prompt why can’t I recycle my post? 🙂

Me. Apparently.

Me. Apparently.

As you’ve probably noticed my name is Clive, which according to every source I can find means ‘cliff’ or ‘slope’  and is usually believed to refer to someone who lived near one of these. The name is of English origin, and was first found around the 11th century. I feel old already! It is apparently quite uncommon as a first name, but is more in use as a surname.  The most famous example of this is probably General Sir Robert Clive – or ‘Clive of India’ as he is more widely known. I’ve always understood that my parents chose the name as it couldn’t be abbreviated – an approach they seem to have abandoned by the time my duo-syllabic sister came along. However, I was born in Dover, which has a few White Cliffs nearby, so maybe they knew something?

Almost.......

Almost…….

I also found that there is or was a parliamentary electorate called Clive in the Hawke’s Bay Region of New Zealand. I would imagine that this is more likely to be something to do with the General than me though. And something I never even thought possible: I’m an acronym! Yes, CLIVE stands for Computer-aided Learning IVeterinary Education. So, after all this time, I finally have proof that I really am the mutt’s nuts!

My surname?

My surname?

My parents’ plan met with debatable success. Whilst I was always ‘Clive’ at home, apart from the times when I was ‘Clive Howard Pilcher!!!!’ – usually a signal to make myself scarce – no one at school ever managed to shorten my name. They simply didn’t use it at all! I answered most to ‘Chip,’ which of course came from my initials (see above) and also to Pilch – if they couldn’t abbreviate my first name, why not go for the surname instead? And thanks to a major TV advertising campaign of the 60s and 70s I was also known as ‘Glen.’ The clue is in the picture! You may have spotted that I’m attached to ‘Chip,’ which has also been a pet name for me for a number of people, not just in my schooldays. I keep it to this day as part of some of my various online incarnations.

Would I change my name? For what is probably an old-fashioned reason, i.e. that it is what my parents chose for me and I feel it would be disrespectful to them to change it, No I wouldn’t. Anyway, I’ve had 62+ years with it and I quite like it. It feels a little special to me, particularly as I rarely come across another with the same name. It’s not as if I’ve been lumbered with something embarrassing anyway. Never have I been more grateful that my parents have only been celebrities to me, not in the wider world! Calling your son ‘Marion’ for example? What would he do with that?  The reverse seems to be true of modern-day celebrities, many of whom seem to be competing for a ‘most stupid child’s name’ prize.

It isn’t just a recent trend, either. Going back to the 60s there was Frank Zappa, whose four children delight in the names Moon, Dweezil, Ahmet and Diva. Er, right. It’s not as if dear old Frank was strange at all, is it? One sounds like an insect repellent, while another appears to have been some kind of advance personality diagnosis. Into the 70s and along came Zowie Bowie, who understandably prefers to use the ‘Duncan Jones’ part of his full name in his film industry career. Another product of the songwriter’s ability for rhyming is Rolan Bolan, whose real surname is actually ‘Feld.’ I guess Held Feld or Smeld Feld were just too silly.

Bob and Terry

Bob and Terry – a joke 20 years before ‘Brooklyn’

More recently we have many wonderful examples of celebrity parental idiocy. So many in fact that I could do a whole piece on them. But I’ll content myself by just making fun of a couple of the more obvious ones! The Beckhams’ reason for choosing Brooklyn as the name for their first born perhaps shows a love of the 60s TV series The Likely Lads and the 70s follow up (remember ‘Robert Scarborough Ferris’?). It’s probably as well that the act didn’t take place in Peckham. But Beckenham might have been nice.

My other obvious example is Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin, who thought it a good idea to call their children ‘Apple’ and ‘Moses.’ It’s a real shame that they have consciously uncoupled, as now we’ll never get ‘Microsoft’, ‘Android’ or ‘God,’ will we?

And if you’ll indulge my diversion a little longer, I wonder where this could go next. Maybe we could get children’s names being sponsored by advertisers? ‘Churchill Biggins’ perhaps? Or ‘Direct Line Keitel?’ ‘Nespresso Clooney?’ ‘EE Bacon?’  And even without celebrity appearances and voiceovers, I’m looking forward to the first kid called ‘Moonpig’ or ‘MoneySupermarket.’ And we mustn’t forget the practice of choosing names based on favourite TV programmes and characters – anyone for Sherlock, Downton, Strictly or, simply, Who?

I’ve sidetracked myself some way from where I began. But apart from taking the chance to have a pop at idiots, there’s a serious point in here somewhere. I wouldn’t change my name – it’s part of me, my identity, who I am. Why should I or anyone want to change that? We all go through difficult times now and then, when we may well wish we were someone or somewhere else. But if we were able to conjure ourselves into another persona we’d be giving up our identities, wouldn’t we? Our names are part of us, part of our culture and heritage. And giving up on yourself is something no one should ever do.

Marion

Marion

Oh, I almost forgot! That boy named Marion. If you didn’t know, he was born Marion Morrison but became John Wayne. Hardly surprising, really, as “Kindly dismount and have a cup of camomile tea” doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, does it?