Peter and the Artist

Peter had waited months to get the record. The first vinyl they shipped came broken, and in little pieces. Finally a replacement came. He had followed the artist since his breakout record. The new LP he knew was going to be something. It just had to be.

The first song played and there was the look of disappointment in his face as he listened. It was the same as the last two records. Same kind of songs, same kind of music.

The second song played. He couldn’t believe his ears. Then the third. He had waited so long. Six songs and he flipped the vinyl. He hoped against hope the record was going to get better. The B side was no better than the A. It was even worse.

After the record completed running through the songs, he took it off the turntable and threw it across the room. It broke into a hundred pieces. He went to the shelf and pulled out the artist’s last three, and only, records. He smashed them too. “Traitor,” he said loud enough for his mother downstairs to hear him.

Then he walked over and picked up the guitar he had plucked at for the last two months. He struck the strings once, then a second time, determined to do better than the guy he’d just smashed.

Uncle Bardie’s Spotlight Song: Coney Island

Once a week on Friday, Uncle Bardie celebrates the creativity in others by shining a Spotlight on a movie, a song or a creator. This week’s Spotlight Song is “Coney Island” by Van Morrison:

It’s Saint Patrick’s Day. To celebrate this day, I am giving you “Coney Island”. So just close your eyes and listen and imagine the images that Van Morrison gives us.

And since you’ve been good, I give you a second one by Van the Man:

 

Lady Wimpleseed-Prissypott 5: No Queen, No Bohemian Rhapsody

In which our heroine sees London

Previously a wedding and lots of peeps show up.

The newly wedded couple, Lord and Lady Wimpleseed-Prissypott, headed across Trafalgar and passed the statues of Lords Wellington and Nelson. As their carriage bypassed the great men, Prissypott saluted them with a right good salute, hearing a “well-done” whispered in his ear by the two greats. After all, in his younger days, he too had been an officer of the military persuasion and quite a good sportsman too, running the hounds and all. Then it was on to the Palace for the Queen and her blessing.

However, that wasn’t to be. Dunny and Marye, Lord and Lady Wimpleseed-Prissypott of Haggismarshe, were stopped by two Guards at the Gate of the Palace.

“I say, old boy,” Lord P. P. insinuated, “we’re here to see the Queen. We’re to receive her blessing.”

The tallest of the two tall guards, the one on the right, a rather good fellow responded, “There’ll be no queen-seeing today. Her Majesty is unavailable, sir.”

“She’s off dusting, you see,” the second of the two added. “The Queen’s prerogative, you know. Besides it’s Thursday, her day off. And you know how upset the Queen gets when she doesn’t get her day. It’ll be freaking nuts around here, that’s what it’ll be.”

“Perhaps that’s why she’s always sniffling with the sneezes,” Marye piped in. “From the dusting off. Leastways that’s what I have deduced from the papers.”

“I say, dear,” Lord P. P. offered, “ingenious deduction. You may very well be right. And I always induced that it was because Her Majesty was in mourning from the loss of her dear Albert.”

“Ain’t that a hoot?” Marye laughed. “I mean, my deducing.”

“A hoot?” the tall guard, the one on the right, the rather good fellow questioned. “What’s a hoot?”

“That’s American for … “ Marye started to say but didn’t. It would’ve spoiled the ruse they’d been rusing.

“Never you mind, old chap,” Dunnie piped in instead. “It’s a word in her ladyship’s native vocabulary. It is untranslatable into God-Save-the Queen English.” Turning to his ladyship, the old gent said, “Well, I know how disappointed you must be.”

“I am,” Lady P. P. said. “Disappointed, that is. What else would I be but disappointed?”

“How true, how true. I completely forgot Thursdays are Her Majesty’s day off. If we can’t see the Queen, we can’t see the Queen. Her Majesty will be so disappointed. She was looking forward to meeting your bosoms. I mean, your beautiful smile. I mean you. Well, you know what I mean?”

Lady P. P. most assuredly did know what he meant. His eyes had not removed themselves from her since that morning when they had done their “I doeses.”

Dunnie leaned out the window of the carriage and spoke to the driver. “Leavers, turn this thing around and take us home.”

Marye smiled, then laughed. P. P. was amazed.

“I am amazed,” P. P. said to his virginal bride.” Your optimism and all in the face of such disappointment. One could say that Her Majesty was rude if she weren’t Her Majesty and one were to say it. But she is Her Majesty. Therefore, she cannot be rude. She can only be majestic. How do you Americans keep up your optimism? I am always astonished that you in the colonies can be so cheery in the foggiest of Londons. All we English can do is keep our upper lips stiff, old girl.”

“Practice, I guess,” Marye said, admiring the sights as the good lord glanced approvingly at his pulchritudinous bride. “Besides it’s all a hoot anyway.”

They, the two of them plus Leavers that is, returned to Lord P. P.’s London residence. There the servants gathered up his luggage and his medications and his walker and his canes and her stuff too, and off they went down to the docks. They were to ship off on the Queen. Not The Queen Victoria, but the Queen Victoria, Empress of India, a ship of the Britannia line. Aboard the ship in their suite, the servants left the two and their luggage and went back to close-up the London residence.

Next week: The Honeymoon Suite

 

Alice and the Piano

The piano had been sitting there in the music room for quite some time. It was lonely. She knew it was lonely. There was nothing for Alice to do but provide it with some companionship, to sit down and caress those keys with some Chopin. She loved Chopin. From the first moment she heard the composer, she loved him. His music made her happy. She could be having the worst day of her life. A real down day. Then she hears a Chopin Nocturne and she is floating on air. So Alice sat down and began. She let her finger touch a key lightly and then it was on to another. Soon the keys were singing in such harmony it was almost as if they were playing a symphony. They weren’t. They were just playing a Nocturne.

Uncle Bardie’s Spotlight Movie: Tulaigh Mhór’s ‘Bout with the Lottery

Once a week on Friday, Uncle Bardie celebrates the creativity in others by shining a Spotlight on a movie, a song or a creator. This week’s Spotlight is the movie: “Waking Ned Devine” (1998):

This little bit of an Irish movie will surely make you smile. So raise your pint to Ned Devine this upcoming St. Paddy’s Day and thank him for his good fortune. It’s almost as good as finding a Leprechaun’s pot of gold.