Travel, Theatre, Music, Cricket, Tennis, Writing, Life
This is the first year I escaped carnival by taking refuge at Janie’s place. It is a tradition that has persisted for over quarter of a century at the time of writing.
No clues about what we did.
Very little, presumably.
We were no doubt busy celebrating my birthday and the anniversary of our first date:
Nothing wrong with that.
What a gift for the satirists during the slow news part of the summer – glass found in lager. All a bit obvious, but it had to be done.
BROKEN GLASS
(A quickie song to the Tune of “Breaking Glass” plus voiceover)
The voiceover may be useable after another song or sketch on this news item.
The song and voiceover are independent of one another.
THE QUICKIE SONG
Lately,
There’s been;
Broken glass in my Heineken.
See.
(Takes a glass of cooled Heineken and drinks from it)
It’s such a wonderful lager.
(starts to choke)
But it’s got problems:
Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh
THE VOICEOVER
(Chirpy Danish voice)
Only Heineken can do this.
Because Heineken defleshes the parts other beers cannot reach.
Here is David Bowie singing Breaking Glass with the lyrics on the screen.
More than 25 years later, as I write in March 2019, the topic of Michael Jackson and his unacceptable behaviour with children is still in the news. If anyone tells you that nobody knew and/or that nobody criticised “back then”, you can at least point to this 1993 lyric.
BLAME IT ON THE PARENTS
(Quickie to the Tune of “Blame it on the Boogie”)
VERSE 1
Most people say I’m funky,
‘Tho’ I look like a junky,
And I love my pet monkey,
That’s no lie.
I played my gigs in Thailand,
It really should be my land,
Cos messing round with kids out there is fine.
CHORUS 1
Don’t blame it on the skin graft,
Don’t blame it on the face lift,
Don’t blame it on the bleach bath;
Blame it on the parents.
Don’t blame it on the child star,
Don’t blame it on the fruit cake,
Just blame it on the bad pa,
Blame it on the parents.
OUTRO
(Dance off singing)
I just can’t, I just can’t, I just can’t control my prick;
I just can’t, I just can’t, I just can’t control my prick….
Below is a video with Michael Jackson singing Blame It On The Boogie with the lyrics on the screen:
This was a story that ran and ran. John Demjanjuk was, over many decades, tied up in the judicial system in many countries accused and at times convicted of war crimes and crimes against humanity dusing the Nazi era.
This lyric covered but one of the many wrangles over those decades, when Demjanjuk’s conviction for being a particular Ivan the Terrible was overturned. It is quite possible that he was some other Ivan The Terrible though. He died in 2012 with elements of the matter unresolved/still pending appeal.
I’m not sure the lyric was ever used. The idea of jurisdictions trying to avoid having to ddeal with tough cases of this kind seems as relevant as I write in 2019 as it did in 1993. I think the closing line of this lyric is pretty darned good, though I say so myself.
SOMEONE ELSE
(To the Tune of “Something Else”)
VERSE 1
Well looky there,
In Tel Aviv;
There goes that Demyanuk,
If he’s a Nazi he would make me puke;
But judges have their doubts in Israel,
The evidence was terrible that sent him to jail;
So now those judges are a-sayin’ to themselves;
“He sure ain’t Ivan, man,
He’s someone else”.
VERSE 2
Well looky there,
In USA;
They thought the case was dead,
They want Demyanuk like a hole in the head;
The locals will protest and Jews complain,
The Fed will extradite Demyanuk to the Ukraine;
So now those frightened nations are all sayin’ to themselves;
“We sure ain’t trying him,
Try somewhere else”.
Given the context, the Sid Vicious version of the song “Something Else”, with lyrics on the screen, seems suitable:
Both of our diaries say:
Andrea dinner?
Neither has any further details.
I’m going to guess that this particular idea fell through.
But it might have happened that evening, just with neither of us writing any further details in the diary.
For sure we did have dinner with Andrea…more than once…but probably not that night.
The log says I write this 16 August 1993 but I certainly revived it in Amipro 17 October 1994 – doesn’t look as though I changed it much if at all.
Probably unused in 1993, possibly unused full stop.
I rather like it.
AIN’T GOT NO….I’LL REVIVE
(To the Tune of “Ain’t Got No…I Got Life” from “Hair”)(Outrageous Hair type wigs and costumes could make this number. The song works equally well in plural as in singular….we ain’t, we got, etc)
AIN’T GOT NO…
I ain’t got no tune, ain’t got no tone,
Ain’t got no rhythm, ain’t got no score,
Ain’t got no beat, ain’t got no chorus,
Ain’t got no music, ain’t got no key, ain’t got no chords.I ain’t got no texture, ain’t got no structure,
Ain’t got no drama, ain’t got no lyric,
Ain’t got no pitch, ain’t got no scale,
Ain’t got no tempo. ain’t got no gusto, ain’t got no plot.MIDDLE BIT
Ohhhhh what have I got, I’ve no new hit musicals?
Ohhhhh what is in stock, all the new ones are balls.I GOT……
I got Hair, I got Grease,
I got Cats, I got Chess;
I got Mame, Guys and Dolls,
And Joseph and Kiss Me Kate.Got Annie and Gypsy,
And Gigi, and Tommy,
Carmen Jones, Carousel,
And Cabaret to reinstate.I got Evita to repeat,
I got Starlight to reignite;
I may get Show Boat back afloat,
I’ll redo Godspell’s, Chorus Line.I’ll reprise,
I’ve got old chest-nuts,
To revive!!!!
Here’s Nina Simone singing Ain’t Got No…I Got Life, with lyrics on the screen:
According to my log, I wrote an initial version of this lyric 15 August 1993 but the first version I have in electronic form is labelled V2 from 28 August:
IT’S SLOW NEWS WEEK – REVISED
(To the Tune of “It’s Good News Week”)
VERSE 1
It’s slow news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
MPs still on holiday, if most of them would stay away,
Then things may turn out right.
It’s low news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
Gummer had a rotten day, while Pete and Gini Bottomley,
Were on the Isle of Wight.
MIDDLE BIT 1
Let’s make up the news,
What can we say?
Paul Gascoigne’s fat,
And Cliff Richard might be gay {and Cliff Richard might be gay}.
VERSE 2
It’s slow news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
Emma Thompson sneezed somewhere, and Kenneth Brannagh’s pubic hair,
Has started to turn grey;
It’s no news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
Stephen Fry is celibate, he’d rather eat some halibut,
Than get his end away.
MIDDLE BIT 2
Let’s make up more news,
Affairs of state;
Diana’s blues,
Does Prince Edward masturbate? {does Prince Edward masturbate?}.
VERSE 3
It’s duff news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
Now Ted Danson’s new toupee has helped him get his end away,
With Whoopie Goldberg’s trunk;
It gets more weak; {ummmmmmmmm}
Hair transplant for Brian Clough but journalists are paid enough,
To spare us from this junk {so spare us from this junk, just spare us from this junk}.
Below is the song It’s Good News Week performed by Hedgehoppers Anonymous.
Click here for the lyrics to It’s Good News Week
Below is Version 3 of my lyric, dated 12 September 1993:
IT’S SLOW NEWS WEEK – REVISED
(To the Tune of “It’s Good News Week”)
VERSE 1
It’s slow news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
MPs back from holiday, if most of them had stay away,
I’m sure we still would cope.
It’s low news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
Conferences are such a bore, those yanks Bill Clinton and Al Gore,
Are such a pair of dopes.
MIDDLE BIT 1
Let’s make up the news,
What can we say?
Paul Gascoigne’s fat,
And Cliff Richard might be gay {and Cliff Richard might be gay}.
VERSE 2
It’s slow news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
Emma Thompson sneezed somewhere, and Kenneth Brannagh’s pubic hair,
Has started to turn grey;
It’s no news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
Stephen Fry is celibate, he’d rather eat some halibut,
Than get his end away.
MIDDLE BIT 2
Let’s make up more news,
Affairs of state;
Diana’s blues,
Does Prince Edward masturbate? {does Prince Edward masturbate?}.
VERSE 3
It’s duff news week, {ummmmmmmmm}
Now Ted Danson’s new toupee has helped him get his end away,
With Whoopie Goldberg’s trunk;
It gets more weak; {ummmmmmmmm}
Hair transplant for Brian Clough but journalists are paid enough,
To spare us from this junk {so spare us from this junk, just spare us from this junk}.
Version 1 (which I’d guess was similar to Version 2) might turn up in hard copy form. I’ll upload a scan of it if it shows up. But it might well be lost in the mists of time.
We saw this production after it transferred from the Young Vic to the Duke of York’s.
We hated the discomfort of those West End theatres, but this was one we really wanted to see.
We didn’t see Peter Davison and Zoe Wannamaker at The Duke of Yorks, we saw Matthew Marsh and Margot Leicester instead. A fair swap, I’d say.
Below is Michael Billington’s review:
Billington Last Yankee Thu, Jan 28, 1993 – 30 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com
Below is Michael Coveney’s review of same:
Coveney On The Last Yankee Sun, Jan 31, 1993 – 55 · The Observer (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com
I seem to recall we thought this play was a bit all over the place. It was very well received, but we thought it had glimpses of Miller’s greatness without being of Miller’s very best.
Still, well worth seeing, we felt. It wasn’t until Mr Peters’ Connections a few years later that we concluded that Miller’s light really had (excuse the pun) petered our.
By the looks of it, Ros Ellott was due to come and stay with Janie that weekend but in the end did not.
We had booked out a long weekend for the purpose.
I guess Janie and I found things to do, but none are recorded in the diary.
We both worked on the Tuesday – Janie working a very long day – then headed up to the Canal Cafe Theatre to see the Edinburgh show preview.
Elements of that particular Edinburgh show have been preserved for all posterity through a TV show named The Wire. The extracts even include one of mine – the Kate Adie Song.
The NewsRevue bit of the show starts at c7:00.
Top marks again to Janie in the stalwart stakes, coming with me to that show after a 12-13 hour working day.
Mangosuthu Buthelezi in 1983 photo by Rob Bogaerts / Anefo, CC BY-SA 3.0 NL
I wrote this up on the back of a 1995 electronic document…
…but it turns out that my log records the original as 9 August 1993.
Everthing I said in that 1995 document still applies, except that the conversation that Barry Grossman and I had that summer (or as the South Africans might describe August; winter) was 1993, not 1995.
I still think that “Roll Out Those Hazy, Crazy, Mangosuthu Buthelezi Days Of Summer” is a great song title – thank you Barry Grossman.
Here’s the earliest version for which I can find an electronic file; 23 October 1993. I clearly extended the piece in 1995:
ROLL OUT THOSE HAZY CRAZY MANGOSUTHU BUTHELEZI BATTLES – VERSION 2
(To the Tune of “Roll Out Those Hazy Crazy Lazy Days of Summer”)
CHORUS 1
Roll out those hazy crazy Buthelezi battles,
Those wars of Zulus, Incartha and fear;
Roll out that hazy crazy Buthelezi Natal,
Natal may be independent next year.
VERSE 1
He hates that ANC man Cyril Ramaphosa,
Say’s he’s a poser,
And a jerk;
But when they’re fighting in the townships like Tokoza,
They take the F out of F.W. de Klerk.
CHORUS 2
Throw out that hazy crazy Buthelezi arsehole,
He’s made a pact with the Fascistic whites;
Just flush that shady Buthelezi down the plug hole,
And put an end to his quarrelsome fights;
Build understanding and more human rights.
Here’s Nat King Cole singing Hazy Crazy Lazy Days Of Summer with lyrics embedded:
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