Some good lines in this one but I have a feeling it wasn’t used. I had plenty in the show at that time and perhaps this wasn’t my strongest political lyric when taken as a whole.
JOHNNY MAGGIE _
(To the Tune of “Johnny Reggae”)
INTRO
CHORUS:What’s he like Margaret? MAGGIE:He’s a real dreary geezer.
VERSE 1 – MAGGIE THATCHER
He’s going bald a bit and he’s been in power much too long; And he wears a nylon tie with the label “C&A” on; He always makes a cock up when decisions cross his path, He’s stupid over cricket, And he couldn’t run a bath.
CHORUS 1 – CHORUS
Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, Slag off Johnny Maggie, Johnny Major Maggie, Lay it on him; Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, In your memoirs Maggie, Slag off Johnny Maggie, Blame it on him.
VERSE 2 – JOHNNY MAJOR
While still in power she promised she would go on and on; And most of Maggie’s memoirs are like a dose of Mogadon; Her publishers were anxious cos they want a best seller; They told her “spice it up a bit, Slag off that Major fellah.”
CHORUS 2 – CHORUS
Maggie is a menace, She slurs more than Dennis, Her book shook John then it’s Hit the stalls; Johnny tried to cage her, But he can’t upstage her, Maggie’s got John Major by the balls!!!
Below is a video of The Piglets singing Johnny Reggae:
Janie and I were preparing to go to China, Hong Kong & Bali in the late summer of 1993. An element of prophylaxis was called for, including some vaccination. In particular, we both needed a typhoid jab; I hadn’t had one of those since 1979.
My track record with vaccination was not (and is not) a glorious one. I am a true believer and always take recommended vaccines, but I get irrationally nervous for jabs. One especially ignominious example from my infanthood (some time in the mid-1960s) is contained in the prelude to this (here or below) weird, other story:
For those who choose not to read the above, Dr Green ended up under the dining room table at Woodfield Avenue giving a terrified, bolting infant-version of me one of my childhood jabs in the buttock.
Further, my previous experience with typhoid vaccination, in 1979 ahead of my visit to Mauritius, had not been a great experience. It had left me feeling very sore and a bit poorly for a couple of days.
I therefore planned my typhoid jabs with precision, arranging a Friday end of the day appointment so I could drive straight over to Janie’s, where she had promised to look after me and help me convalesce from the jab.
I seem to recall that she made soup for the purpose. Chicken might have been involved as well. We’d been going out for over a year by then and in any case she had insight into the quintessential cultural mores.
Prophylactic, therapeutic, palliative…chicken soup has got the lot
While all that tender loving care was being prepared in my honour, a trembling version of me turned up at the Colville Health Centre to see Dr Rasheed at 17:40.
Dr Rasheed was a locum, I believe. My regular GP at that time was Dr Catherine Mok. I used to refer to my regular GP as “Mok The Afflicted”, but only because I was addicted to puns. She was a very good GP in my view.
Are you all right?…
…asked Dr Rasheed, perhaps concerned by this trembling wreck of a patient.
Sorry, doctor. I’m a total wimp when it comes to jabs.
Hmmm. Well, the really cowardly people don’t turn up for jabs at all. What are you afraid of?
It’s irrational, doctor, I realise that. But actually, in the matter of this typhoid vaccination, I get a bad reaction to it, so I am anticipating feeling very sore and a bit poorly this weekend.
Dr Rasheed looked puzzled.
When did you last have a typhoid vaccination?
1979, when I went to Mauritius.
Dr Rasheed laughed.
We don’t use those antiquated vaccines any more. You haven’t had Typhim before. You might get a little soreness at the site but side effects are all-but unheard of now.
Back when a jab was really a jab. You knew about it for days. That’s what I call a jab.
It was all over in the batting of an eyelid. I felt like a total fraud as I was driving to Janie’s place, anticipating some 24 hours of tender loving care, realising that my chances of actually feeling poorly were vanishingly small.
Cushions, plumped up pillows, gentle entreaties of the “how are you feeling now?” variety…
…so for how long did I milk that TLC situation before coming clean to Janie that I had been worrying about some obsolete vaccine from a bygone era and didn’t feel sore and poorly at all with this one?
Strangely, I remember going with Janie to an open day for one of her chiropody suppliers, Footman, in Mitcham.
It was a bit weird.
I think one of the reasons I tagged along was because we wanted to see the movie Much Ado About Nothing and the sensible show time that Sunday was to go straight on from Janie’s trade show.
“But I thought Janie doesn’t like Shakespeare?” I hear you cry. Well, that wasn’t quite so set/established by then and in any case so many people were telling us that we needed to see this movie because the Beatrice and Benedick bit of the plot reminded people of our relationship.
Yawn.
Kenneth Brannagh & Emma Thompson? Do me a favour. Who were we and/or our friends trying to kid?
Not a bad movie though, in that British costume drama/turn a classic into a rom-com sort of way.
This lyric ran and ran in NewsRevue, done by several different casts performed in various ways.
There was a sense of optimism about the Middle East peace process that autumn. Yitzhak Rabin was pushing hard for a peace deal on the Israeli side and Yasser Arafat was also doing the diplomacy rounds. The Oslo Accord was signed the day after I wrote this lyric.
I press the above point, because, writing in 2019 with peace seeming further away than ever, such a lighthearted and irreverent lyric would seem inappropriate; unhelpful even.
But the fact of the matter was that peace seemed ever so close, Rabin was the distant handshake type and Yasser was definitely the kissing type. Perhaps unfortunately, a kiss never happened between those two leaders.
I have found a 2018/2019 equivalent asymmetric kiss between Theresa May and Jean-Claude Juncker, which has the requisite lack of mutual enthusiasm as I envisaged it for Rabin and Arafat. And let’s face it, the kissing doesn’t seem to be helping the Brexit process – click here.
Below is the actual, famous September 1993 handshake, with all that hope and promise that went with it, the day after I wrote the Yasser Kissing Song lyric:
Next up, the Yasser Kissing Song lyric:
THE YASSER KISSING SONG
(To the Tune of “It’s In His Kiss”)
INTRO
He’s so ugly, slimy and fat, I don’t wanna kiss from Yasser Arafat.
VERSE 1
{Does he shake your hand?} Not in the Middle East, {We don’t understand} You’ll get a snog at least; If you have a chat with Yasser Arafat, You’ll get a kiss {smack on the lips}, Oh yeh, you’ll get a kiss {that’s how it is}.
VERSE 2
{One day he’s in Amman} Embracing King Hussein, {Then kissing in Oman} Then schmoozing on his plane; Watch those Sultans glow once that Yasser goes, Back to Tunis {that’s where he lives}, Oh no, they don’t want his {dalliances}.
MIDDLE BIT
Kiss him and squeeze him tight, To influence the PLO – vote; Just make sure that he doesn’t stick, His tongue down your throat.
VERSE 3
{About his huge tea towel} Oh no, it’s a keffiyeh, The way he wears it is awfully queer; But the PLO have got Jerico, And Gaza strip {we want his peace}, Oh yeh but not his kiss, Smack on the lips !!!!!
Below is Cher singing It’s In His Kiss with the lyrics on the screen:
I enclose your starter pack of lyrics and tape for my current offerings. The pack includes some very new ones, some rewrites of older ones and some that have been cruelly overlooked before but still have life in them.
Please do call me and let me know if you are short of any subjects or styles and I shall try to oblige. Also, if any of these need a bit of rewrite then I shall be happy to change them on request.
For some reason, the Labour Party had chosen the main theme from the fourth movement of Brahms’s first symphony as its party anthem at that time.
I like the symphony and the tune but wasn’t sure about it as a Labour motif.
I’m not sure when or if this one was used. The log says I wrote it 8 September but the electronic file is dated 23 October, so I might have tinkered or just resubmitted to the next run.
Some good lines, I think. And Brahms.
THE LABOUR CHORUS
(To the Tune of Brahms Symphony No 1 Mov IV, “Labour Theme” bit)
CHORUS 1
We’re the Labour chorus, We’re not really that left wing; The voters ignore us, Because of the songs we sing; As, They find it a drag, To hear the red flag, They hate it irrational-ly; And get a fright, When the workers unite, To sing the Internationale…….
CHORUS 2 (which starts two notes before the end of chorus 1)
…..We’re the Labour chorus, The unions are up in arms; Cos John Smith implored us, To sing you a tune by Brahms; Who, Was bourgeois and dead, And not very red, Which is much like the Labour move-ment; John Smith will gloat, As he dumps the block vote, To start to build Labour’s improvement………
CHORUS 3 (which starts two notes before the end of chorus 2)
…..We’re the Labour chorus, We sing when we’ve drunk some jars; This tune ought to bore us, Cos we’ve only learnt twelve bars; But, We’re up in the polls, And wait for our roles, In the Government bathed in glor-y; ‘Tho’ in the end, Half those voters intend, To swop sides and vote bloody Tory!!!!
Here’s the Chicago Symphony Orchestra under James Levine playing that Brahms movement. The Labour Chorus theme emerges for the first time after 5’10”. Then it reappears periodically.
I tweaked this lyric and re-released it in the autumn of 1994:
THE LABOUR CHORUS AUTUMN 1994 REMIX (To the Tune of Brahms Symphony No 1 Mov IV, “Labour Theme” bit) CHORUS 1 We’re the Labour chorus, We’re not really that left wing; The voters ignore us, Because of the songs we sing; As, They find it a drag, To hear the red flag, They hate it irrational-ly; And get a fright, When the workers unite, To sing the Internationale……. CHORUS 2 (which starts two notes before the end of chorus 1) …..We’re the Labour chorus, The unions are up in arms; Cos Tony implored us, To sing you a tune by Brahms; Who, Was bourgeois and dead, And not very red, Like John Smith, whom we gave applause for, Tories will gloat, Now we’ve dumped the block vote, And started to row over clause four……… CHORUS 3 (which starts two notes before the end of chorus 2) …..We’re the Labour chorus, We sing when we’ve drunk some jars; This tune ought to bore us, Cos we’ve only learnt twelve bars; But, We’re up in the polls, And wait for our roles, In the Government bathed in glor-y; ‘Tho’ in the end, Half those voters intend, To swap sides and vote bloody Tory!!!!
I did another minor rewrite of this lyric in 1997. The reference to “Such” is Screaming Lord Such, who ran as a Monster Raving Loony in every election for decades.:
LABOUR CHORUS 1997 REMIX To the Tune of Brahms Symphony No 1 Mov IV, “Labour Theme” bit) CHORUS 1 We’re the Labour chorus, We’re not really that left wing; Some voters ignore us, Because of the songs we sing; As, They find it a drag, To hear the red flag, They hate it irrational-ly; And get a fright, When the workers unite, To sing the Internationale……. CHORUS 2 (which starts two notes before the end of chorus 1) …..We’re the Labour chorus, The unions are up in arms; Cos young Blaire implored us, To sing you a tune by Brahms; Who, Was bourgeois and dead, And not very red, Which is much like the Labour move-ment; Tony was sure, That to chuck out Clause Four, Was the way to Labour’s improvement……… CHORUS 3 (which starts two notes before the end of chorus 2) …..We’re the Labour chorus, We sing when we’ve drunk some jars; This tune ought to bore us, Cos we’ve only learnt twelve bars; But, We’re up in the polls, And wait for our roles, In the Government bathed in glor-y; We’ve changed so much, Might as well vote for Such, Or swop sides and vote bloody Tory!!!!
Janie and I talk about he fact that we have played tennis throughout our time together, which is true. We even played tennis of sorts the very day we met:
But in reality, we didn’t play all that much during our first year together. We did occasionally play at Kim & Micky’s place – indeed Janie did that more regularly than I did. But it was very occasional.
I have found a reference in Janie’s diary which is, I think, the first time we went down to Lamas Park and played on the courts there together.
11.30 Tennis. Plus £2.50
That was the start of our regular tennis. Not every week, or even most weeks, at first. But quite quickly it became a very regular thing.
Lamas Park became “the place” for us for six or seven years. Them, around the turn of the century, we switched to Boston Manor Park. But that’s another story.
Janie’s first encounter with Günter, was this. Possibly Pauline’s too, although she “will have done all that” with Janie’s father decades earlier, no doubt.
Günter Wand had a close working relationship with the BBC Symphony Orchestra for the Proms for a long time.
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.