Tuesday, 18 September 2012

'Where's My Cape Gone Love?'

Can you be a cynical bugger and raise a child? Or should I ask can you be a cynical bugger and not raise your child to think the same as you? The Chancellor often accuses me of moaning and complaining about everything. Now I would hope if you having been reading this blog that I have come across as nothing but energetic, cheery, full of the zest of life and not at all cynical. I only ever occasionally moan and complain.

Today was the first of our weekly sing along groups. And before even midday I'm fed up with nursery rhymes and smiling. How many times can one man hear 'Wind the Bobbin Up' or 'Grand Old Duke of York' before screaming with madness and running for the nearest cliff. I wake up mornings singing these songs. No joke. I'm in the toilet I'm singing. I'm in the supermarket I'm singing. I'm in the pub I'm singing.  There must be some mind control element to these things. It's like we are in some happy and deranged version of Brave New World or 1984. From a young age these songs have infiltrated the wee man's subconscious and he is really happy when the group leaders sing these songs, which means I HAVE to sing these things to him at home. Over and over and over and over...I'm in some terrible infinite musical cycle. Round and around and around...I'm heading for that cliff again.

There is one group we go to which I actually like going to and so does the wee man. The two leaders play their own instruments and write their own material which is really good, both the standard of playing and their songs. It is called Piccolo. But they have one song in particular about shaking maracas higher and lower which I will never forget even when I'm a demented old man. Having said that it will be this song that makes me demented. And most of the lovely ladies I hang out with all feel the same about this song. They sing it everywhere and it has become implanted in their head and is now an extension of their own mind and personality. Help is needed to for us to deal with these infectious songs! Maybe I could become a super hero for demented mothers or fathers. SUPER CYNICAL MAN to the rescue. Sorry son you're stuck with me now.


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