melodious timpanies

 

Sitting in a cafe about 5pm as the shades of evening engulf Main Street.

A thought strikes me.

What day is this?

It can't be Christmas day.

That was a few weeks ago and I distinctly remember shouting "bah humbug" at a passing Clarke to mark the occasion.

But there's something.

I check the date on my mobile phone.

Good heavens.

It's my birthday.

"No one remembered my birthday," I murmur, "not even me."

I find the elegaic self pity so delightful that I cannot help smiling.

The ghost of Frank Sinatra appears by my table and begins singing his classic version of Evin Drake's classic song thusly:

"When I was 17

It was a very good year

A very good year for small town girls

And soft Summer nights

We'd hide from the lights

On village greens

When I was 17

Ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

When I was 21

It was a very good year

A very good year for city girls

Who lived up the stairs

With all that perfumed hair

And it came undone

When I was 21

Ner ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

When I was 35

It was a very good year

A very good year for blue blooded girls of independent means

We'd ride in limousines

Their chauffeurs would drive

When I was 35

Ner ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

But  now the days are short

I'm in the Autumn of the year

And now I think of my life as fine old wine

From vintage kegs

From the brim to the dregs

It poured sweet and clear

It was a very good year

Ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner."

It's an evocative song by anyone's lights really.

Poignancy that's what it's got.

Particularly the nerdle ner bits.

And Frank Sinatra sings it like no one else could.

Still I couldn't resist making a few wry comments to the ghost of that same Frank Sinatra.

"Thanks for the thought but it's not really a great song for my birthday," I said tongue in cheek. "For a start you seem to have spent every period of your life womanising. Mine was a bit less action packed. By the way, what did Mia  Farrow, Ava Gardner, Barbara Marx and Nancy Barbato, your wives I mean, think of all those girls? Or were your wives the girls? Anyway the song could do with a few larfs. I thought you should have put in a lyric to rhyme with the blue blooded girls in limousines along the lines of 'this bit gets obscene.' And I can't help feeling sorry for the poor chauffeurs. Also the part about dregs you could have had a rhyme there with something like 'she had magnificent legs.' Don't get me wrong. These are mere quibbles. To be honest I liked it a lot."

"You think you could do better?" asked Frank Sinatra sharpish.

"Well if I was doing a novelty music video in aid of charity," I mused thoughtfully, "I'd play it for laughs. I'd dress as Frank Sinatra. So it's intended to reference your life rather than mine.  Let's see. How would it go."

I sang to the ghost of Frank Sinatra in the cafe as follows.

"When I was 17

I joined a very good mafia

We'd shoot ya or beat ya

Just to have a laugh at ya

Dealing drugs, controlling prostitutes and all manner of evil things

We called it Cosa Nostra

And we wore diamond rings

When I was 17

Ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

When I was 21

We assassinated a very good American President

On behalf of a Don

Who was working for the Russians

The commies wanted it done

When I was 21

Ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

When I was 35

Our gang really began to thrive

Shipping heroin all over the world

Like ants in a bee hive

We were men of means

We rode in limousines

It was all so obscene

And all the junkies died

When I was 35

Ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

Frank Frank hey Frank where are you going?"

But the ghost of Frank Sinatra had left the building

Alone once more amid the crowd of evening cafe quaffers, I crooned a little ditty just for myself.

It went:

"When I was oh about 10

I had a very good hen

Her name was Mildred

And she came with a bunch of her kindred

To lay eggs by the hundred

We'd have to search in the hay to find them

When I was in or around 10

Ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

When I was 17

I had a sheepdog called Jess

She had one foible which I must confess

She liked to bite my cousin Vinnie

Because she thought he was a ninnie

The dog biting my cousin was a regularly recurring comic scene

When I was 17

Ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

When I was 33

I found a wild dog called Glen

Who was all but unreachable for other men

But he became my friend

And gilded my life

We'd visit lonely people at night

The wild old wolf had become so kind

And he'd bring joy to me

When I was 33

Ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

When I was 42

I had a hamster called Hammy

She would never bite

Even if my fingers were jammy

Love in a species of rat was an unexpected feature

But there was such dignity in the creature

And once she helped a sad child discover the goodness of life too

I saw it happen

It's really true

When I was 42

Ner ner ner ner ner

Ner ner nerdle nerdle ner

Now as Winter gets near

Let's not go crazy here

I insist it's still as much Summer

As any other time of year

For every season has Summer in it

Since God put us here

And Spring Summer Autumn Winter

Mystically understood

Every year is good

Yes every year is a very good year

A very good year"