Welcome to the 17th podcast of 2023. On this date, 20th August three things happened of particular note- to me, anyway. In 1908 America’s Great White Fleet arrived in Sydney harbour and was greeted enthusiastically by the locals. This flotilla toured the world from 1907-1909 to make the point that Britannia no longer ruled the waves, but Uncle Sam was now in command. Over a century later it is still the case- no navy and no military force on earth can yet (notice the yet?) outclass America in any arena.
The second event I noted was in 1940 when the Royal Air Force defeated Hitler’s Luftwaffe in the Battle of Britain. What Churchill said then still resonates: Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few. With democracy seemingly in retreat across much of the globe, neo-Nazis rising in influence in many countries, and totalitarian governments in Russia, China and much of the world, who will rally the forces of freedom? Do you see any Churchillian figure on the horizon?
The third event- and this is the one I wish to highlight- leaves the martial grounds of the previous mentions behind and, indeed, is hurtling through interstellar space as I speak. I refer, of course, to 1977 when NASA launched Voyager 2 towards the outer planets. This diminutive spacecraft has performed prodigious feats of planetary exploration under the guidance of dedicated scientists and engineers and represents the best that humanity has to offer.
One of these is Ed Stone, who was the chief scientist at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Lab before he retired last year. He spent over half his life dedicated to the Voyager program overseeing the spacecrafts churn out discovery after discovery as they explored Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. The ingenuity of the Voyager team will ensure power to Voyager 2 until 2026 but, even ingenuity will reach its limits. By the time a successor program gets off the drawing board and off the launchpad it will be 2036 and perhaps by then our AI overlords will have cancelled all the plans of humanity. Wow, that got dark all of a sudden, I hear you exclaim! So, let’s lighten the load by escaping the bonds of earthly gravity with a song about a man who works 9 to 5 driving a rocket ship- you’ll know it when you hear it, I hope. [insert song]
Yes, yes, I have the temerity to cover such a classic by claiming it’s in homage. But I’ve been a fan of Elton John ever since I bought the 45-rpm single Your Song for my fiancée in January 1971. Elton completed his years-long world tour by headlining Glastonbury earlier this year. Like all the old-stagers of my generation, The Who, The Stones, the remaining Beatles, Van Morrison, etc I imagine he will keep on going even if he gives away global touring with all its demands.
Now, to another song that has been downloaded more than a few times, Little Old Wine Drinker Me. I can remember visiting my brother, who was a Vet in West Cork, Ireland, where we always made sure we had an adequate supply of Sherry from the Wood. (Does anyone remember that concoction?) A group of us would play cards, chat, drink wine and listen to records into the early hours of the morning. As was exceedingly common for that era (late 60s-early 70s) the room was wreathed also, in tobacco smoke from the cigarettes, pipes and cheroots on the go. One of our favourite 45s (the vinyl single discs rather than those heavy handguns) was Dean Martin singing this song. It was first released by Charlie Walker in 1966, on the album Wine, Woman & Walker.
The song became a hit when it was released by Robert Mitchum in early 1967, and by Dean Martin later the same year. Like many others, I misunderstood part of section B because I mis-heard it. I rendered I matched the man behind the bar…as I asked the man behind the bar… which makes no sense when you think about it. Jukeboxes are kept out in the general bar area with lights flashing to entice punters- not behind the bar with the bar-tender! I guess I misheard it because I was not familiar with the verb matched in this context.
So, imagine the scene: early evening, the heart-broken narrator is having a few in a bar near where he is staying. Nothing much is going on- certainly, no-one is putting coins into the jukebox, and the barman holds up two bits and offers to match the guy. This involves each person holding a 25-cent coin and slamming it down on the counter. The punter gets to call match or no match. If he wins the match, he gets to put the won coin into the jukebox and play three songs (or, if he’s heart-broken he might want to double the number of sad songs and put his two bits in, too…) Of course, the house always wins- that sly ol’ bartender was going to put a coin into the jukebox, anyway, to liven up the joint!
I’ve loved the song from the moment I heard Dino’s suave delivery. This country-blues gem (clocking in at two and a half minutes) references those part of the US that are part of the country-blues tradition: it also has a broken heart, a train, a bar, rain, and a jukebox. What more could you ask for, apart from a dog and a pick-up truck? (And who’s to say the narrator didn’t drive his beat-up old Ford from Nashville to Chicago with his best friend hanging his muzzle out of the passenger window?) I recorded the song during lockdown in June 2020 for my post A Bit of Banter Episode 116 and reprise it here. [insert song]
Here in the land down under, it is the end of winter- which in Sydney is not too hard to take. I helped out in my local parish by lending a 6mx3m canopy, some tables, and boxes of pandemic bought paperbacks for its annual fete- the first since 2019 when lockdowns constrained life just about everywhere in Australia. Fete derives from the French for festival or feast. In English its first use was by Horace Walpole.
Incidentally, if you are interested in a tragic tale of doomed romance and supernatural horror set in a baroque castle, why not open a book he wrote, The Castle of Otranto, the first gothic novel, published in 1764. He also coined the word serendipity, which means an unplanned, fortunate occurrence or discovery. One of my favourite words, I have applied it on more than a few instances to my own life. I also like his aphorism, This world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel. Fans of the Gothic will feel more than think, wouldn’t you say? The following poem by Shelley,
The Cold Earth Slept Below, is a good example of this, The cold earth slept below;/Above the cold sky shone;/And all around,/With a chilling sound,/From caves of ice and fields of snow/The breath of night like death did flow/Beneath the sinking moon.//The wintry hedge was black;/The green grass was not seen;/The birds did rest/On the bare thorn’s breast,/ Whose roots, beside the pathway track,/Had bound their folds o’er many a crack/Which the frost had made between.//Thine eyes glow’d in the glare/Of the moon’s dying light;/As a fen-fire’s beam/On a sluggish stream/Gleams dimly—so the moon shone there,/And it yellow’d the strings of thy tangled hair,/That shook in the wind of night.//The moon made thy lips pale, beloved;/ The wind made thy bosom chill;/The night did shed/On thy dear head/Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie/Where the bitter breath of the naked sky/Might visit thee at will.
To conclude this post, I offer this original effort called Fete. I like the ambiguity of the homophone and borrow from Christina Rossetti’s Gothic poem, Goblin Market, for some of the imagery. [insert song]
Of course, our parish fete was not a Gothic horror scene. Far from it, it was a congenial gathering of the community. But writer’s make use of any material lying to hand, don’t they? And so, we leave the parish fete and head out towards the antepenultimate post (or third-last if you prefer two syllables rather than six!) Along the way may I caution you about buying candied apples from little old men emanating a faintly sulphurous smell? G. K. Chesterton opined, children are innocent and love justice while most of us are wicked and naturally prefer mercy! Caveat emptor you know, let the buyer beware. But also note, caveat auditor-don’t believe everything you hear. I was going to say more but then came across this epigram, to be kind be quiet.
Rocket Man ( Music Elton John lyrics Bernie Taupin)
She packed my bags last night pre-flight
Zero hour, nine AM
And I’m gonna be high as a kite by then
I miss the earth so much, I miss my wife
It’s lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
‘Til touch down brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no, I’m a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
‘Til touch down brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no, I’m a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids
In fact it’s cold as hell
And there’s no one there to raise them if you did
And all this science I don’t understand
It’s just my job five days a week
A rocket man, a rocket man
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
‘Til touch down brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no, I’m a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
‘Til touch down brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no, I’m a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time…
Little Old Wine Drinker, Me ( words and music Hank Mills and Dick Jennings)
I’m praying for rain in California
So the grapes can grow and they can make more wine
And I’m sitting in a honky in Chicago
With a broken heart and a woman on my mind
I matched the man behind the bar for the jukebox
And the music takes me back to Tennessee
And they asked who’s the fool in the corner crying
I say a little ole wine drinker me
I came here last week from down in Nashville
‘Cause my baby left for Florida on a train
I thought I’d get a job and just forget her
But in Chicago, the broken heartache’s still the same
I matched the man behind the bar for the jukebox
And the music takes me back to Tennessee
When they ask who’s the fool in the corner crying
I say a little ole wine drinker me
I say a little ole wine drinker me
Fete (words and music by Quentin Bega)
The winter sun is shining down the flyers out about the town
And now the parish fete has set its wares- the people wait
The wonders that they all will see on tables and stands almost for free
There are plants in pots with macramé knots to hang about verandas plain
There are books and prints and paintings wrought and curios for you to claim
Laura and her sister Kate are laughing as they pass the gate
Revealing tables under shade with a dazzling range of goods displayed
They agree to meet under the ghost gum at the hour of half past one
Laura likes exotic trinkets Kate want to taste the range of sweets on show
And so they part exploring what the fete will reveal to them in store
In a shadowed corner a man sets up his stall
Baskets of strange-shaped fancies seem beckoning to all
But where are all the people the silence like a pall
Shrouds the magic table as incense rises and falls
Here comes Kate with a coin
Eager the little man to join
Laura checks her ticking watch the time to meet has come and gone
Where is my flighty sister now I’ll go to seek her out somehow
My mum will give me living hell if I can’t find her I can tell
And so she starts her searching calling sister as she goes
Ahead she sees a shimmer like nothing that she knows
Through the magic curtain steps Laura as she sees
Her sister reaching for a candied apple from the stall
Don’t you dare Kate your sweet tooth will surely be your death
Don’t object come with me now- you should save you breath
Little did she realise the truth
The horror she saved her sister from in sooth
The little man hissed as they left his quota now will be one less
The gentle soul he missed today will count against him I would say
Among the council of the damned others like that evil man
But Laura and her sister Kate oblivious of that looming fate
Laugh and sing as they are passing through the parish gate
Yes Laura and her sister Kate oblivious of that looming fate
Laugh and sing as they are passing through the parish gate
Credits: All written text, song lyrics andmusic (including background music) written and composed by Quentin Bega unless otherwise specified in the credits section after individual posts. Illustrative excerpts from other texts identified clearly within each podcast. I donate to and use Wikipedia frequently as one of the saner sources of information on the web.
Technical Stuff: Microphone- Shure SM58; (for the podcast spoken content) Audio Technica AT 2020 front-facing with pop filter); Apogee 76K also used for songs and spoken text. For recording and mixing down: 64-bit N-Track Studio 9 Extended used; Rubix 22 also used for mixing of microphone(s) and instruments. I use the Band in a Box/RealBand 2023 combo for music composition.
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