I’d not intended to put pen to paper today, or should that font to virtual paper? However, as I’ve an hour to kill before the bus transporting me to Fuerteventura airport arrives, I thought I’d utilise the time productively… Well, if writing these unreliable essays can be classed as productive.
GJ Strachan’s last night in the resort of Jandia saw him take the stage to belt out a version of the ELO classic Mr Blue Sky. Only the cosmopolitan audience could tell you if I did lead singerJeff Lynn’s polished original justice. However, I take the fact there wasn’t a mass exodus of guests and no one in the crowd feigning a bilious attack mid-song as positive signs.
Karaoke is a relatively new participation ‘sport’ for yours truly. I’d like to think I’ve an ok singing voice; in fact one ex-work colleague once went as far as complimenting my tenor tones by commenting “You are not as s***e at singing as I thought you’d be, Gary!”… Glowing feedback by anyones standards.
That being said, pre-heart attack in 2019 when I only left my comfort zone for toilet visits me singing a song solo in front of a crowd would’ve been unthinkable. You may posit that trips to the toilet can hardly be classed as venturing from your comfort zone… Trust me, though, they can be pretty traumatic tarries. Especially if I’ve had a curry the previous evening when it’s not unknown for even the air freshener spray to dash from the bathroom!
Anyway, enough of the inappropriate potty patter… Get back on track, Gary!
My crooning efforts yesterday evening proved a good tonsil warming practise for my sister Helen’s 50th birthday party at the weekend. A knees up which I am led to believe includes a karaoke. My sis no doubt preparing to belt out her’ go to’ party song of Hey Big Spender.
Although my brother Ian and me are decent enough warblers, our Helen is the most accomplished in front of the mic. Her singing skills utilised on several occasions in choirs and (when younger) Am dram… Incidentally, Helen’s choice of Big Spender will be in no way reflective of our Ian’s behaviour when it comes to bar visits… The tight get!!
As I start this segment of the narrative I have just arrived at the airport after a 1.5 hour transfer from my hotel. On the journey up, as we passed a retail park a few miles from my current location I was intrigued by the name of a shop titled Hiperjuggette… The schoolboy in me pondering whether this quirkily named outlet was a walk-in centre who provide breast augmentation.
Just prior to leaving the hotel an elderly lady approached me to ask if I was the guy who got up singing in last night’s karaoke. When I confirmed I was that chap she responded “You were very good!”… It appears my singing does, at the very least, appeal to the blue rinse brigade.
I now know how Irish crooner, and darling of ladies in their dotage, Daniel O’Donnell must feel… Is that the sound of knitting needles creating me an arran sweater I can hear?!
