12 November 2010

VAL*

You couldn't invent it - well, I could but it'd read as if I'd made it up.

Nervous sweet young thang, daughter of grandee pals of mater, comes round to view jardin and felled tree and simper before maman.

She is the disturbing double of Wynona Thingie so I am of course dancing attendance but her attention is on keeping in with Dragon Lady.

Lunch! And I help set the table and suggest a way of her sucking up even further by choosing music that maman adores.

There is an album on my hard drive of a bland violin/squeezebox duo who've visited and played here and is a fave of mater's - 'Valenki'.

I send her off to put it on and assure her that when the first strains float from the speakers, Mum will turn admiringly from the stove, "Louisa! My favourite!".

She cannot find it. She is a woman, can't hack these simple 'puter chores.

"It's called 'Valenki'. Type in Val and it'll take you there."

"Got it!"

I am setting the doilies and polishing the fish knives when THE most horrific sound pumps from the salon.

I am well distant from the crime. I shrug at the maternal frown as Maman bends back to her tasks. Had it been me ... poh poh.

I take L back to the puter and ask her what went wrong. We punch in 'Val' and lo and behold, first up is Death Valley Blues and beneath it as 2nd choice, vanilla Valenki.

I punch in the fiddle/accordion and save the day.

All is well because, as I explain to Louisa over the amuses-bouche, 'Hooker' Jim Potts is a local lad Mum sampled for a one-night peruse and has since been 'in bed with' [her words] for the past weeks, reading every word.

Quite right, too.

Mum to Number 1 son: "This is riveting. Have you read it?"

Son: "Mum, it was my review that got you interested inna first place.

M: "I know. All I'm asking is if you've read it."

Commentaria

'High noon here in Corfu, long chain on, garden slog,
Crickets burnin', skai o zizika, me on jardinerie jog, [lawd have mercy]
Where dat water boy? Where Jimmy Potts?
He's out there on the run, hi-jacking my good ol' blog'

Just to show no hard feelings, crank the volume and cue this strummer's Tubular U

4 comments :

Corfu Bluesman said...

You know how to keep a reader glued to the page!

My love to Maman.

Sorry about the song.

Don't put it on repeat.

The Son of Hook.

Corfu Bluesman said...

On further reflection, and in the interests of good marketing, please advise your many thousands of fans and readers to check out the cinemascope version on YouTube's MrHighway49

MrHighway49

MrHighway49

Well alright!

Is that called Blog Hijacking?

Corfucius said...

ah but no! i now know how to screw the toadies' pitch.

achtung: mum plans a dinner with you 2 and the vicar and some other safe pair of hands.

"Jim, why dont you look after the muzak as i get the booze. just punch in Val and hit play, mater adores it"

"caint catch me that way, boy"

vicar: "here, i know how these things work ... let me. there we go."

glacial look from maman as the speakers pump.

Holmes and the Hook exchange tsks: 'caint take these curés anywhere'

Corfu Bluesman said...

Glad to be of service...but I'm in rain-swept England. Will give me time to practise some gospel numbers and put the Devil's music behind me.