Edition 55: "For those about to ROCK...."

Negative Soundbyters! – a hearty good evening to you all! In true Christmas fashion there is a bowl of Quality Streets to the right of my keyboard and a large Glenlivet single malt whiskey to the left. No bottles of soda water in sight! This is usually a Sunday missive, but my parents arrived yesterday to enjoy Christmas together – and to see their grandson for the first time! Rafe certainly did not disappoint. He took to both his grandparents like the proverbial duck to water and was quite happy to be held by his Granny (he prefers that!) and together they inspected every decoration on Mrs H’s not insubstantial Christmas tree. Rafe’s usual stamp of approval is if he can fit it in his mouth, but for obvious reasons glass reindeer and crystal stars were verboten, but he gurgled happily and gesticulated fiercely when Granny drew his attention to a decoration that tickled his fancy.

Speaking of the tree for a moment; and I am sure it is a point that I made in a post this time last year – but it is a thing of beauty. My old man has commended Mrs H now on more than one occasion on what a spectacular tree it is. I think it is even more perfect than last year with my contribution being exactly as it was last year (and all the years before that) – to carry it up the street on my shoulder and into the house, make sure it is stable and then move to a safe distance and allow the Christmas tree impresario the space – and time – to decorate it. It is a precise and somewhat painstaking job; especially if the Christmas lights get tangled up – because it means me unravelling about a kilometre of wire (about the only other job I am entrusted with when it comes to the Hodson Family Christmas Tree).

We both wonder how this tradition will be impacted when the little man is mobile. I once witnessed one of my friend’s young sons leap onto their Christmas tree from a couch that was situated nearby - it didn’t end well for the parties concerned (and I include the tree in that collective!) It is tricky to child proof; I could put a barrier around it but toddlers are cunning and I get the sense that Rafe will do whatever it takes to get his hands – and mouth – onto anything that sparkles and dangles. Mrs H tabled giving up the tree. I was like “No Sir” we are having a tree - even if it is a hologram!

Events of geopolitical significance to report:

In the Motherland the ANC has just elected a new party president – Cyril Ramaphosa. He beat No 1’s ex-wife, Mrs No 1, to the top spot. He is viewed by many as a reformer and not likely to be tempted to feather his own nest, having made billions in his days profiting from black economic empowerment deals. However the ANC is a vipers nest and Jay Zee is still South Africa’s President (with all the organs of power still at his disposal) so there is no doubt that Cyril will have his work cut out for him as he attempts to mend the damage inflicted on the nation by No 1 and all his cronies. The country is due some festive cheer……

And on that positive note let’s move on.

Big Love to All….

Hoddy X

Singing.

I am the first to admit that I was not blessed with any choral capabilities whatsoever. I managed to scrape my way through the school choir and even put in the odd appearance for our local church as a young lad, but it was crystal clear that my voice would always battle to find a tune, no matter how hard I tried to imitate Bono or Mick Jagger.

Karaoke has been an alternative outlet, usually alcohol induced, but when there are no inhibitions that’s when the magic happens. It does not mean that I become any more tuneful, but God loves somebody who tries and I never fail to disappoint. I grip the microphone (which is sometimes a wooden spoon if it’s at a house party in front of Youtube!) with rock star panache; I prance across the lounge floor in front of my imaginary audience; and I lift my lungs to ever greater heights while keeping one eye on the ball that bounces across the top of the lyrics to make sure I don’t miss a beat! For that moment I am Axel Rose in front of a packed out stadium, drowning in all the adulation. And then the song ends and I hand the wooden spoon over to the next person.

Just recently I have found a new audience; Rafe Hodson.

I think when I first started firing up a few vocals Rafe was sceptical – like so many before him. He would look at me in a quizzical fashion as if to say: “New Dad why are you making those sounds?” but I feel like I am finally winning him over.

I think it is my rendition of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” that he enjoys the best, especially when Mrs H and I perform a duet as we dry him off after his bath. I don’t think that it would work on any other human being on earth (it’s not your classic spa accompaniment), but it relaxes him and prepares him for bedtime.

It’s at this point that I sometimes have to dig deep into my repertoire, because Rafe likes to give me a run for my money when it comes to sleepy times. I find that humming works best (not least because I struggle remembering the words to the French National Anthem); and often I will have melodically worked my way through my school song, Amazing Grace, both the French and South African national anthems, a jumble of impromptu ensembles, and most likely back to my school song before Rafe succumbs and starts snoring softly on my shoulder.

I know that he is a succour for punishment because sometimes he wakes up when I am putting him down and I must start all over again! It’s not something I would wish on my worst enemy, but Rafe has the air raid siren to fall back on if necessary – and that makes my vocals pale into insignificance when it comes to making an impact on one’s eardrums. Mick-Ozzy-Axel-and-co would be proud!

OUT :)

Pic of the Week:

The words say it all....