30 August 2015

So much trouble in the world, yet programmes like X-factor return. The usual screaming voices singing songs without melody.  Where was the exquisite Sinatra phrasing, the Fitzgerald soul, the charisma?  I listened in vain. In the '50s my mother would drag me to distant cinemas showing Al Jolson in the Jolson Story. Electricity crackled when he sang.  A few evenings ago we went to the Abbeye in Gaillac. Our friend, professional singer Martin St. Martin, gave a 'Sous les Etoiles du Tarn' concert organised by Entente Cordiale in support of cancer research. The setting was lovely, high above the tinkling waters of the Tarn. A full moon gave a rosy glow to the ancient pink brick buildings, but it was the music that enthralled.  Martin even dedicated one song to me, the one that turns my knees to jelly:  '...wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you....'  Now there's a melody. Even Him indoors liked it, and he's difficult to please. And then Piaf's La Vie en Rose. Wonderful. A message for Mr. Cowell:  stop pandering to youth's foolish notion of stardom. Find the next Jolson/Sinatra/Presley/Piaf. Now that's what a lot of us want to hear.

22nd October 2008

This week a new phrase has entered the French vocabulary - la semaine bleue. What is it? It seems that it's a new French initiative to celebrate the burgeoning numbers of retired and senior citizens. I'm not sure about the 'blue' part though; reminds me of all those blue rinses back home. But, on the whole, I'm all in favour of recognising this sizeable part of the population. In our village, the local seniors' club, V.A.L. Joyeux, decided to celebrate this annual weekly event, naming its 2008 theme Jeunes et vieux, connectez vous. Good idea, but in practice the only youngsters connecting with the old at yesterday's celebration were the waiters! It was a jolly meal though. I always enjoy these kind of events, with lots of small courses so that if you don't care for one of them, you just wait awhile, and sure enough another comes along - just like the buses back home really. The wine was readily replenished all afternoon, literally keeping him indoors' spirits up. And, la creme de la creme is always the entertainment. There was one singer, in particular. She wasn't much to look at - tiny, rotund, with grey hair - but her voice! It was Edith Piaf all over again. Merveillaise. It made me wonder what would've happened if she'd walked onto the X-Factor stage in London. Would they have dismissed her out of hand merely by how she looked? That's really why I like writing: because most people don't get to see what you look like, talent might just out in the end. Chance for me yet then.