You All Know the
Songs
by Oonah V
Joslin
The pub was
hushed for the final question, twenty tables with
people holding their breath - exchanging
conspiratorial glances.
Poomph-poomph-eeeik…Poomph. The
Quiz Master tapped on the mic to make sure it
hadn’t gone to sleep between questions.
“What was the name,” he intoned,
“of the man….” he paused,
“who wrote the lyri…,” he eeked it
all out with a practiced sense of audience
anticipation, “to over twenty popular hit
songs including…”
You could hear
a pin drop at this stage in the proceedings. Five
pounds a table, twenty tables – it
wasn’t the money, it was the principle.
“Teddy
Bears’ Picnic, We’re Going to Hang Out
the Washing on the Siegfried Line, Harbour Lights
and South of the Border.”
“I know this one,” insisted
Murray McGrath. “Just give us a
minute…” He supped at his
‘Bud’ and then went into ‘information
retrieval mode,’ which basically meant
his eyes glazed over and everybody could see
he’d already forgotten what the question was.
Luckily the Quiz Master repeated each question,
as was customary, even more ponderously than
before.
“It’s
obviously an American song writer,”
whispered Vincent O’Kane. Irving Berlin
– one of that lot. Siobhan, you’re
musical…”
“It’s hardly on a par with
‘Strawberry Fields’ or ‘Eleanor
Rigby’, now is it?” she said, “and
if you want my opinion, anybody that had anything
to do with Teddy Bears’ Picnic deserves to
be forgotten!”
“Aye, and this is going way back
before any of us would remember,”
added Jimmy Kennedy. “He’s giving the
older folk an unfair advantage.”
“On the other hand how many of them would
have known Beyonce?” said Brian Bagley.
“Shushhh – you eegit! Tables have ears!”
“It’s on the tip of me
tongue…” said Murray, emerging from
semi-trance and swilling ‘It’
down with another slurp from the bottle.
“I’ll
give you three minutes more,” said the QM,
“before we collect the sheets.”
“Another clue!” shouted table 14 in
unison followed by a harmonious, surround-sound
ripple of approval.
“Okay… This person also wrote… the
lyrics to… Kitty of Coleraine…
and… Hokey Cokey.”
Siobhan rolled her eyes. “Impressive! God,
have you ever heard the like?”
“Hold the bus a minute – why would some
American write a song about Coleraine?”
Brian specialised in such insights though he
never knew the answers.
“True. He must have been local...”
“I’ve got it!” said Murray.
“It was that sailsman.”
They looked at him daft.
“No, it was a ly-ric-ist!, Murray – not
a salesman,” said Siobhan. “Would
somebody get him a brain?”
“I’m telling you, I have it! He was
from Portstewart. There’s that thing
at the seafront – about the Red Sails song.”
“Red Sails in the Sunset! Dear heavens.
Murray’s right so he is,” said Vincent.
“What was his name, now – think man!”
“I’m doing me best but it was a really
ordinary name. It was my Granny’s
favourite song and I bet even she didn’t
know it, it was that ordinary. Like - it
could have been… any one of us!”
“Come on!”
said the Quiz Master, “you all know the
songs…”
“Just write down any old name,
Jimmy. Your own!”
“Right
– Time’s up!”
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