ic/ac/dc

ic/ac/dc

There comes a time in a man’s life when he has to take stock. He has to weigh up the important against the irrelevant. Sort the treasured loving memories from the one night stands.

Problem is, some of my most treasured memories are one night stands! Thanks ladies. I will never forget you. We were good together…all three of us.

In the hunt for that one elusive memory I could delve into my childhood, and tell tales of tree huts and footballs. Or I could write prose about walks along the beach with my ball and ch… I mean beautiful wife. I could tell about bearing witness to the miracle of childbirth, a brand new person with their own little thoughts and feelings and dirty bum.

But I am feeling rather sentimental this evening. There are just some things which money can’t buy. Things that come along once in a lifetime. Some things you have to grab with both hands, and lift high up onto shoulders to become one, girating, shaking, hand in the air, head banging creature of rock!

Lifting my wife onto my shoulders at a rock concert was a thing I hadn’t done in nearly twenty years. But it had to be done. This was AC/DC. The greatest rock band of all time, bar  none.

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As a boy, they were the one band for whom I would have gladly sacrificed my grandparents to watch play live in concert. My lifelong ambition was fulfilled in 2009. My grandparents had long since died of natural causes.

The shivers were running down my spine when Angus was doing his famous guitar solo during ‘Let there be rock’….so I had to put her down.

Seriously though. I don’t usually go overly sentimental on things but these guys sound better in person than on the radio or earphones. They take rock music and make it appealing to everybody. In fact, if your head doesn’t fall off  whilst listening to the song I’ve included, then check yourself for a pulse.

I will always treasure that evening in 2009. I was a schoolboy once again. With a 38 year old school girl on my shoulders. And a whole lot of woman she was!

Sorry darling, I meant a slight woman.

Thank you for rocking,

Frankie.

In response to http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/25/prompt-moments-to-remember/

 

Manly music

Manly music

Three little songs:

My earliest memory of music in my family home is this song.

I was the middle son of three boys. All under the age of ten. We each took turns at recording ourselves singing this song into a cassettte recorder. It was mid seventies Ireland and cassettes were cutting edge technology. The novelty of playing back the recordings to each hear how we sounded was a thrill I will treasure.

I guess it was our daddy or a school teacher, or both, who taught it, I don’t remember learning it. But I have known this song, by heart, since I could string a sentence together. True! It’s such a graphic story of an Irish harp. It still sends shivers of pride down my spine.

Next up is a guy whose ‘Best of..’ cassette was played everywhere by my father. Even in the car. It was the soundtrack to every journey. So much so that I developed an Italian/Donegal accent for a few years.

Until just now (watching this video) I believed his duet partner was a boy. My mother told us it was a little Italian shepherd boy. And we bought it! All three of us trying to outdo each other in the back seat with our Tenor talents.

The testosterone of the next song is off the scale. These guys were heroes wherever they went. Needless to say my brothers and I could sing their songs in our sleep. I think this may have been the song that taught me what a happy marriage is all about…”Upon my knee a pretty wench and on the table a jug of punch.”

Those are the songs of my childhood.

Thank you for listening

Frankie.

In response to daily prompt http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/20/daily-prompt-papa-loves-mambo/