Blog Post: In The Summertime

[From Our Blog]

New blog post by Michael James Treacy

In The Summertime

In the early seventies,

I had a semi-Afro hairstyle

and a shaggy beard.

.

I thought I looked like

the lead singer of Mungo Jerry

but aspired to be Che Guevara.

.

These days, the beard is trimmed

and a semi-Afro hairstyle

would look silly

with the Sahara desert

running from north to south.

.

At the unisex hairdresser,

a young lady with a lisp,

nose ring and jasmine fragrance

asks me if I want a number one.

.

I tell her to aim for

two point seven five.

.

She chuckles and says

I remind her of her grandfather.

.

Even though it’s summertime,

she’s never heard of Mungo Jerry

and she thinks Che Guevara

is a Spanish chipolata.​

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[Sedayne]

I'll have that song in my head all day now. But that's not necessarily a bad thing.

My husband was in hospital recently and had taken a music biography to read. Plenty of staff asked about the big hardback on his bedside table. It had a striking image of the singer on the cover. Now, hospital staff represent a good cross-section of our society in terms of socio-economic mix and ethnicity, but not one of them had heard of Sammy Davis Jr.

 

[Rich.]

Brilliant poem, Mick! And, Rachel, I hope your husband is doing well.

I'm shocked at the things people don't know, but I suppose I shouldn't be. There's plenty I'm blind to. But I do play stuff to my kids: they know Björk and The Beatles, Primus and Portishead, Faithless and Fats Domino. You get the idea. Their mates think their music taste is weird.