An old Ode to the father of them all
September 4, 2015
Searching for a work document on an old memory stick, I came across this Ode that I wrote for Dad’s 80th birthday back in 2003. My sister and I performed it together at a party she organised and hosted for him at her home. We took alternate verses and I think he loved it. Not quite up to his inimitable standard and style, but imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and he loved a bit of adulation.
The evening went on with a cracking poem from our son – playing on his Grandfather’s embracing of computers despite his advancing years, and then a fabulous, well rehearsed song and dance from the granddaughters to an Abba classic -Mamma Mia I think. His genes coming out in all of us in one way or another. Still miss him.
As ever – the standard caveats apply to my Odes – there are in jokes that make no sense to anyone else and you sometimes have to work hard to get the rhyme and rhythm correct. But they’re usually alright on the night!
ODE ON THE OCCASION OF RICHARD’S EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY
So here we are in Crackley Lane,
On a night we’ll all remember,
To celebrate our Father’s birth,
A few years ago in November.
He didn’t sparkle much at school,
Outshone by little sis,
But he could make a damn good bow,
By soaking sticks in p***
Then College for a little while,
More union work than courses
But then they knew what lay ahead –
They signed up for the forces
The Navy served our Father well –
And he rose beyond a rating,
He loved the Naval life it seems –
To have an audience-in–waiting
For here it was the seed was sown,
The obsession with oration,
He’d raise a toast or make a speech
And get well deserved ovation
And so through Aber second time,
Then Chester when he’s thirty
And didn’t he think his ship was in
When he met the Flatmates Flirty.
As actors both they played their parts
I’d say there were none greater
Our mother in the leading role
And him, behind, a waiter
But all that was rehearsal,
For his biggest greatest part
As husband, father and now Taid,
Who we love with all our heart.
He is certainly a one-off
For which they broke the mould,
But we wouldn’t want it otherwise-
He’s worth his weight in gold.
The awful jokes, bad manners,
Never listens when you speak,
Asks questions with no answers
Drives us mad and makes us weak.
But he gives us entertainment,
A rich and varied life,
So here’s to Dad at eighty,
And who got him here – his wife