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Thread: Singing

  1. #1
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    Default Singing

    Funny how simple things come back to your mind brought about by a comment or so.

    It was way back in nineteen hundred and frozen to death, that is about 1953 and I was now a secondary school pupil.
    At the Saint Johns campus of the South East London Technical Colledge, where we were to spend the next three years before being mover to the New Cross campus for the last two.

    One of the subjects was French, taught to us by a very nice teacher who unfortunately stuttered rather badly. Learning English from him would have been difficult, learning French was nigh impossible.

    He also once week had us for a music class. Not the sort of class I had anticipated at a Technical School where I was to Study electrical engineering.

    However we had the class such as it was and about November of that year he announced that our school had been invited to put forward a number of male students to sin in St. Paul's Cathedral in a pre Christmas carol performance.

    Eight of us were chosen to sing as we had not gone through the broken voice stage of our lives.

    One of the lads, I well remember his name, Peter Spicer, used to breed small White Mice for a hobby. Told us he sold them to people who had snakes and other animal eating creatures to. Maybe he did but we at that time had no doubt he was true about this.

    Some of the lads wanted some Mice as well. coming up to Christmas they thought they would give them as presents?
    For sixpence you could buy one and the order was for about ten in total.

    The morning of the concert arrived and we were to be taken in a small bus along with our French teacher.

    What Peter was thinking of is still a mystery but he arrived at school with a box containing ten white mice.
    We board the bus along with the box of mice which he said would be fine and he would give them out after the concert on the bus home.

    We arrived and were ushered to our place in the choir where already there were some from other schools including a girls school.

    The concert began and we were going very w ell, into about the third carol when it happened.

    Somehow the box with the mice fell over and the mice of course escaped, scattering all over the place.

    I have never found out why but for some very strange reason small mice and young girls do not mix. Surely something as small as a mouse can do no harm to you?

    The screams we were later told could be heard in Trafalgar Square, the orchestra, much like the one on the Titanic continued to play unaware of the debacle going on.
    The concert came to an abrupt end with young girls weeping and crying about the place.

    We were swiftly ushered away back onto the bus where we were told in no uncertain terms we were in deep do, do.
    Peter was taken to the heads office and told the facts of life, whilst the rest of us were told that we would never be invited to sing again, anywhere, we could not be trusted.

    I often wonder where the Mice ended up?
    Happy daze John in Oz.

    Life is too short to blend in.

    John Strange R737787
    World Traveller

  2. #2
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    Default Re: Singing

    Great story John. I had to read to the end before realising the misspelling in para 5 was perhaps intended as it adds to the story. (This is not a critique)
    Ken T
    R412277

  3. #3
    Keith at Tregenna's Avatar
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    Default Re: Singing

    Ken, noticed a number of male students to sin in St. Paul's Cathedral earlier,
    did raise a giggle.

    Reminds me of a movie from years ago.

    K.

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    Default Re: Singing

    Another true story about a mate of mine and me at it again.

    I was on leave from a Lavender Lady and he Keith my mate who had gone to school with me from P&O, the Chusan at that time I think.
    He had not long got his driving license and owned a Jaguar with a very long bonnet, bit of a Phalic symbol you could say.
    It was a convertable but the top did not work so always down.

    It was Friday and we were in Eltham High Street in South London not far from where we both lived.

    It was a busy time, just after mid-day and housewives all over the place doing the weekly shop.

    Outside of a fruit shop there was a white stick, used to hold up advertising at times from memory. Keith grabbed it and we moved off.
    'What the hell do you want that for' I asked

    We were about 20 meters from the car when Keith put on a pair of sunnies grabbed me by the arm and began to tap on the sidewalk with this bloody stick.

    A couple of ladies moved aside for the ;blind' man and his carer as we moved closer to the car.

    I then suddenly realized what this loony was up to.

    As we got close to the car I lead him off the sidewalk onto the road side of the car.
    A couple of ladies just coming out of a shop took a look as Keith moved closer to the drivers door.

    One stood there with a very quizical look on her face as he opened the door, then she screamed out,
    'But you are blind, you are on the wrong side'.

    Not worried by this he got into the car while I got into the passenger side.
    By this time a few other ladies had gathered about all with odd looks wondering what was going on.

    Keith started the motor as one lady yelled out, 'there is a blind man going to drive a car'.

    As we moved slowly off the side I called out, no worries I will guide him.

    We moved off leaving a group of by now more than a dozen ladies shouting out and wondering what the hell was happening.

    We got a bit up the road, pulled over and went into a pub for a beer.

    We had just finished the pint when a guy came in and said to the barman, some blind lunatic just drove a car up the street.
    The barman just kept pouring no doubt thinking another fancy story.
    We got out and left, around the next corner we had to stop, could not stop laughing.

    But we were young then and game for a bit of fun where we could find it.
    Happy daze John in Oz.

    Life is too short to blend in.

    John Strange R737787
    World Traveller

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