Bella the Celery

Miss Rotherham had some good news. She thought so anyway, as her joy was plain to see when she told us we’d be going to the Central Hall to see the Bela de Csillery orchestra. Excited I was not.

 

As the orchestra warmed up I gave myself a pat on the back for identifying the strings, woodwind, brass and percussion sections. Then, with Bella the Celery conducting, the performance got underway. As accomplished as the musicians undoubtedly were, my interest quickly faded and I slumped in my seat throughout the entire mind-numbing performance. When the ordeal ended I applauded with relief. 

A trip to the pictures was much better.

Planet of the Apes had me spellbound from beginning to end. And the apes had a funny walk, just like Mister Berger.

I wasn’t a fan of The Man from Uncle. Spy stuff didn’t appeal to me. I’d never seen a James Bond film either until Burty talked me into going to see You Only Live Twice. The theme tune wasn’t bad and in one memorable scene someone got shoved into a pool of piranhas, but the rest of it was as boring as Bella the Celery.

My brother Dave got picked for the first year rugby team. Dave was tall, like me, but stronger and less gangly. I was pleased and hopeful for him.

‘Is that who United are playing?’ Raymond Wright asked when he spotted the scrawl inside the back cover of my exercise book. It embarrassed me to explain it was a childish slogan I’d scribbled and not (Estudiantes) the team Manchester United were playing in the World Club Championship.

Kim Weobley, my 3A2 mate, turned up in the craft block wearing a blue jacket-type overall with a damaged logo on the pocket. ‘My brother gave it to me,’ he said. Before I could identify it as a Wall’s overall, as it surely was, a grinning Kim pointed to the logo and said ‘The B is missing.’

In Science, Mister Carroll talked about different types of energy. As usual, I was struggling, but my ears pricked up when he used football to coax an answer from Brian Lack. ‘What do we say of a young footballer who shows a lot of promise? We say he has a lot of… what?’ Mister Carroll inadvertently reached out to me with that one. Potential energy went straight into my memory bank.

The Beatles hit the top of the charts with Hey Jude. Everyone was singing it. Paul Parker was singing it. Clive Ward was singing it. Even Stanley Slaughter was singing it, sort of.

Hey Jude was alright, but I liked Sunshine Girl better.  And the rude version.

Sunshine girl I’m looking down your bra

I see two mountains, I wonder what they are

Do you invite me to hold them tightly?

Not bloody likely, my sunshine girl!