Drone

Today

Anxious about whether my throat  would be equal to the demands of the weekend at Halsway, I tried a few notes out this morning in bed. "You've made me lose my place!" complained Paul. "What?" I demanded "You were only saying "doo-be-doo"." "I was singing Saint-Seans Symphony number 3", he replied with dignity "didn't you recognise it?"

"Well, I know that we can all expect there to be similarities between our husband and our father," I said "but a tendency to drone classical symphonies tunelessly wasn't wasn't on the list."

In My Day

Given Daddy's rocky start in life, it's amazing that he had such developed tastes in classical music. He always said that he learnt about music in the evening classes given by the Society of Friends which is where he spent his evenings during his late teens.

But a general liking for popular classics is one thing and not uncommon, but Daddy knew enough to start up and run the Henry Wood Gramophone Circle, preparing, with Mamma's help, challenging and interesting programmes. He loved opera and we had many opportunities to see them.

His love for music ran very deep and I think that he always went about with a tune in his head. Sometimes he just had to share. "This has been in my head all morning!" he's say, excitedly "Guess what it is?" He would launch into a tuneless mixture of las, doo-be-doos and other noises. "Hmm," we'd say, trying to take him seriously "a bit more? Nope! We give up!" "It's the Beethoven 6th, second movement," he'd cry triumphantly, as though he'd caught us out in a gross piece of musical ignorance. I'm not sure if any of us had the courage to tell him how different the tune in his head was from the tune on his lips.

Sometimes he loved the music so much that his droning was accompanied with a gush of tears, which didn't help us to recognise Scheherazade....

When he sang music hall songs to us, the tunes were much more recognisable, maybe because they were simpler.

On reflection, I think it's better to go about with a beautiful tune in your head and heart, even if you can't sing, than to have no music in your spirit. I just wish the Society of Friends had taught him to sing!