The Guli Guli Church

Posted on September 9, 2008 by Hails

On Saturday I took a trip to Haarlem with Tobias and Claudia, my Noordwijk dorm friends.

What a gorgeous place. It’s like stepping back in time! I said in wonder, as we walked past canals and through the old streets lined with thatched cottages and majestic churches. We found ourselves inside the most beautiful church I’ve ever seen, where the lady at the entrance told us that we were welcome to come back for a special service with the choir later on.

I’ve never experienced a church service quite like it. A large part of this is probably due to the fact that it was in Dutch and therefore made no sense whatsoever to me. But it was so much fun! We found ourselves laughing along with the rest of the congregation, not understanding the jokes but genuinely appreciating the humorous tone and warm expressions.

The church was absolutely enormous, so the sound of the four part choral harmony was a treat for the ears as the voices soared and mingled to fill every inch of the building. Abba, Vader was particularly moving. I closed my eyes and let the voices wash over me in the familiar tune; opening them again, I realised that my companions were doing the same thing. The serious pieces were followed by a bouncy rendition of Jacob’s Ladder (in English, so we could sing along with less confusion than during the opening hymn – although I must say that the three of us gave that a fairly admirable attempt, too!), towards the end of which a few choir members started spontaneously clapping. Before long, everyone was doing the same. There was swaying and dancing, smiling and clapping. You couldn’t help but smile and clap along.

The pièce de résistance, however, was the rather bizarre finale:

I have no idea why. Even more amusing was the fact that it was kind of like “rounds”, with the choir breaking into A Ram Sam Sam* as the rest of us sang Pease Pudding. It did not fit at all with the rest of the songs, and yet it blended perfectly into the fun-filled atmosphere. We loved it!

Leaving the church, Claudia and I happily hummed Jacob’s Ladder. An elderly bearded man in a suit was walking behind us, and he interrupted us when we got out on to the street. Excuse me, he asked politely and seriously, you did see the choir? We nodded. And, he continued in earnest tones, may I ask did you like?

Oh, yes, we chorused happily, it was fantastic!

The old man smiled in delight. Then I am happy! he said proudly. He gave us a gracious little bow, and walked away looking pleased, singing softly to himself.

* I don’t know if it’s just me, but when I hear “A ram sam sam, a ram sam sam, guli guli guli guli guli ram sam sam” my brain automatically launches into an immediate “McDonald’s, McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken and the Pizza Hut!”. Which only made things even stranger, really…

Filed under: church, culture, day trip, foreign languages, friends, fun, Holland, humour, laughter, lyrics, singing, songs, strange | Leave a Comment »

Come and give me your hand…

Posted on June 28, 2008 by Hails

Dudes. I fear I’m, like, regressing to my Hippie years.

I really hope I’m not becoming one of those characters who go travelling in a depressing attempt to ‘find’ themselves. I’m not lost. I’m right here, and I know who I am. Maybe it’s more a case of my gradual realisation of how much more there is for me to learn about the world, mixed with my glee and enthusiasm at finally having broken out of my self-imposed boredom.

Whatever the reason, I find myself increasingly filled with a desire to dance when I listen to my current favourite song – New Soul by Yael Naim. Not only is it refreshing to hear a song that doesn’t feel the need to be about love, angst, heartbreak and yearning, but the song’s lilting, joyful melody just bubbles over with excitement and, well… freedom.

I’m a new soul,
I came to this strange world,
Hoping I could learn a bit ’bout how to give and take.
But since I came here, felt the joy and the fear,
Finding myself making every possible mistake…

While not overlooking the potential for mistakes, problems, difficulties and pain, it paints a beautiful picture of life as a journey of discovery and – wait for it – fun!

Fun. Throwing caution to the wind, dancing with wild abandon, digging holes on the beach, hopping on a plane to a strange land, standing in the middle of a cheering crowd at a festival, hanging out with friends, embracing the unexpected, laughing until your tummy hurts, lurching unsteadily on a shuddering tram, delighting in the unusual, travelling light, trying things like wild boar and roasted elk, and watching the sun rise over the sea.

The song’s video captures its spirit, and I’ve watched it over and over again. I never tire of seeing the girl’s fleeting glimpses of the fun and excitement that lurks just outside the walls of her confined space, where she spends so much time trying to paint a true picture of the outside world. I love the moment when she suddenly realises that she can push down the walls, and finds herself out in the open, with the world at her feet. The pause in the music as she gazes around in awe is followed by smiling, exuberant dancing, clapping, splashing, singing, laughing and pure joy as she celebrates her freedom.

Erm. Don’t know where all that came from. I could’ve just said, “Here, watch this video, it’s class!” and left it at that, but that wouldn’t really be me, now, would it?

Filed under: contemplation, fun, happy, laughter, life, lyrics, singing, songs, travel | 4 Comments »

It means I have issues with my father

Posted on April 12, 2008 by Hails

“Want a chocolate brownie?” calls The Sister from the kitchen.

“No, thanks,” I reply after the necessary moment of serious contemplation that the question requires.

The Sister appears in the living room and looks intently at me. “Are you OK?”

“Eh? Yes, I think so,” I say somewhat uncertainly, wondering if she knows something I don’t. There is a concerned expression on her face as she licks chocolate from a large knife in a very unsafe manner.

“You refused chocolate,” she says by way of explanation. “And I don’t know if you remember, but you did the exact same thing the day before yesterday. Are you sure you’re alright? Is there anything you want to talk about? Are you ill? Do you have any issues you need to discuss?”

She is beginning to scare me. I thought I was OK, but she paints an alarming picture. There are, perhaps, too many deeply insightful people in my life. Suddenly, the refusal of a chocolate brownie reveals layers of emotional trauma of which I was previously unaware.

And on a vaguely related note, I found this clip whilst browsing silly YouTube videos with Dirk the other night, and I fear that my resulting hysterical laughter may indicate severe mental issues. Perhaps, when all is said and done, I am as complicated as a cucumber.

Filed under: chocolate, confusion, conversations, friends, laughter, mental health, sheer silliness, singing, talking cucumber, weird | 5 Comments »

I saw three angles, of that I’m sure…

Posted on April 3, 2008 by Hails

I was sent this yesterday, by someone who clearly understands my love for and appreciation of fine lyrics, given that he once directed me to a Veggie Tales clip involving a sad cebu (“boo hoo moo moo”) after my post about The Hairbrush Song.

This, though… this is truly the stuff that dreams are made of. Triangular dreams, no less. 

 It’s the little things in life.  

Filed under: humour, James Blunt, Sesame Street, sheer silliness, singing, songs, triangular dreams, weird | 7 Comments »

Uh-huh…huh?

Posted on January 28, 2008 by Hails

This year, I need to spend more time with my family. I have not been a dutiful daughter in recent years, and am feeling a little guilty. For this reason, I found myself sitting in the local Pensioners’ Pub on Saturday night, one of only four people under the age of 50, watching an Elvis impersonator with a comb-over and an alarming case of angina.

To give the man credit, he was absolutely fantastic as a soundalike of The King. Unfortunately, in terms of looks, he bore more of a resemblance to a used car salesman who wears fake leather jackets and spends Friday nights drinking pints and eating Scampi Fries in the Queen Vic/Rovers Return or similar before stopping in for a pasty supper on the way home. Once again though, great singer.

I must admit that despite my desire to be lofty and condescending about the event, I had a really good night. ‘Elvis’ was thankfully totally self-aware, and had no qualms about pointing out his lack of resemblance to The King. Following a particularly energetic dance routine, he paused to get his breath back and staggered, gasping, over to the railing behind which we were sitting. “I’m gettin’ too old for this,” he wheezed to one of the surprised-looking elderly ladies who made up the majority of the audience. “I was 73 last week ye know.”

His humour and ability to sing salvaged what could have been a completely disastrous evening, all circumstances taken into consideration. I was suitably amused by his occasional references to Northern Irish politics throughout the performance. “Won’t you please surrender…” he crooned beautifully. “NEVER!” he concluded in a sudden unexpected roar. Sister, Becs and myself got into the swing of things, and sang along heartily, arms waving etc. There was something quite ironic about being caught singing “Just one Cornetto…” to the tune of “It’s now or never”, and being caught on by, erm, Elvis.

Things were equally hilarious when I found myself in the queue in the Ladies’ at the interval listening to a completely unscripted but Oscar-worthy dialogue between several batty oul’ weemin. One old dear was slightly annoyed that the random stranger she threw her arms around couldn’t quite remember the solitary occasion on which they had previously met, 32 years ago. After lots of “Wullie’s aunt’s best friend’s sister-in-law” type of descriptions (“No, no, no! That’s Wullie Greer the postman, I mean Wullie Greer the plumber, Elsie’s daughter’s second husband!”), realisation finally dawned. “Aye, ye remember me now! I’m the one that ate the whole pavalova at thon party at Vera’s house in 1976!”. I bit my lip and stared desperately at a small stain on the ceiling. “Och, aye!” came the priceless reply, “Is that how ye got the nickname Pav?”

Speechless, I looked around for anyone else who might find this remotely funny, and caught the eye of the only other Under 50 (besides Becs, Sister and myself) in the building, a young girl with goth-style clothing and scarlet streaks in her hair, who looked about as at home at this event as a gospel hall member at a death metal concert. She looked at me in utter confusion and I felt a sense of solidarity as we made eye contact in the mirror. It took me a good 10 minutes to regain my composure when I returned to the table.

Best £7.50 I ever spent.

Filed under: Concerts, conversations, Elvis, family, friends, fun, laughter, singing | 4 Comments »

This is getting serious…

Posted on November 10, 2007 by Hails

I can’t say I’m a big fan of Celine Dion.

There are a couple of reasons for this. Firstly, and most importantly, if I did say it, everyone would laugh at me. Secondly, I’m not a big fan of Celine Dion. I definitely wouldn’t class myself as a fan, as such, having never seen her in concert, not knowing an awful lot about her, and being completely unaware that she was still in the music business until she appeared on The X Factor last week. I also think she has a very odd, screechy/warbly sort of voice, and to be honest I’ve never been entirely sure about her credibility in the world of, erm, song.

However, all this aside, I must confess that I’d forgotten how utterly fantastic her songs are for the purpose of singing along like a madwoman.

It all came back to me (eh? EH?!) as I was trundling along this morning in Rio the Clio, behind what I can only describe as a very large tank of milk. Terry Wogan was talking poncily, I was giggling sleepily, and the tank of milk was making me late for work. All of a sudden, I realised I was in the middle of the first verse of “Think Twice”. Ooooh, I thought interestedly, I haven’t heard this for a long time. In an instant I was 14 again, standing in my bedroom, surrounded by Take That posters, earnestly singing into a hairbrush. (Yes, I really did that. And I was good.)

The irritating tank of milk became unimportant, and I realised with mixed emotions (amusement – horror – nostalgia -embarrassment) that I still knew all the words. Every Last One. Even the echoes. By the second verse, I was gone. I may even have been dancing a little at the wheel as I howled “…’cause when you’re halfway up, you’re always half… way… dowwwwwn….”, ignoring the concerned glances from pedestrians and oncoming motorists. Sitting in a queue at a roundabout, Celine and I brought our duet to an earsplitting and heartstopping crescendo. “Don’t say what you’re about to say,” we crooned passionately. “NO NO NO NO!!!” I yelled, with perfect timing, as drums clattered and crashed, my hands pounding enthusiastically on the steering wheel.

Unfortunately, I had not realised that my window was slightly ajar. Sitting next to Rio was a little old man in a Fiesta, looking completely and utterly gobsmacked at what he had just witnessed (ie – crazy punk kid loses mind in car). I flashed him an apologetic - albeit clean affronted – smile, and hastily moved forward on to the roundabout. Glancing in the mirror, I noted that he had stalled his car, to the annoyance of impatient road users behind him. I felt slightly responsible.

Then I stopped caring and went back to muttering at the very large tank of milk that was making me late for work.

Filed under: Car, Celine Dion, driving, memories, singing, songs, very large tank of milk | 2 Comments »

Inspired By You (#7)

Posted on October 22, 2007 by Hails

Ally suggested: Tell us what you think about 80s music, footwear, different brands of orange juice, karaoke and the colourful clog things people are wearing these days!

Eighties Music: Here’s how I put it the other week when I was having this conversation with Dad. “It’s not like I don’t want to like the Eighties. I almost feel obliged to. But I try and I try and I just don’t get it.” Dad replied “That’s because you were only a nipper when they were happening,” and I had to disagree, pointing out that if that were the case, I certainly wouldn’t be so head over heels in love with Sixties music, as I wasn’t even born when the Sixties were happening. “I really, really want to like Eighties music,” I concluded sadly, as we watched the end of the music video that had prompted this discussion, “but I just do not get it. I love the Sixties, I like Seventies, and Nineties music will always remind me of happy childhood times. But the Eighties… I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Incidentally, this was the video that we’d been watching on a music channel…

I think they’re probably right. They ain’t nevva gonna be respectable.

Footwear: Here’s something you have to know about me. I do not care about fashion. I will not pay for brand names, I haven’t got a clue what’s ‘in’ right now, I would rather go grocery shopping than clothes shopping, and I will never, ever purchase a fashion magazine. Therefore, my opinions re: footwear are quite simple and easy to follow. (1) Footwear should be comfortable. (2) Footwear should not cost the same amount as it would take to feed a small impoverished African village. (3) If footwear looks ridiculous and/or is impossible to walk in, it is not OK to buy it just because it’s “trendy”. At present, I own one pair of incredibly battered trainers, one pair of decent-ish boots for work, a couple of pairs of ‘nice’ shoes, and some flip-floppy things for the summer. That’s it. My one slightly confused area of opinion in the shoe realm actually involves the very example Ally cited – the colourful clog things everybody’s wearing these days. You see, I think they are vile. Really, truly, honestly and genuinely horrendous-looking. People, in trying to be ‘fashionable’, are subjecting their feet to utter humiliation. “Ha-ha, look at the state of you!” all the other feet would be crying gleefully, if feet could talk (which would be weird, but – I can only imagine – quite entertaining). However, I have actually been informed by several reliable sources that these monstrosities are the most comfortable things you could ever hope to put on your feet. I am, as I have mentioned, all in favour of comfort before fashion when it comes to footwear.  Hence my dilemma. I suppose it all boils down to your motives for wearing them. If it’s to be ‘fashionable’, then I must shake my head sadly. If it’s because you’ll choose comfort over aesthetic beauty, then I applaud your bravery. It’s all political, really.

Brands of orange juice: I don’t really have a preferred brand, as they mostly taste the same to me. However, I must just say one thing: when it comes to ‘smooth’ vs. ’with bits’, smooth wins every time. Never with bits, NEVER. Why on earth would you purposely drink something that has stuff floating around in it? Like dirty dishwater, or a glass a small child has been drinking from. Ugh. Turns my stomach, that.

Karaoke: Oh, yes. I love karaoke. I was bitten by the karaoke bug in Butlins when I was 12 years old. I watched dozens of middle-aged men make complete and utter asses of themselves as they tried and failed to be superstars, and realised that I could (obviously) do much better. Which is probably what prompted me to go up and sing Lipstick On Your Collar by Connie Francis (I was an unusual child). Anyway, that was it. Nowadays, if there’s a microphone, someone’s usually trying to wrestle it from me. Sister and I do a mean version of American Pie, incidentally, should you be looking to get an early booking in for your office Christmas party. I’ve even been known to disappear when visiting McBouncy, only to be found sitting on a pink beanbag in McGinger’s room, singing my heart out on her junior karaoke machine (think McFly and Pink).

What a diverse range of subject material, Ally. I shall call upon you for inspiration again some day…

PS – I hope no one was too traumatised by the music video. No harm was intended.

Filed under: Butlin's, confusion, Eighties music, footwear, karaoke, memories, orange juice, singing, songs, weird | 16 Comments »

Inspired By You (#3)

Posted on September 29, 2007 by Hails

Mother BonBon suggested: Daniel O’Donnell. Why?

This comment prompted an intensive training session for The Housemate, who, being from America, has led the blessed, carefree and happy existence of one who has never heard of Wee Daniel. Several anecdotes, two jokes, and one visit to YouTube later, she seemed to have a much clearer understanding of why it’s quite traumatic to grow up in Ireland. I do feel, however, that issues like Daniel O’Donnell really promote cross-community unity. It’s something that brings us all together, from all different backgrounds and denominations, to empathise with and share in each other’s despair.

It was the sight of him, dressed snugly in a jumper hand-knitted by one of his elderly fans, telling an interviewer that he could be “a bit wild” that really got me. After this, he probably invited several pensioners round for custard creams, and fell asleep in his rocking chair.

Q: What has 50 legs and no teeth?

A: The front row of a Daniel O’Donnell concert.

For those of you who have the fortune to be from a different country and have never experienced this Irish phenomenon, Daniel is a “singer” (to use the word in the loosest possible sense) adored by grannies up and down the country. He has a reputation for being very kind to his fans (the afore-mentioned grannies), and thinks nothing of inviting them into his home and “entertaining” them. He has dressed like a pensioner since he was a lad, and he “sings” (again, please do not take me literally when I say that) a variety of “songs” (I’ve never felt such a strong compulsion to quote, unquote myself) that make Coleraine Extra Strong Mature Cheddar seem like a mild form of cheese.

One of my favourite episodes of Father Ted pokes fun at Wee Daniel with a genius of a character called Eoin McLove*, who wears jumpers knitted by his elderly fans (all of whom use zimmerframes and mob him in a hilarious parody of Night of the Living Dead), sings songs about his Mammy, sits on a rocking chair, and rescues a little puppy with a broken paw, all to the admiring coos of the OAPs.

[*Absolutely no relation to any of my blog  characters.]

If you’ve got a strong stomach, have a go at this video of Daniel being “wild”. I laughed, I cried, I sat with my hand over my mouth. I tried to watch it the whole way through, but something deep within my spirit prevents me from doing so.

So, Mother BonBon, in answer to your question: I don’t know. I simply do not know.

Filed under: Concerts, humour, sheer silliness, singing, songs | 12 Comments »

Camping Snapshot #2: Star-gazing

Posted on August 28, 2007 by Hails

Late at night, we are gathered around the lightbulb (camping just doesn’t have the same rustic feel to it, these days), gazing up at the stars. The sky really does look quite spectacular, here at the foot of the Mournes – clear and vast, like a dark velvet canvas on which God has idly painted a shining, shimmering masterpiece of twinkly lights.

“When you see all those stars, what does it make you want to sing?” asks McBouncy, dreamily.

Monkey Man clears his throat. “Look at the stars,” he begins in his best Chris Martin voice, “see how they shine for you…”

We all nod appreciatively.

“Stars shining bright above you,” I add softly, “Night breezes seem to whisper I love you…”

“Starry, starry night…” another voice chimes in, sweetly.

It is truly an enchanted evening. We pause in silent contemplation. The stars twinkle and glimmer in a romantic, thought-provoking way.

McBoy breaks the silence. “Do you want to hear my song?” he asks hesitantly. We all nod in encouragement. He takes a deep breath.

“I feel like chicken tonight, like chicken tonight…”

He is an unusual boy. The moment is over.

Filed under: boys, camping, conversations, friends, singing, stars, weird | 4 Comments »

What Hails Did

Posted on August 13, 2007 by Hails

This weekend….

1. An afternoon’s shopping saw me return home with the weirdest assortment of items ever, including a talking monkey, a bubble party machine, a Thornton’s chocolate plaque and a set of spoons.

2. I accidentally killed Elvis Presley at the swimming pool.

3. I danced with wild abandon at the Spark Party in the Park – in the pouring rain. Drenched, I was.

4. I got up at 4.45am… and on a Saturday, too.

5. On my way home to Ballymena from Antrim, I drifted into a slight daydream, went too far round a roundabout and suddenly realised I was on the M2 heading for Belfast.

6. I played Trivial Pursuit until 1am, eventually giving up and going to bed because the end was nowhere in sight (and I’d realised all the answers were either “Friends” or “Madonna” anyway).

7. I encountered an elderly and slightly barking gentleman in Clinton Cards, who was singing the instrumental parts of “For the good times” as it played on the shop sound system, as well as agreeing with the lyrics (e.g. “Don’t look so sad” Nope, nope! “I know it’s over” S’over… lalalalaaaaa).

8. I got involved in a lengthy discussion about the best methods for inhaling helium.

9. I almost washed my cat in the washing machine by accident.

10. I wrote a list that successfully reminded me that my life is not particularly ordinary – and I love it.

Filed under: cat, conversations, driving, Elvis, friends, Mishaps, singing, swimming pool, walking, weird | 2 Comments »

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