The highlight for me was a performance by a senior age
group choir – The Silver Clefs. They had
complimentary sparkly waistcoats (complimentary as in they matched – not that
they said you had a nipped in waist and nice eyes as you walked past!) and a
few had nifty hats too to top off the look.
I think I freaked out my 12 year old by knowing the words to ‘pack up
your troubles’, ‘it’s a long was to Tipperary’ and other bangers like ‘Doin’
the Lambeth Walk’. I broke out in a
jaunty dance routine to accompany their singing and was instantly elbowed and eye-rolled
simultaneously.
The effort they put into their performance was extraordinary
– I was mesmerised! Part of my inability
to break eye contact may have been down to the Lady in the middle front who
opened her mouth so wide to let the sound out, I could actually count her
(false) teeth and there was the macabre part of me that wanting one of them to
lose control of their top dentures and watch them clatter in full falsetto
towards their bottom plate. They are a
‘not for profit’ singing group for pleasure and visit nursing homes (no doubt
smug that they are still old, but are able to leave at the end of afternoon tea
without sparking sirens and a searchlight) and perform at various other
community events.
I loved them and made a mental note to google them later
on to see what their joining requirements were.
If a prerequisite was dentures, I might be in trouble. If
this could be countered with a love of polyester, large belly-warmer knickers
and penchant for lavender scents, I could be onto a winner.
The swaying choreography looked like Len Goodman had done it personally,
although thanks to an over eagre man at the end, it did somewhat turn into a
Newton’s Cradle effect. My mind immediately went into creative overdrive – oh
the songs we could cover! The Costumes! The dance moves! I could envisage the entire troupe covering ‘Smack
my Bitch up’ or GaGa’s ‘Love Game’; although rather than taking a ride on a
disco stick, it would obviously be a walking stick! Instead of songs about cars, we could tailor
them to be about mobility scooters. My
mind was literally whirring at the endless possibilities for this spectacular
singing troupe.
Although they probably had a combined age of 1050, they
were still more energetic and vibrant that a lot of their younger
counterparts. They put the hoodie
contingent to shame with their Joie de Vivre and mothballs. We could attract sponsorship from leading
manufacturers – TenaLady, Hush Puppies, Plumbs loose covers. I can imagine that co-ordinating the Troupe
would involve its challenges judging by the look of some of the Ladies! I may have dreamt it, but I was convinced
that two women in the front row were staging a pensioner-twerk off to get the attention
of 80 year old Bob (own bungalow, grows award winning chrysanthemums, incontinent Jack
Russell) he truly was a catch, I could fully understand the fight for his
attention. June was gyrating so vigorously,
I was worried she was going to throw a hip!
I’ve heard of ‘giving someone the eye’ but this could be taken very
literally with Vera and her glass one.
It was slightly disconcerting wondering whether she was talking
to me, or Bert on my right.
I would also have to visit all venues prior to any
performances to check for access for George’s Gopher, assess for any sparking
hazards for Maureen’s oxygen supply, check the stairs weren’t too narrow for
John’s Club foot and make sure there was a suitable ‘restroom area’ for Peter’s
Guide dog. Blimey! This gig was getting bigger than Ben Hur!
They touched me though (not in a Jimmy Saville,
inappropriate way!), but with their enthusiasm! When I grow up, I want to be a Silver Clef.
I’ll even take the oath to never eat an apple ever again.
I’ll even take the oath to never eat an apple ever again.
