Monday 20 November 2017

Dean Martin shanghais my emotions

Ciara Ferguson

PACK up all my cares and woe ... Here I go ... Singing low ... Bye bye blackbird...

Dean Martin is a good ally when it comes to the alchemy of music -- whether it be a nostalgic interlude or an excuse to dance. I learned the power of music from my father, who loved The Jazz Lads, Westlife and Mahler with equal gusto. Somehow, over the past few years, I lost either the will or the facility to play my music. Not good, that. Shanghai was the place I learned how to 'fine tune' my life again. I even met my husband in a jazz club, where I couldn't hear a word he said and could instead perceive the subtle sense of him.

My Chinese neighbour has just had a special corrugated iron shed built for his own private nightly karaoke ritual.

All I can see from my window is the old soft shuffle of his feet as he sings along. The Chinese ballads sound oddly like the Irish ones -- especially when he throws in a few beers and has a good cry. Music allows emotion and yet keeps it at a safe distance.

I am packing. I hate saying goodbye. I'll avoid it where possible. Then again, in some ways, having a chance to say goodbye is a beautiful thing. I can't say goodbye to Shanghai. though. Shangbye just doesn't sound right.

I know it's time to go and at least I know there will be music playing under a corrugated iron roof. Like the vicarious heat of an old flame. Music softens all blows. It feels like I am leaving home again. And I have learnt that home is merely the place where we can be ourselves. But let's not make a song and dance of it when just a song will do ... Where somebody waits for me ... Sugar's sweet, So is she ... Bye bye blackbird.

Sunday Indo Living

Promoted Links

Entertainment Newsletter

Going out? Staying in? From great gigs to film reviews and listings, entertainment has you covered.

Promoted Links

Editors Choice

Also in Entertainment