Saturday, 26 February 2011

Reevers' reminder of Scrobs' Big Idiot Card...


When Scrobs was a younger bloke, and just finding out a few things, he joined several friends and went on a couple of holidays in Spain and Italy, for a little water skiing, several drinks each lunchtime and evening and a multitude of Three Castles tipped...

It was a grand couple of weeks on each occasion, and among all the general festivities being enjoyed by our throng (about fifteen of us), there was community singing in the bar each evening, with Scrobs on a very basic, but much loved guitar.

As Reevers has prompted me to reminisce, we used to have several party pieces which crept into the repertoire after certain levels of tinctured jollity, and 'The Three Bells' was a late entry into the finales of each evening, much to the chagrin of most of the other residents, and sometimes a few of the hangers-on as well...

It's been mentioned here that this particular song has a great history with the Scrobs dynasty, and so it seems, with the Clan Reevers as well!

So, at the risk of repeating myself, saying everything for a second time, and reiterating past posts and comments, I can safely say that when we used to sing this song, we could always forget the order of the verses, and also the order of each of the lines - even the words in each line or verse as well! After much happiness and laughter, the song would echo into the rafters with a giggle and a chuckle and a "where are my my smokes", or "who's shout is it..."! Yates would always say 'What key are we in' and he was tone deaf!

One year, we all went to a party which was intended to be a post-holiday re-enactment of all the fun we'd had at these various gatherings. When the evening was going full swing, our host (an osteopath of some renown) called the meeting to order, handed Scrobs his concert guitar, and ordered everyone to sit up and listen. He the proceeded to unfurl a huge roll of paper on which he'd written the correct words to the song for us all to sing - probably for the first time ever, and it worked like a dream!

Magical moments like this last a lifetime.

4 comments:

rvi said...

Scrobs: Very interesting, but even in those younger carefree days we all needed a (brief) break from those 4 and 20 young ladies from north of the border!

Well done the lads at Twickers too. That will shut the "arrogant" French coach up for a while.

Electro-Kevin said...

Where is Sunshine Mountain ?

I'd been told the following day that I'd fallen off it, this accounting for my bruises.

I couldn't find it on my map of Lincolnshire.

Scrobs... said...

Absolutely Reevers! Asermatterafack, both of these hols were with several good lady chums, the latter one being the future Mrs Scrobs...

But, to get to your point, the week before the same future Mrs Scrobs and I first decided to venture forth, I'd been happily emconced in the embrace of the other front row forwards on a long weekend in The Hague, where we played the Dutch National side apparently, and most of the Shell employees!

Now that was a trip to remember...

Agree about the game yesterday, it really was a tight effort on both sides, but the discipline of our boys won out against Gallic impetuosity!

Scrobs... said...

Elecs, it's here!

We're climbing up Sunshine Mountain,
Where the four winds blow, ho, ho,
We're climbing up Sunshine Mountain,
Face all a-glow, oh, oh,
Turn your back on all your sorrows,
Reach up to the sky, i, i,
We're climbing up Sunshine Mountain,
You and I, you and I... "

So it's where the four winds blow apparently!

Lincolnshire is renowned for having a big sky, and such mountains don't exist so I'm told!