I must admit that, like many people, I was sceptical of warnings about the Coronavirus when it first began spreading in China. Not only did I not believe it would ever bother us here but I assumed they’d soon find a vaccine. I was wrong, but it’s obvious that many people around the world haven’t yet got the message.

Possibly this is, at least in part, because the whole thing feels like something out of a sci-fi movie and we’re so used to clever scientific people resolving similar crises. Antibiotics, for example, have saved millions – if not billions – of lives over the years. Likewise many highly infectious diseases virtually eradicated by science or simply by improving water quality and basic hygiene standards.

Even cancer and heart disease – which remain far bigger killers than Covid-19 – have at least been partially beaten. They do not, any case, mean certain death as they once did. But this virus has spread like wildfire, owing in large part to our mass transport systems and, as I write, appears beyond control for maybe another year or more. That is, until a vaccine is found. Testing health works and others, as with isolation, may stem the spread to some extent but it won’t stop the disease.

And, of course, until we can halt its progress life will continue in limbo with many businesses shut down – maybe never to resume trading – and millions unemployed. National economies may crash, or be so crippled they’ll take many years to recover.

So, any good news? Yes, I believe so. People are realising there are more important things than politics, wealth, culture, race, religion, nationality, etc. We are, first and foremost, human beings and if we’re to beat this thing have to work together. Blame and criticism are a waste of effort – we just have to put our differences behind us and work for the common good. Because anyone, rich or poor, good or bad, black or white, etc, can catch it and die. Stark but true.

My song – Strange Times – gives a slightly bemused view , but I guess humour is one way to deal with it. Oh, and I’ve decided to start a Song Tales You Tube channel (is that good or bad?).

STRANGE TIMES            

Chorus: Strange times – strange times,

    Momma these are very strange times.

I went down to the grocer’s shop, to buy some bread and cheese,

Man said you can’t come in here if you got a cough or sneeze.

I said you know it’s only a sniffle, and got down on my knees to pray,

He said it ain’t no joke, take these bars of soap, wash all your blues away.

But I was still feeling hungry, so I went down to my local café,

The lights were out but I heard a shout, saying hey man go away.

I said how about a cup of coffee – you know what I like?

Give those beans a shake – get me some carrot cake.

He told me to get on my bike.

So I went back to my home now, turned on the TV news,

I saw everybody was singing, the self-isolation blues.

Let’s clap the doctors and nurses – and give ‘em all a big cheer,

And hope I never really need those guys any time this year.

Then I looked into my garden – at the pretty flowers and trees.

Went and dug the whole lot up and planted spuds and peas.

No one knows what’s going on or when we may be free,

So just like back in World War Two, we’re digging for victory.

The main question when writing any book is, will anyone publish it and hence read it? Against this is a more personal question – or series of questions – do I really want to write this book? Is it so important to me that I will spend months of hard labour on it? And, perhaps, will this book say something others don’t? Or, at least, say something I’ve not said before?

To try and answer these questions I have to go back to the beginning. I’ve been writing and performing songs since I was a teenager – many years ago – and they often tell a story. The narrative ballad is a very old form, of course, but a worthy one. A song is shorter, easier to digest (if sung well) and can portray many more emotions than a spoken or written version. It’s also a disciplined form, meaning the author must condense the plot into a few lines, although there are many examples (in the folk tradition, opera, music hall, etc) where the narrative may be extended for an hour or more. Generally speaking, this is not a good idea. However, I’ve always enjoyed the challenge of telling a story in song and have tried it many times with varying degrees of success.

First and foremost, the ballad has to work as a song. Be tuneful and entertaining. There’s a long tradition of murder or highwaymen ballads – often sold around the gallows tree when criminals were hanged – and served a useful purpose disseminating news to a largely illiterate public. But these were soon forgotten if not memorable as songs in their own right. Likewise, it’s no good saying a song is historically accurate if it’s also boring or poorly sung. What’s more, a good ballad doesn’t have to be long and complicated. For example: Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water, etc. Well we all know what happened next don’t we?

In my own case, I’ve always loved writing ballads and included the lyrics in previous books. Over the past few years I’ve also written a few short stories, plus many outlines which I promised myself I’d return to one day. So, looking back over these a few months ago, I started to get intrigued and wondered if this was the right time to see what I could make of them. After a while I found myself getting hooked since I never really knew where they were going. Though I tried outlining plots beforehand I soon found this wasn’t possible as each seemed to have a life of its own. In fact, just like most songs I’ve written, they just grew organically of their own volition. The characters, also, came to life and seemed like real people even though I knew they were not. It was weird.

So the answer to the above question is yes, I did need to tell these stories. They became important to me. But will anyone publish them? Who knows? The book is now available on Amazon (£6.99 paperback or £1.99 e-book) but obviously I’d love a regular publisher to take an interest. I think they’re good, but then I would say that wouldn’t I?

‘On land, in the seas, in the sky, the devastating impact of humans on nature is laid bare in a compelling UN report,’ says Matt McGrath (6 May 2019), BBC environment correspondent. ‘One million animal and plant species are now threatened with extinction. Nature everywhere is declining at a speed never previously seen and our need for ever more food and energy are the main drivers.’  

‘Of the four billion life forms which have existed on this planet, three billion, nine hundred and sixty million are now extinct. We don’t know why. Some by wanton extinction, some through natural catastrophe, some destroyed by meteorites and asteroids. In the light of these mass extinctions it really does seem unreasonable to suppose that Homo sapiens should be exempt. Our species will have been one of the shortest-lived of all, a mere blink, you may say, in the eye of time.’
P.D. James, The Children of Men, 1992.

The Last Turtle               

It was down in Honolulu, just across the bay.

When I saw a giant turtle at least a mile away.

She really was so beautiful, the fairest ever seen,

In fact somebody told me, she was the last ocean queen.

Chorus:      Ooh, ooh. She was the last ocean queen.

……………………………………………………………………………..

Older than the mountains, and even all mankind,

She’d seen empires rise and fall, back to the dawn of time.

And as she drew closer and crawled upon the sand,

I asked her this one question I felt maybe she’d understand.

……………………………………………………………………………………

Is their hope for all our children, we love so very dear?

She looked at me quite strangely and wiped away a tear.

She said she’d heard the Romans, Egyptians and the Greeks,

Laughing to think that their ship of fools might spring a leak.

………………………………………………………………………………………

I asked her for her meaning, if she could please relate,

Though storm clouds were approaching,

and the hour was getting late.

Come with me she cried out, so I climbed upon her back,

She swam out past the breakers, while I held onto my hat.

………………………………………………………………………………..

From horizon to horizon lay destruction everywhere,

While sunning on the shoreline were folks without a care.

And high up in a citadel sat the leaders and their tarts,

Raking in the dollars saying look at all our bleeding hearts.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Now answer your own question, the creature said to me,

Then tell me why am I the last turtle in the sea?

It was down in Honolulu, just across the bay,

I saw her swimming all alone, and oh so far, far, away.

Note: Go to Sound Cloud to hear song.

A very silly song but with a serious message. Seems like some presidents have little concern for the environment and are happy to see great natural forests destroyed for the sake of profit. These forests are, of course, playing a vital part in helping reduce CO2 levels and also contain millions of plants and animals which, once gone, cannot be brought back again.

GRIZZLY BEAR     

Somewhere in a deep dark wood, there lived a grizzly bear. With big sharp claws and big sharp teeth, but nobody knows where, He could be hiding in a cave maybe or up a tree, Waiting for to pounce upon someone like you or me. Ooooh – just like you or me.

Somewhere in a deep dark wood, there lived a grizzly bear. A very tall and handsome chap who never combed his hair. He ate small children for his lunch because they were quite free. And to take the taste away he drank some herbal tea. Ooooh – he drank some herbal tea.

Somewhere in a deep dark wood, there lived a grizzly bear. But he’s not as cuddly as seen from your TV chair. When he was a little cub everybody went aah. But now that he’s old and grumpy and not so la-di-dah.

Somewhere in a deep dark wood, there lived a grizzly bear. But one day a hunter came a-searching for him there. With a great big shotgun he meant to go off bang! But the bear gave him a fright and off that hunter ran.

Somewhere in a deep dark wood there lived a grizzly bear. But so very sad to say he is no longer there. They’ve gone and chopped the forest down to drill for oil and gas. Well thankyou Mr President – oh what a silly ass.

Though I love Dougie Maclean’s song celebrating his homeland, I began to think about changes across the UK and felt it needed updating. The main change being our great racial and cultural mix. When I was a kid, a black or brown face was rare, but now, thankfully, its common. Not only that but looking back at our own personal histories, we find all kinds of surprises. My own ancestors, that I know of, came from Germany, Scotland and East Anglia but that’s not going back far.

Caledonia – original lyrics (part only)

I don’t know if you can see, the changes that have come over me
In these last few days, I’ve been afraid that I might drift away
And I’ve been tellin old stories, singing songs
That made me think about where I came from
And That’s the reason why I seem so far away today.

          Oh but let me tell you that I love you
          And I think about you all the time
          Caledonia your callin me and now I’m goin home
          But if I should become a stranger
          You know that it would make me more than sad
          Caledonia you’ve been everything I’ve ever had.

NEW BRITANNIA                

I don’t know if you can see, changes that have come over our country,

But I discovered that my gran was Irish as could be,

And grandad was a German refugee.

My Auntie came from Africa – my uncle Pakistan,

Seems I’m not really such an English man.

My great grandfather from Peru, married a girl from Timbuctoo,

Have to admit the way that I’ve wound up, just an ordinary mongrel pup,

Hardly know now what I’m gonna do.

But let me tell you that I love you, think about you all the time,

Britannia, you crazy home of mine.

Britannia, forever yours and mine

Down our street now you may see folk from all over the seven seas,

From high and low and in between,

Republicans and God save the queen.

Yet somehow we all seem to muck along,

And never mind about where we come from,

Still we sing this damned old silly song.

So sitting here, with rain a-falling, a government that’s quite appalling,

Never mind if we are sinking – it’s always been that way,

There never was a really good old days.

Down our streets now anywhere an international cuisine is there.

To remind us not to worry ‘bout the colour of your skin,

Anyone may be your kith or kin.

MB © 2019

Got no reason to be jolly - got no reason to be gay,
Got no reason to trip over but we stumble anyway.
Like a merry old court jester, like a silly circus clown,
We roll around with laughter as old England's pants fall down.
(repeat last line)

Everybody'd got opinions, everybody flies a kite.
But one thing is for certain everybody can't be right.
It's the price we pay for freedom, for our long-lost great renown,
Now all the world is laughing as old England's pants fall down.

Oh once we ruled an empire, yes once we ruled the waves,
Now we can't even rule ourselves, never mind not being slaves.
The Queen is in her counting house, selling off her crown,
We're laughing to the food banks as old England's pants fall down.

Coz the fools have taken over - lunatics have grabbed the reins,
You couldn't even make it up unless you were insane.
Our little ship is sinking in our tears as we all drown,
But we still laugh our socks off as old England's pants fall down.

Now one day in the future you may read your history book,
And wonder in amazement at how our bellies shook.
As we sabotaged the country and went spinning round and round,
But it really isn't funny as old England's pants fall down.

Just published a new novel for young people – about 10-15 years of age – on Amazon KDP. It’s quite ambitious, about a boy who finds himself in an underground world of strange creatures, outlandish characters, new friends and villains. The most difficult part – though also most enjoyable – was creating this new imaginary environment where I could have included anything. The problem was, despite the fantastic nature of Wormwold, it also had to make logical sense, at least by it’s own norms.

Alfie Pike discovers Wormwold, a secret underground civilisation, after breaking into a derelict house said to be haunted. He finds himself in an ancient landscape and soon fighting for his life against a wild boar but is t,hen saved and captured by a warrior tribe. Escaping with another boy, Brenan, he meets the sorceress Vervain who encourages Alfie on his quest to help find a cure for his little sister who has been poisoned by a criminal gang. The antidote can only be found in a special pond deep beneath the frozen Alaskan tundra which requires a long arduous journey.

Alfie meets several other characters, all with interesting life stories, who help him on his way. Wormwold has been carved out by giant worms over hundreds of years, producing a huge network of tunnels serviced by high-speed tube trains, or Express Pods, reaching around the world. However, although the local area of Wormwold is peaceful and ordered, many other parts are lawless with enemies out to destroy Alfie’s expedition and thwart his attempts to obtain the antidote.

Along with the human characters, there are also many strange creatures such as giant insects, extinct animals including dinosaurs and other hybrids, many developed through genetic engineering. In some ways Wormwold is more technically advanced than our world and initially Alfie loves it but learns that Utopia has its faults and, in the end, is glad to return home. Alfie is successful in his quest but in a final twist it is left open as to whether Wormwold really exists or not. A sequel is possible however, with Alfie reunited with the old gang to meet new challenges and adversaries.

Wormwold was inspired by the Lambton Worm, an old story from County Durham not far from my home in Newcastle.Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs, an aall tell ye’s aall an aaful story Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs, an’ aa’ll tell ye ‘boot the worm. Song in dialect by C.M. Leumane – 1867

I recall very clearly when rationing of sweets was removed in 1953. My mum gave my brother and I a few pennies to spend on the way home from school and of course we did. Though it wasn’t the branded items like chocolate bars and packets of sweets we bought but, to make our coppers go further we got gobstoppers, chews, liquorice, aniseed balls, etc. My song remembers those days and also the old money which meant, at school, working out sums in three columns with no calculators of course (but then we did learn out times tables by rote – a morning ritual).

‘All sorts of essential and non-essential foods were rationed, as well as clothing, furniture and petrol. Rationing of sweets and chocolate began on 26 July 1942.
The process of de-rationing began in 1948, but made slow progress until 1953. Then Food Minister Gwilym Lloyd-George made it a priority for his department.
As well as sweets, he took eggs, cream, butter, cheese, margarine and cooking fats off the ration books.
He de-rationed sugar in September 1953, partly as a result of pressure from sweet manufacturers, and finally ended rationing when meat was taken off the ration books in July1954.
The de-rationing of sweets had a dramatic effect on the confectionery market. Spending on sweets and chocolate jumped by about £100m in the first year to £250m – a year which, according to the confectionery industry, was “as dynamic as any in the industry’s history”.
Consumers in the UK now spend in excess of £5.5bn on confectionery each year.’ From the BBC website.

LOOSE CHANGE

Give us your money, give us your cash,
Ain’t no use if it all goes crash.
Bring ‘em back, pounds, shillings and pence.
Do you remember with half-a-crown,
You could have a good night out on the town,
And still have change for your bus fare home.
A packet of Woodbines, one-and-six,
And in the morning some Weetabix,
with a pint of milk delivered to your door.

Chorus:
Loose change, oh what fun,
counting the currants in a currant bun.
No more, rationing now. No rationing now

Give me your money, give me your dough,
The younger generation, well what do they know?
How many pennies were in a pound?
How many shillings, three-penny bits?
No calculators gotta use your wits.
Oh boy, those were the days.
Short pants and dirty knees,
Don’t make a fuss if you start to sneeze.
Eat your greens and be on your way.

Give me your money, your ten bob notes,
Credit cards, oh what a joke.
You’d be lucky with a two bob bit.
A penny gobstopper – some halfpenny chews,
On Saturday morning, you can’t lose,
Sherbet dips and a liquorice stick.
Sweet cigarettes and a lollipop,
We were in heaven believe it or not,
With pocket money – we made the best of it.