Chuck in the Chrissy Chorus (Oct26)

 

 

Along Dudley Street on the return from town, a short queue of Indians for a Christmas special of some kind at Festival Hall, the little fluttering flags indicated. What might that be about late Saturday afternoon, one week out?... Odd. Young Chinese making up the hill revealed the mystery. Songs were to be sung here shortly, sweet tunes. In fact, precisely the business of the Hall decades past—songs, and doubling for wrestling & boxing. Way back The Beatles and the Stones too had packed them in at the Hall, among numerous other outfits over the years. Had to be a church thing, right? Yup, the lady confirmed. And which might that be?… Hill Song… Ah, Hill Song. That was the one that boasted the PM Scomo among its congregation. (Once he had been caught on film upstaging the chief pastor with his relationship with the Lord. High polish performance as one would expect. They did tongues and swoons at Hill Song from memory.) On that particular matter, the lady was none too sure. She would be taking a brightly smiling, expectant face in there through the doors herself. Further down the path, American apple pie accents had joined. Like for the rockin-rollers of the past, a singalong was on the cards behind those walls shortly; if a fellow hung about he may have heard from the pavement, despite all the hurtling traffic. (The roadway on Dudley was death for cyclists.) In Yarraville the bookshop was checked again, this time the volume found soon enough. There it sat, face-up among the other candy-colours. Too right—Bonaparte & Corsica, Berger & the Côte d'Azur mentioned in the first 230 word paragraph of the prize-winner’s latest release. Got in from the get-go. The memory from the arts pages on the weekend wasn’t an exaggeration. A few years back in another novel by the same, there had been a particular perfume, a native tree and a couple other signposts in the treasure trove opening. Out on the fake grass that covered that end of Ballarat Street, Yarraville, by the cinema & bookshop, a live ensemble was giving more Christian cheer. Chuck Berry number among the rest, would you believe. The old rocker’s only item of the genre, the C&W gal behind the mike revealed. Memorably, before appearances, the Chuckster had always been cash up front into the guitar case, Sir, if you don’t mind. Other big names got ripped by promoters, the boxers & all the rest. Not the ol’ Daddy Oh.

 

 

 

                                                                                                                 Melbourne, December