Skip to main content

Bananarama un-splits & a marafine example

All together now! "Na na na na, na na na na, hey heeeey..."

Proving the world isn’t as gloomy and miserable and I tend to make it by appearing in a room, there were two happy and positive stories that caught my jaded attention this week.

For those whose age can be neatly categorised with the prefix “Middle”, the name Bananarama conjures up happy, youthful, memories of the toppermost of the poppermost of 1980’s girl bands.

With ten top ten singles, the trio danced their way (questionably) through the decade, with such cheery pop confections as ‘Cruel Summer’, ‘Love in the First Degree’ and the deeply complex and sesquipedalian ‘Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye)’.

Well, guess what? Keren, Sara and Siobhan are back together and going on their first tour. Ever. Records sold = 40 million. Number of gigs = zero (to date). True, a line-up of the band without Fahey did hit the road, but this will be the original trio’s first live outings. Heading out on a 15 date tour later this year, its clear people still love the Nanas – their website crashed when the tour was announced on Monday.

And, I heard a rumour that there might be a new single at some point too. Chart hit number 27 could be just around the corner.

"Pretty sure these aren't my legs..."
Next up, we have the act of generosity that provided the feel-good factor for millions watching the London Marathon last weekend.

The event isn’t short on heroes. Many of those who take on the daunting 26.2 miles of roads around our capital are fundraising for charities. They have been touched, directly or indirectly, by the many and varied issues that their chosen organisation seeks to help, and raise thousands of pounds for worthy causes.

There are also the serious runners, whose focus is on achieving the best result they possibly can. After all the training, the pulled muscles and the blisters, they’re striving to achieve their personal target.

It’s tough when you’ve given your all and, with the finish line almost in sight, your body can’t propel you any further as you crash into “The Wall”. For David Wyeth, the last 200 metres of the race must have seemed impossible, as his legs buckled and he collapsed. But he made it, thanks to the generosity of someone he didn’t even know.

Seeing his fellow competitor struggling, Matthew Rees stopped and, delaying his own finish, helped the wobbly-legged Wyeth over the line. “It’s just being human, isn’t it?” he mused, when asked afterwards why he stopped. If the reaction of those watching on TV, and subsequently when it was replayed and spread like wildfire across the internet, are anything to go by, apparently not.

This was an act of generosity by a stranger. With so much hatred and violence on daily display across the world, “being human” can easily be viewed as meaning cruelty and evil.

That’s why Matthew really is a hero and got such a reception. He embodies what we should all really be like – generous and kind... for the long run.

This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column, in the North West Evening Mail, on the 28th of April 2017. The version used on their website was re-titled as "A Bananrama feelgood drama", as was the print version.

Happy days eh? Its like the 80s never went away... they just got a bit wrinkly.

The original version of this had a second paragraph that started "For those men whose age..." but no matter what I tried to write after that, it still sounded creepy-old-blokey. A sensible edit definitely works better. 

(CD A-Z: Mike Oldfield's "Guitars" from '99.)   

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Schaf Shuffle

The weather – source of endless fascination, conversation, irritation and (just recently) excess irrigation. And a fidgety weather presenter on the BBC... I’m endlessly fascinated with the weather, and will confess to making sure I catch the BBC’s updates whenever possible. Not the local ones, where half the presenters look like they got dressed in the dark, or ITV, where they seem to know very little about actual weather, but the national forecasts. Delivered by actual Met Office personnel, their job entails a tricky mix of waving your hands about a bit, explaining about warm fronts without smirking, and trying not to look too pleased whilst mentioning gales force winds and torrential rain. Or stand in front of Cornwall. Each has their own presenting style, but there is one who intrigues me above all the others. Step forward, Tomasz Schafernaker, the 37 year old man from the Met who breezed onto our screens in 2001, as the youngest male ever to point out that it was going to r

Making an exhibition of yourself

Now and again, it’s good to reaffirm that you’re a (relatively) normal human being. One excellent way of doing this is to go to a business exhibition. Despite what you might have surmised from reading my previous columns, I am employable, and even capable of acting like a regular person most of the time, even joining in the Monday morning conversation about the weather over the weekend, and why (insert name of footyballs manager here) should be fired immediately. The mug! True, there are times, often involving a caffeine deficiency, where it is like having the distilled essence of ten moody teenagers in the room, but I try and get that out of the way when people I genuinely like aren’t around to see it. As part of my ongoing experiment with what others call ‘working’, my ‘job’ involves me occasionally needing to go and see what some of my colleagues get up to outside the office, and what our competitors do to try and make sure that they do whatever my colleagues do better than

RIP Jenwis Hamilbutton

We are gathered here in this... (looks round a bit) um... blog, to mourn the passing of Jenwis Hamilbutton. His life may have been short and largely irrelevant, but he touched the lives of so many people that... sorry? Oh. Apparently that was someone else... Jenwis Hamilbutton rose briefly to fame on twitter during 2010, when he was retweeted by BBC F1 presenter Jake Humphrey, having criticised his shirt. A similarly unspectacular claim to fame occurred when a tweet he crafted at 1am on a windy night appeared in F1 Racing magazine. An amalgam of bits of Formula 1 drivers Lewis Hamilton and Jenson Button (mostly the hopeless bits), he came into existence via 3 pints of cider, a Creme Egg and the Electric Light Orchestra’s mournful 1986 farewell album “Balance Of Power”, played loudly over headphones. In his short existence, he was followed on twitter by Paul Hardcastle of “19” fame, and a bunch of slightly odd but jolly nice people, whom he was never entirely sure actually exist