Fortune sides with him who dares

'Little John' BlogDoll not to scale

Virgil Tracy, probably the most complex¹ of Jeff Tracy's five sons, is (or will be²) the pilot of Thunderbird 2. TB2 is the huge³ freighter that carries International Rescue's ingenious heavy engineering equipment⁴ in any one of the six interchangeable pods housed in its underbelly. I mention this because for Father's Day this year James gave me a beautiful Corgi diecast model of Thunderbird 2 (c/w the pod housing Thunderbird 4). And I absolutely love it.

Virgil (who was named after Virgil 'Gus' Grissom - one of  Project Mercury's Mercury 7 astronauts) arrived on our (still black & white) screens in 1965 as a fully formed 24 year old and is the second eldest, after Scott - TB1's handler. He was originally voiced by American actor David Holliday who himself was a rather talented individual - his CV comprises stints on Broadway including West Side Story & Don Quixote Man of La Mancha, and, closer to home, on British telly, Coronation Street (he played Tom Schofield, a great nephew of Ena Sharples!). It's not documented if Holliday also tinkled the ivories.

Virgil Tracy - Dangerous Game⁵

 

¹ A very physical character but also a gifted artist and musician (and as you can see above, a none too shabby lounge pianist).

² Thunderbirds was set in 2065, 100 years in the future.

³ TB2 is 250 feet long, stands 60 feet high and has a wingspan of 180 feet. It's fucking massive.

⁴ Including various magnetic grabbers and, every young boy's favourite, the Mole. 

⁵ Played, obviously, by the one and only Barry Gray.

 ★

Virgil (70BC-19BC)

Virgil Grissom (1926-1967)

David Holliday (1937-1999)

Virgil Tracy (2041-)

My Life in 10 Objects (#6)

The recent passing of Jack Charlton was a sad loss not only to the world of football, but also to the world of playing cards. Let me explain. We Medds are inveterate card players; as soon as we're able to count, a place is set for us at the table and somebody deals us in.

When James was growing up and living at home he played many, many hands of Rummy, Newmarket, Predictions with friends & family, and could hold his own from a very early age.
One of the packs of cards we used depicted badly drawn footballers  - we often wondered if the artist even knew who Gary Lineker was - and it soon became our default deck.

A number of catchphrases built up around several of these these hapless artist impressions: whenever Jack Charlton(a humble Two of Clubs) came out of the deck, it was met with a derisory 'Jack? He'll win you jack!' Nobby Stiles simply: 'Nobby lad!'

David Beckham, on the other hand, was quite literally the ace in the pack. Lay down the Ace of Hearts and a shout of 'Becksy's out the pen' would drown out many a game.
But now Jack joins the list of those in the pack sadly no longer with us - George Best, Bobby Moore, Stanley Matthews... 
Football playing cards. Today's object.

Speaking of George Best:

Link Wray - Ace of Spades (1965)

Taking the Fifth

You wait ten years for a post about flutes...

In the world of Fifth Beatles - I imagine it to be like a low rent Stella Street where Pete Best and Brian Epstein run the corner shop and Billy Preston mans the laundromat - its inhabitants are all tenuously linked (some more than others) to the four lads from Liverpool who shook the world. And the Fifth Beatle (of which there are more than you care to think), by inference, each played his or her (small) part in the shaking.
Anyway, about those flutes. Ever wondered who played the beautiful flute solo on John Lennon's You've Got to Hide Your Love Away? As pub quiz questions go it is quite niche, but the answer is Johnny Scott. Whilst this may not qualify him fully for Fifth Beatle status - maybe Sixth? - I bet it's a story that's enchanted the grandchildren over the intervening years.

Scott was - and indeed still is - a respected jazz musician, arranger and composer of many film scores. In the mid 1960s he found himself working with many acts on the EMI roster at Abbey Road and did a lot of work with George Martin (another early occupant of Fifth Avenue) - which is how he got sucked into the Beatles orbit.

At the behest of Martin he laid down a tenor flute in the spaces in Lennon's vocal track and an additional alto part played an octave higher. Hearing cover versions without the flute just don't sound right to me.

Before I go, I just want to leave you with one of my all time favourite Beatles quotes. And, before you ask, it's not delivered by a Beatle. It's actually a Dandy Nichols line quite early on in the Help movie: waving to the Fab Four as they get out of their chauffeured limo and walk to their respective front doors, Nichols says to her friend about how fame hasn't changed them: "And still the same as they was before they was." 

Bringing It All Back Home

In true Magnus Mills style I guess it was inevitable that when a local record listening club got a little too priggish, a breakaway faction would eventually peel off and try things a bit differently. And what better way to listen to cherished albums than in the comfort of your own living room; with a select guest list, a varied assortment of hot and cold beverages and, of course, some quality listening material, what else do you need? Bringing it all back home.

Bob Dylan - She Belongs to Me (1965)

Still Playing at 78

Got a birthday in December? I'll drink to that!

My dad has got a birthday coming up in the next few days with mine following on a few days later. And his dad, my Pop, would have celebrated his birthday the day after mine. All these family birthdays dotted around Christmas have invariably meant that unlike a regular birthday falling in, say, July, these dates don't have their own identity; they just become part of the C word. You try arranging something in December between the 21st. and the 31st. and see how far you get; pound to a penny it'll be a 'no can do, we've got Christmas and/or New Year parties to go to.' The subtext being 'why can't you have a normal birthday like everybody else?'

So for that reason I'm getting in early, before the onslaught of fake bonhomie, mince pies and Cliff bloody Richard, and taking this timely opportunity of wishing the Old Man 'Many Happy Returns'. I'm sure he won't mind me telling you that he'll be 78; a very sprightly 78 - he still manages to pull in a round of golf three times a week. And, anyway, it gives me chance to publish the photograph above (taken circa 1965) that I only saw for the first time at our, now legendary, family summit a few weeks ago.

Happy Birthday Dad!