Still in Love With Hayley Mills

In what could be a race to the bottom (yes, first Brexit, then Covid and now Blogger), I need to get a few thoughts down before August 24th; not least the remaining three objects in my groundbreaking series(!), and a rather lovely Be-Bop Friday with a real life pop star. So I make that four (at least) in just over ten days. In which case I think brevity, more than ever, must be the watch word.

I make no apologies for having written about this song before; however, this is the sumptuous acoustic version. If I tried to play these chords the fingers on my left hand would fall off, I just know they would. And if it's links your after then look no further - yesterday's offering was performed by the son of the actress name-checked here in Paddy McAloon's finest hour; OK, his second finest hour - When Love Breaks Down must, I know, occupy that particular mantle.

Prefab Sprout - Johnny Johnny (1985)

Here's Johnny

This used to be me

When I was a young boy (not the silver ball playing variety, alas), I was invariably known as Johnny; at school, youth clubs, parties and in pubs it was the name I responded to. But for the last 25+ years I've just been John. Don't ask me when I lost my ny, my second syllable if you will; one day it was there, the next...it was gone. I'm sure David Essex, and any number of men of a certain age, have the same feelings about their once flowing locks. Or teeth.

And then twitter came along. @JohnMedd was taken (who are you btw and why do you not tweet?) and then old friends started resurfacing on Facebook. So now Johnny's back - muscling in on my virtual world - but I'm still John in the real (some might argue the only) world. And anyway, that's what it says on my birth certificate.

That picture in full