Last night I had a date. It was a lovely night. We ate Chinese food and drank wine. He made me laugh and told me I looked beautiful , He made me smile.
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That's not the point of this post. I just wanted to share the news.
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The real reason behind this post is the fact we watched a movie. Muppet Treasure Island. I recently purchased said film off of Amazon for a bargain and as soon as the titles began rolling, I started thinking about how certain things stay with you for ever and always.
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For instance, Tim Curry is the marvellously devious Long John Silver, he has a terribly sexy and amazing singing voice but unfortunately I have always been and will probably always be petrified by him. Why? you ask me. The cross dressing of Rocky horror? No. Pennywise? A little bit bit not the full reason. I'll tell you why, Hexus.
Ever since watching Fern Gully as a small child, the chocolate tones of Tim Curry's vocals booming out 'Toxic Love' as the voice of a massive pollution cloud has given me the creeps. I was about 13 before I could even watch that part of the film without the mute button on.
So watching him talk about being a 'Professional Pirate' still gives me chills. Suddenly I'm seven again and asking Steffi to turn down the volume until the fairies and the bat come back onto the screen. Funny how some things stick.
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It's like smell. I've posted before about the guy on the bus who smelt like my grandfather. The smell made me feel so sad I had to move. Smell takes you to a whole different place without an ounce of trouble.
There's the smell of Christmas eve. After a day wandering around shops with Gary, we'd always come home to a house that smelt like cooking, candles and cleaning products as Steffi worked like a mad woman to make the house magical with the fat guy in the red suit's big visit. Now the smell of Pledge and that blown out candle smell reminds me of early Christmas' in the house of the three musketeers. (A name given to us by Gary)
Or the smell of hairspray that without fail puts me into a dressing room in Fareham, surrounded by dancers and listening as Steffi tells me I need to put my lipstick on as my section starts in ten minutes.
Or the tub of body lotion that sits on my bed side table. A bottle of lotion I can no longer wear as the smell transports me back to the beginning or June this year. A time I don't really want to think about anymore.
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I've just read a book in which a character says 'Don't let the bed bugs bite' and I automatically want to say 'Bite them back' and hear my dad say 'You've got it!'
Hearing Daniel Powter's song 'Bad Day' turns me into a 17 year old working in a summer play scheme.
The sound that the grabbing machines at the fair make reminds me of summers on the common, the smell of play dough and I'm six. The music at the beginning of Muppet Christmas Carol. Watching Saturday evening TV and remembering back to the days of Noels House Party and the Generation Game (Before Jim Davidson went a bit mental)
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Memories are what make us a suppose. They give us stories to tell others. They bring us our home comforts when we're miles away. Even the ones that make you sad help you in the long run. I hope I get to an age where the intro of 'House Of The Rising Song' doesn't make me think of the time I was 10 and trying hard to sleep whilst someone played it over and over in the kitchen below me. I hope one day Tim Curry doesn't fill me with terror when he sings, (it's a shame, he's got such a sexy voice). I hope my date last night has happy memories of the evening. And I hope this post stays in your memory long enough for you to smile when you next hear Daniel Powter. I won't hold it against you if you don't though.
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Happy Halloween
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