"Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs..."
Madness has come full circle, thought I, presiding over the happy commotion at Our House on a breeezy Sunday--where my 'best' consisted of a faded teeshirt, shorts and day-old beard growth. The kids were playing up downstairs, upstairs, the yard, the driveway, the street.... on just about every horizontal, vertical and diagonal surface, including the Slip 'n Slide.
"Our house
In the middle of our street..."
The sands of time work much as the sands of the shore--polishing the sharp edges of the past into a translucent seaglass-of-a memory. Sitting in the sun-dappled back yard with my sisters and my wife yesterday, I saw life suddenly snap into the form of this one-time, must-see 'Friday Night Videos' staple.
Our house it has a crowd
There's always something happening
And it's usually quite loud..."
Quite loud. We loved this song. Then, as now. We played and acted out the video. We played it at each of our weddings. Now it's playing on my iPod. Madness may not grow on trees, but it grew at Our House in the 70s and 80s. Two boys; three girls; a Mum and a Dad.
"Our Mum she's so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed..."
Then, as now. Only with my wife as 'Mum.'
"Brother has a date to keep, he can't hang around..."
I'm in the song, too... the only one of my siblings with my own line... and the only one who didn't get the joke. My entire family, half my neighbors, and the mailman hated the girl I was dating.
"Our house, in the middle of our street..."
Our House is in the middle of a different street, now. And long past my dating prime, I'm now the one who "gets up late for work." The joke's apparently still on me, though. And the mayhem continues.
"I remember way back then, when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time, such a fine time
Such a happy time..."
We did.
"And I remember how we'd play, simply waste the day away
Then we'd say nothing would come between us..."
A few miles and a few words, but nothing fatal.
"Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
She's the one they're going to miss
In lots of ways..."
In most of ways.
"Our house, in the middle of our street..."
It used to be 1985. Now my kids sing '1985.'
"Our house, was our castle and our keep..."
But for those of us who lived 1985, watching them tear the place up yesterday, all we could think of was what we saw.
"Our house, that was where we used to sleep."
Madness.
Should anybody stop by while I'm on vacation, please make sure the papers aren't at the bottom of the driveway, and that the outside lights are on. Readership is ever so slightly up, so here's a few slices of 'Wry' from the bread drawer.
Friday, July 28, 2006 at 10:26PM
