A confession

There was something else that I wanted to write about this morning but when it came to getting it down on the keyboard I just couldn't bring myself to do it, but mention of Arista Records in the post that I did instead has kept it at the front of my mind all day.

So,

Its time,

There is a time in everyone's life when they have to face up to their inadequacies and weakness's, a time when you have to put your hand up and confess to something so dreadfull from your past that you've hidden it right at the back corner of your mind for nearly a full generation of your family, filed under "do not discuss - ever".

So here its is...

I was once a Barry Manilow fan.

And like alcoholics I have come to realise that once you've bought your first Barry album, and then another, and still yet another, and another, then you can never say that you are cured and like alcoholism I easily lapse into periods when I can sit and listen to Barry songs again with impunity.

You're shocked aren't you ?

These fifteen months that I've spent building up a clean wholesome image of myself on these blog pages have been blown in one paragraph - my name is Jerrychicken and I am a Barry Manilow fan, there, I've said it again, call the police and have me arrested on an indecency charge.

It started in 1978 when, at christmas, I bought an imported double white album of Barry's Greatest Hits and was captivated by such masterpieces as "Could this be Magic", "Weekend in New England" and "Trying to get the Feeling", other albums followed, imported from America in plain brown wrappers so as to avoid the inevitable witch hunt that would surely have followed had the neighbours found out, "Even Now", "One Voice", "Barry", I own all of these albums and the big white one and I suspect that there may be even more hidden in the loft that I bought sub-conciously.

I'm sorry, I've let you all down, my "Musical Education" posts have now lost all credibility, I am ruined, my musical opinion is worthless, but...


...just once...

...just for old times sake...

Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl
With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there
She would merengue and do the cha-cha
And while she tried to be a star, Tony always tended bar
Across a crowded floor, they worked from 8 till 4
They were young and they had each other
Who could ask for more?

At the Copa (CO!), Copacabana (Copacabana)
The hottest spot north of Havana (here)
At the Copa (CO!), Copacabana
Music and passion were always the fashion
At the Copa....they fell in love