My recent discovery of, & an addiction to, twitter has inspired me to kickstart my stalled-in-1st-gear blog, albeit on a different track.
This is something I wrote in a hurry on a BBC Strictly Come Dancing message board, back during the John Sargeant controversy.
With the benefit of time I've tarted it up a bit; it may now even make sense.
The Dancer
“I have a dream” she said, “to be a dancing queen!”
“But Chiqitita” (for that was her nick-name) “does your mother know?” cautioned her brother Fernando
“No - but to follow my dream I must be as brave as a super trouper!”
“You mustn’t do this! You’re always rushing around: another town, another train! And when did you learn to dance?”
“When I kissed the teacher!”
Shocked, Fernando ran off to tell their mother
Rushing in she cried ”Honey, honey - he is your brother! You should listen to him!”
“This family never does anything; at least one of us is trying!”
This struck a chord. “You really want to do this?” mother said, relenting
“I do, I do, I do, I do, I do!”
So, an SOS to the BBC then the ring, ring of the ‘phone & she took the train to Waterloo & waited for her day.
Her day came: she left & she danced for the four.
“Mamma mia – you stink!” said one
“You can’t dance, but you can lay all your love on me!” said another with an unpleasant glint in his eye, at which she was embarrassed.
“Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight!” said another, & nobody was sure why
“You’d be better off knowing me; knowing you – you were rubbish” said the last.
“Aah!” she cried in despair. “Take a chance on me!”
“The winner takes it all – that’s the name of the game” they told her, cruelly.
So she left, gracious in defeat, turning as she did so to say “Thank you for the music”, & vowing in her heart to dance while the music still goes on.
For when all is said & done, it wasn’t about her dancing; it was all about money, money, money!
This is something I wrote in a hurry on a BBC Strictly Come Dancing message board, back during the John Sargeant controversy.
With the benefit of time I've tarted it up a bit; it may now even make sense.
The Dancer
“I have a dream” she said, “to be a dancing queen!”
“But Chiqitita” (for that was her nick-name) “does your mother know?” cautioned her brother Fernando
“No - but to follow my dream I must be as brave as a super trouper!”
“You mustn’t do this! You’re always rushing around: another town, another train! And when did you learn to dance?”
“When I kissed the teacher!”
Shocked, Fernando ran off to tell their mother
Rushing in she cried ”Honey, honey - he is your brother! You should listen to him!”
“This family never does anything; at least one of us is trying!”
This struck a chord. “You really want to do this?” mother said, relenting
“I do, I do, I do, I do, I do!”
So, an SOS to the BBC then the ring, ring of the ‘phone & she took the train to Waterloo & waited for her day.
Her day came: she left & she danced for the four.
“Mamma mia – you stink!” said one
“You can’t dance, but you can lay all your love on me!” said another with an unpleasant glint in his eye, at which she was embarrassed.
“Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight!” said another, & nobody was sure why
“You’d be better off knowing me; knowing you – you were rubbish” said the last.
“Aah!” she cried in despair. “Take a chance on me!”
“The winner takes it all – that’s the name of the game” they told her, cruelly.
So she left, gracious in defeat, turning as she did so to say “Thank you for the music”, & vowing in her heart to dance while the music still goes on.
For when all is said & done, it wasn’t about her dancing; it was all about money, money, money!
In case you haven't worked it out the story is based around the titles of ABBA songs. There are 25 of them - did you see them all?
