Friday 29 May 2009
Friday.
We went to a funeral in Ipswich today. Been to far too many this year. I think it's seven. Today's funeral was that of Angus Andrews. We sang in the same male voice choir for thirty five years. He had a deep, rumbling, bass voice. We were (as Gus would have said) fellow basso profundos. He could sight read far better than I, and had the nearest thing to perfect pitch that I ever came across. It would have been impossible to stand next to Gus and sing out of tune. He was always ready to give gentle guidance and advice to younger singers. When he was almost completely deaf, and provided he could see the conductor and the score, he was still a great assett to the choir. I think he'll be an assett to whatever choir he's singing with now.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Gus is probably already busking for ambrosia on the Elyssian fields (just outside Ely I believe!) I suppose dying is a politically correct method of registering your disapproval of keeping deanery towers locked when choristers want to skip blithely up 'em? I know you'll miss him sorely though.
I'm sorry you've had such a miserable time of it; time for a big scotch in Gus's honour and the family toast.
Horners! Who's Like us?
Damned few.......
and they're all dead!
Loving Blessings
'ickleBruv.
v word is latin for eating nougat...it goes well after whisky!
nougere
Thank you Crowbard.
I think the Scottish version of that toast is :-
Here's tae us,
Wha's like us ?
Damn few and they're a' deid.
Love to you both, Mike and Ann.
Post a Comment