“Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band”

Always the same lyric brings Pop to mind, not that he is ever far away.  I don’t know if Pop ever came to Southport, but I doubt it.  If Mum knew he gigged here we wouldn’t have come, and she would have known.  Mum kept a diary, its shot and tired now.  It’s a list of all the places he played, and how he went down.  I know that for sure because it is written inside the cover.  She has beautiful writing.  Boys often dig for secrets when their parents are out, finding condoms and Christmas gifts; I wanted to get to know Pop.  Mum got back before I got to ‘S’, but I’m certain it would have been too tough for her to come if she had known he sang here. 

“Hold me closer tiny dancer”

We got Clay after Pop passed.  He was supposed to be a guard dog but he’s a joke.  He’s a boxer, so I figured Clay was a cool name, but maybe we should have called him Audley.  He’s red, with a black mask.  He’s four now.  I get such looks singing aloud, some people laugh and the old ones just tut.  Pop used to say, I remember, “You’re Welsh with a beautiful voice.  Bloody use it, don’t be afraid!”  Whenever I walk with Clay I sing, it keeps the crazies away.


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