Postcard from Bishkek

Isn’t it annoying when you get a tune in your head and you can’t get rid of it.

When it happens to me I find that it is usually just a short phrase, maybe a line or two, from a song heard long, long ago.  It goes round and round in my mind, repeating over and over and I just can’t get rid of it.

This happened to me on Monday evening … the phrase that I kept humming to myself were the opening lines from a song recorded back in the 1960′s by the English singer and comedian, Max Bygraves, sung in a heavy East End London, working class, accent:

“They changed our local Palais into a bowling alley
and fings ain’t what they used t’ be …“

There’s Teds wiv drainpipe trousers
and Debs in coffee houses
and fings ain’t what they used t’ be
There used to be Trams not very quick
Gotcha from place to place
But now there’s just jams ‘alf a mile fick
Stay in the human race… I’m walking

They stuck parking meters outside our doors to greet us
Now Fings ain’t what they used t’ be

Corr! monkeys… flying round the moon
We’ll be up there with ‘em soon
Fings ain’t what they used t’ be

Once our beer was frothy
but now its frothy coffee… well
Fings ain’t what they used t’be
It used to be fun Dad an’ old Mum
paddling down Southend
But now it ain’t done
Never mind chum
Paris is where we spend our outin’s
Grandma tries to shock us all
Doing knees up rock ‘n’ roll
Fings ain’t wot they used t’ be

We used to have stars
Singers who sung a Dixie melody
They’re buying guitars… plinkty plonk
Backing their selves wiv th(f)ree chords only
Once we’d dance from 12 to 3
I’ve got news for Elvis P
Fings ain’t what they used taaa
There’s a lot we used taaa
Fings ain’t what they used taa beeeee

The song was the title song of “play with music”, (as opposed to a “musical”), set in the East End of London.   The plays Dramatis Personae included a selection of low-life characters: gamblers, spivs (a sort of petty criminal, who dealt in stolen or black market goods of questionable authenticity during the war and 1950′s), prostitutes, Teddy boys & girls (snappily dressed young boys and girls who belonged to a subculture associated with the introduction of American Rock and Roll music in 1950′s Britain … interestingly, the first group in the UK to identify themselves as “teenagers” – less salubrious is the fact that they often formed gangs which became involved in violent conflicts with other gangs and with immigrant groups) …  and some police who were “not-too-honest”.

Because of its setting, the dialogue was peppered with Cockney Rhyming slang, and a “dictionary” had to be printed in the programme.  Despite this little handicap it successfully transferred from a theater in East London to the Garrick Theater in London’s West End where it enjoyed a two year run.

The music and lyrics for the songs were written by Lionel Bart.  Apparently the title song  was the only number in the show that was in any way memorable, although the lyrics had to be bowdlerized to make it suitable for general release  as a record.

So what dragged this piece of flotsam and jetsam from my youth into the foreground of my mind on Monday evening?

Svetlana suggested going to our local “Palais”, (the Kino Rossiya – or “Russia” Cinema – which hasn’t exactly been turned into a Bowling Alley, it still operates as a Cinema, but where they constructed three lanes in the basement when it was renovated last year).

Now, her friend, Jesse, is an American and I realized straight away that he was going to be a reasonably skilled player – maybe not up to Fred Flintstone’s standard but, all the same, someone who could probably wipe the floor with me – especially when he said that his best score was up around 175 … “He gets scores into three figures!”, I thought to myself with dismay,  (the maximum possible score is 300), and wondered if it might have been a little rash of me to agree.

When we turned up, however, the staff at the Cinema said that they had “a little technical difficulty” and the Bowling Alley wasn’t working.   Maybe the fates had come to my rescue … but, no.  There’s another alley in the city, with sixteen lanes, so we set off to go there instead.

As the kids have never bowled before, I suggested taking two lanes, so that we, (the adults), could play a proper game while they had a try-out … and we could take time to coach them without interfering with the serious business of the evening.

My name was first on the list so I had to bowl the first ball of the evening.  I took a10-ball which felt comfortable in my grip, lined up, fixed the first pin in my sights, took a couple of steps towards the line and released the ball.  To my amazement it went straight as a dye and struck the lead pin and they all collapsed – a Strike!  I wasn’t the only one amazed … the look on Jesse’s face was a picture to behold … he must have been a bit shaken because he only knocked over eight pins on his first ball.

It didn’t last, however.  The next frame – I only managed to knock down nine pins – still, I was in the lead.  The next frame saw me return to my usual form as both balls swerved into the channel at the side of the lane and I achieved a nice round score – Zero.  I descended from first place to third … and was to spend most of the evening in the same position – finally ending the first game with a score of 90.  During the evening I did manage to get another couple couple of strikes, and an odd spare.

I wasn’t totally humiliated, however, as I did manage to get a higher score than the kids, which wasn’t really surprising as it was their first time.  In fact they were doing well, very well considering it was their first time.  Although there were quite a few frames with “null points” – but there were also the odd strike and spare.  We had to explain the complications of the scoring system when Maxim complained that his score wasn’t being displayed – “I got a strike – where is it? why haven’t they put up my 10 points?”

All in all, it was a good evening, and we were all sorry when it came to an end.  Two of the kids are already asking when we can go again.

There was only problem …

I can’t get those two lines of that song out of my head!

Tags: Baseball_Kids, Expat, Life_in_Kyrgyzstan, Trips