PAGE FORTY-SEVEN: are you new here?

It wasn't long before I discovered that the Narromine High School song had been written by the headmaster to be sung to the famous Ode To Joy theme from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. Unfortunately the way it had been fitted to the tune made it sound like the above representation. I wonder what Philip Percival, the Christian songwriter who taught there after me, thought of it?

We had a few funny experiences in Narromine. One day we went into a milk bar and asked for some creaming soda. The man behind the counter asked if we wanted

crim - a - SOH - nuh, 

or

a- CRIM - a - SOH - nuh

which both sounded the same to us.  I think he meant

Do you want creaming soda, or crimson?

But I'm not sure.

Then, we were driving along a country road and came to a flock of sheep in the middle of the road. We stopped the car, and waited. A farmer came over and yelled:

Are you new here?

We discovered you can drive through a mob of sheep, if you do it slowly and don't disturb them as you move through.

And when we took our growing boy to Dundas Park, we were delighted to see him walk and walk and walk all around the big park. He was loving the freedom.

And Danny loved to play with Gran and Grandad's tennis equipment, when we went back to Newcastle for a visit.

In those days, children used to visit their parents. Parents also visited their children, but it worked both ways.

I haven't yet worked out why so few young folk travel home to visit Mum and Dad, as was done in the past.

Someone told me it's because the trip from Sydney to Bathurst is much further than the trip from Bathurst to Sydney, but it seems to me to be more than a crossing the Blue Mountains thing, because this is the experience of many parents in many different circumstances and places of residence.

Another possibility is that children whose parents have left the home they grew up in are disinclined to visit a house and town they are unfamiliar with. What do you think?

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PAGE FORTY-SIX: super revelations

I made two discoveries when we went for our medical check-ups for superannuation, just before we received our first postings to schools:

1. It isn't easy to pee at call!

It was the first time that I was given a jar and told to provide a urine sample. We gathered in the canteen at Newcastle CAE and drank lots of soft drink. Others also found this a bit daunting.

2. I was born with cataracts on my eyes.

When I went back to my ophthalmologist and asked him why he hadn't mentioned it to me, he told me that it wasn't significant, and I hadn't needed to know.

Now where do you suppose students were hoping to be sent to, after they left college?
I had spent 19 years in Newcastle, and was interested to see where the Department of Education would post me. But some students, particularly those who had grown up in Newcastle, had their hearts set on staying there. I was looking for a bit of adventure!

As it turned out, my first appointment was at Narromine, which I'd never even heard of! Narromine had been a central school (combined primary/high school) and had only just been upgraded to be a dedicated Years 7-12 High School. The town's population was 2,200 and the high school had about 400 students. The principal, Bernie Gallagher, had come from being deputy at Broken Hill High School, where there had been 400 in Year 8!

I was the only Music teacher, and had to teach Music in a science lab. I don't recommend it: there are too many temptations for kids to play with. Even if the teacher turns off the central gas tap, someone will find a way to distract you, and their accomplice will turn them on again.

I was very relieved when I was given my own classroom.

We had an appalling old green record player, issued to P E departments, for dancing classes. The sound was so bad, the kids confused the sound of the french horn with the sound of the violin. On that old monstrosity, they did sound the same!

Joan and baby Danny, 22 Sixth ave, Narromine

One day, 11th November, 1975, I went home for lunch with Joan and baby Danny and heard on the radio that the governor general, Sir John Kerr, had sacked the prime minister, Gough Whitlam. I went back and reported this in the staff room I shared with the Science department. The head teacher told me that I was mistaken. It was impossible and could never happen.

But when we came back to school the next day, did I get an apology? What do you think?

Speaking of Gough Whitlam and the Labor Party, early in my time at my new school, the Australian government gave small grants to every Music department in Australia, which was a part of an Arts grant they made. We got $2,200, which seemed like a lot of money. It was meant to be spent on musical instruments, and we did spend most of the money on some guitars and trumpets and clarinets and other instruments I thought I might be able to help students learn on.

But we also purchased a decent record player and cassette player. It made a huge difference to be able to play the music through a decent amplifier and speakers.

In 1975, Paul Hogan was very popular: mostly through his larrikin Winfield cigarette advertisements, which used Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony as their theme, with the punchline:

Any'ow, have a Winfield!

So when I attempted to play my students some Beethoven, they called him Bate Hogan, as if he were Paul's brother. I could never tell if they were serious, or were pulling my leg.

Abba was at the height of their fame, and the students enjoyed watching black and white videos of Abba's Australian TV special. So when I managed to get a choir together, their first song was SOS.

After we got the kids to sing at a school assembly, the deputy principal commented that they sounded out of tune. Thanks Noel!

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PAGE THIRTY-SEVEN: new discoveries

Getting acquainted with Joan and spending time with her at her home in Adamstown Heights taught me all sorts of things: one painful discovery was that there are people in the world who enjoy watching sport on TV.

Joan wasn't a particular fan herself, but her father enjoyed watching the soccer and cricket, and Joan's mother enjoyed watching the cricket and tennis.

I've long thought that George Bernard Shaw summed up cricket pretty well:

The English are not very spiritual people, so they invented cricket to give them some idea of eternity.

But I also learnt a lot about music from going to Joan's place. Her parents had some great gramophone records and Joan had quite a collection, which she was building up, through the wonderful World Record Club.

The only classical music I knew was the pieces I'd played on the piano or had heard in my Elective Music classes in junior high school. I was quite ignorant, because for a long while the only classical record we had at home was an old RCA Victor record of Strauss waltzes.

Later on, Uncle Dave gave me a Beethoven Fifth Symphony LP, and then Mum and Dad bought a few 7 inch records (which played at 33 1/3 RPM) of pieces like Mozart's Eine kleine Nachtmusik.

But I always gravitated towards the popular stuff, from Lloyd Price's Personality onwards. To me, classical music was like green vegetables: you know you should be eating them, but you tend to gravitate towards the meat and desserts.

But when I actually heard pieces like Mozart's Flute and Harp Concerto or Boyce symphonies, I loved them. I would say to Joan, I love this record and she would reply, The music's good, too. And it was Joan's Mum and Dad who introduced us both to The King's Singers. They had the terrific Out Of The Blue record, which is now out of print, like too many of this six voice male vocal group's recordings.


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PAGE THIRTY-FOUR: just the beginning

When I was in sixth form, I started a performance diploma course at Newcastle Conservatorium. It was a great experience, but I didn't last the year out.

I remember being nervous playing in this concert: but I still love playing the second movement of Beethoven's Sonata in E Flat major, op 7. The whole sonata is a terrific piece of music. A girl called Joan Sims played the Caprice from Bach's Partita in C Minor.

Anne Moss was a Christian girl and once took Joan and myself to a youth meeting (if I remember correctly) at St Augustine's church in Merewether. I adore the Chopin Scherzo in B Flat Minor. She played it so well, showing off its beauty and drama. I wonder whatever happened to Anne?

 
The next year, I attended a concert where William Coombes sang. He was a wonderful singer, and sang so naturally. We were privileged to hear him sing Vaughan Williams' Songs of Travel, and later the solo part in the Fauré Requiem.

It was 13th August, the day that Joan Sims got her driver's licence. I congratulated her, shaking her hand, which was rather courageous of me.

We sat together in the concert, which I enjoyed very much.

One month later, I bought Joan a present for her 18th birthday, which was Don Burrows' Just The Beginning, because I was hoping that this was just the beginning of our friendship.

It was the first Australian jazz recording to "go gold", and sell ten thousand copies.It has been made a part of The National Registry of Recorded Sound. Two of my favourite tracks are the first one, Passing the Bach and the group's terrific arrangement of Tárrega's Recuerdos, featuring the familiar intricate guitar part, but also Don Burrows' wonderful alto flute playing.

Before long, this beautiful girl played Debussy's First Arabesque for me. I was taken aback by the sensitivity in her playing. I had little nuance in my playing before I met Joan. I've certainly learnt plenty from my piano teachers, but more from Joan, who is a wonderful musician and teacher.

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