The penguins and polar bears knew it all along but it took Claude Lorius’ work in the Antarctic to prove that it was man who had polluted the atmosphere and who was responsible for global warming. Claude passed away recently at the age of 91 but his work will hopefully continue to inspire us to save our planet.

Like Claude the minstrels of old would pass on news in the hope that the listeners would take heed and put right all that was going wrong but as today the words were often ignored in the search of a good tune.

Traditional music is the canvas for the songwriter to lay bare the highs and lows of his fellow man. For hundreds of years the songs would tell the stories of the heros and villains, of loves found then lost and of a people recording their daily lives.

Many thanks to Javolenus for providing a great musical bed onto which I have laid some stories and contrabass, banjo, trombone and a bass drum to big for its boots.



John said is that the room where they keep the old piano
The one that Richie Thomson played before his wife became a widow
And can you see the cigar burns that were left by Amos Hawkins
When he found out his dog had died from doing too much walking

And I remember how we laughed when Crystal sang for Denver
She did not know the song she sang was written by a fella
Who was thought to be a relative of Bob Hopes oldest uncle
A man who’d shaken many trees to find a golden apple

Now my aunt Joan was left alone while her husband drank the chasers
Bought by a girl whose lipstick ran much faster than her face did

And late at night he’d wander home and howl about her makeup
But soon he’d drift and fall asleep until she brought him breakfast

Thomas Liddle knew four tunes that no one else had heard of
He said that one had made the charts in a European country
But none in the room had heard the one about a starlet
Who had danced For Kings and Presidents but was basically harmless

When David brought Goliath down the crowd screamed thats impressive
They offered him a golden cloak and fruit cake made by Neris
She was much older than she looked and baking was her prowess
On friday it was scones and jam on Saturday it was Welsh cakes

John Parker made the big time playing jazz by Tommy Dorsey
On a gramaphone from Macy’s that he’d bought by stealing horses
Then selling them to indigenous men who drank the white mans bourbon
And coming home late at night from where he was not certain

Such are the people we have known when travelling through the cities
Some positive and challenging and some in need of pity
And when the final arrow flies and darkness fills the planet
Only the insects will remain amongst the lifeless granite