Grandad At Large: A trip back in time to The London Palladium with my mum |
AS a young woman in post-war London, my mum loved nothing better than going to The Palladium to see the stars.
Money was tight but after her shifts working on The London Underground, she bought tickets for the cheap seats – "up in the gods" – to watch the greats perform on the West End stage.
Nat King Cole, Johnny Ray, Guy Mitchell, Frank Sinatra, Danny Kaye, and Vera Lynn were among them, with Matt Monro – The Singing Bus Driver – coming along a few years later as another who made her heart flutter.
She'd often go alone but, sometimes, she'd take her niece, Janis, along for a treat.
My mum’s 94 now, and it annoys her that her memory isn't what it used to be, but she still goes to The London Palladium – more or less every Sunday.
Nowadays, she has me for company because Sundays are when I go to fetch her from her house on the outskirts of Middlesbrough, where she still lives happily and independently, and drive her to my home, near Darlington, for lunch.
The journey across the A66 takes precisely 30 minutes and, on the way, she’s treated to a carefully compiled playlist of her favourite songs – old songs I’ve grown up with and come to love too.
Nat King Cole starts by sprinkling Stardust around the car. Vera Lynn is promising We’ll Meet Again. Johnny Ray’s Just Walking In The Rain. Matt Monro is painting a Portrait Of My Love. Guy Mitchell has Never Felt More Like Singin’ The Blues, while Old Blue Eyes is insisting he did it his way. And, though she didn’t appear at the Palladium, we there's room for Doris Day to wisely insist that Whatever Will Be Will Be.
Vera Lynn in 1956 (Image: Press Association)
Frank Sinatra in 1958 (Image: Newsquest)
Guy Mitchell (Image: NEWSQUEST MEDIA GROUP)
“Who’s this again?” my mum will ask whenever she hears the first bar of a song. Once told, she nods before singing along with plenty of smiles and a few tears too. She's young again.
Her favourite part of the journey is when Danny Kaye sings Minnie The Moocher, which never fails to make her chuckle.
Danny Kaye had the Palladium audience in fits of laughter (Image: Newsquest)
“It’s Danny Kaye, Mum.”
“Oh yes, I saw him doing this at The Palladium. Everyone joined in – they were in fits. It brings back so many memories,” she tells me (every time).
Much as she looks forward to a Sunday roast, she admits she doesn’t want the music to stop. She’s even been known to ask me to drive round the block a few times if a song’s halfway through.
And when we walk into the house for what she calls“the interval”, she tells my wife: “I’ve been to The Palladium again – it was fantastic. It’s my favourite part of the week.”
Later that afternoon, we set off back down the A66 and her playlist continues: Andy Williams, Perry Como, Judy Garland, Frankie Laine, Louis Armstrong, Jim Reeves…They’re all there.
“Who’s this again?” she asks. And then she remembers – every word.
The power of music is a wonderful thing.