Ambling along the canal with the Statler Brothers
“Smokin’ cigarettes and watchin’ Captain Kangaroo”
I have a ritual whereby the music I listen to whenever travelling to the rivers and canals of central England becomes central to the beginning of the story. The music is always an album, always, and the artist or band I’ve listened to recently. So after listening to “Dark Side of the Moon” by Pink Floyd last evening I was going to spin you a yarn of being a fresh faced, long haired college newbie who when listening to “Delicate Sound of Thunder” for the first time in 1989 returned the CD to his good hearted friend Gareth with a firm “thanks, but no thanks”. Gareth though was wise to my foolish music buying choices as I was still a U2 fanatic whilst having dalliances with the dark side of “Hair Metal” and more than a little Guns n Roses, and so of course I listened to the 5 album live box set of Bruce Springsteen and said thanks but no thanks and so I had a little form and Gareth, an ever smiling kid, for we were, just kids, simply smiled and said “just listen again”.
He was right of course, as was I with the underrated (or overblown) Australian rock band INXS (I implored him to listen to their album “Kick”) and whilst Gareth swooned over the Happy Mondays and The Stone Roses (Roses over the Mondays for me. Saw them live just once and probably dribbled over the guitar playing of John Squire) I became fully acquainted with the majesty of The Boss and started a lifelong love affair with Pink Floyd that was cemented on a night my friend implored me to “just listen again”, and so I closed the curtains and turned out my bedroom light and got more than a little stoned listening to “Delicate Sound of Thunder” thinking my old friend was right again, and I had a lot of Pink Floyd catching up to do.
I guess I could tell that story but I’d never do it justice as there’s two joyous summer’s to tell too, as well as a weekend away in Brighton watching “The Roses” or getting the bus every day with Gareth before he passed his driving test on his 17th birthday and we rode to college the very next day in his self-named “Golden Bullet”. Golden Bullet! There was more rust than bodywork colour and what remained was brown so, The Golden Bullet! Then we’d have to venture into college territory and the Thursday afternoons spent (Autumn/Winter) in the pub playing darts and drinking cider or (Spring/Summer) lying in the college sports field with the current love of my life rather than playing for the college football or cricket team.
I could tell that story too but I’m already disappearing into a smile filled reverie and wondering what 17 year old me would think if I arrived in a time machine whilst he was being naughty with Claire in the college fields and told him that in three decades time I’d be using this Back to the Future concept in a lame story written on a plastic computer that sits atop a table and without having a single wire connecting the laptop with the outside world, hundreds of millions of people around the world will instantly be able to read the words tumbling from my empty mind and onto a laptop computer connected to absolutely nothing.
I’d venture he’d need a pint of cider and a game of darts, and I’d hope the younger me would have the decorum to get dressed first.
and then lose at darts to Claire.
So where were we? Yes, my fandom of Pink Floyd. So I could tell you all of these stories and naturally implore you, yes, implore you, to listen to “Dark Side of the Moon” or “Animals” or indeed “Wish You Were Here”, but I listened to “Meddle” on the way to the Shropshire Union Canal today and after hearing “Fearless” once again I had my headline for this article:
“Walking alone on the canal with Pink Floyd”
and then I listened to “Flowers on the Wall” by The Statler Brothers at the end of a podcast on the way home, and so naturally this became the lyrical accompaniment rather than Fearless by Pink Floyd, and all the teaser stories above would appear to be in vain. Just fragments of stories and memories conjoined with music and ghosts of the past. The borrowed shirt for a blind date that led to the pool trick heard around the world and the meeting of a blonde bombshell. My goodness the early 1990’s was something else and if you lived it, I hope you lived it well.
Maybe I’ll write those Pink Floyd inspired stories another time, who knows. All I do know is that after four consecutive nights watching Test Match cricket I needed to decompress from that nighttime madness and so I returned to the “Shroppie” or the Shropshire Union Canal and took a few pictures as I squelched my way through the canal side mud. I listened to a Pink Floyd album travelling to the canal and an album by Oxford band “Foals” on the return journey. Then I heard “Flowers on the Wall”, it reminded me of Pulp Fiction, and I can’t but help but smile when I hear this song.
So here it is as a lyrical accompaniment to a pictorial stroll up and down a short but beautiful stretch of the Shropshire Union Canal.
I hope you enjoy.
“I keep hearin’ you’re concerned about my happiness
But all that thought you’re givin’ me is conscience I guess
If I were walkin’ in your shoes, I wouldn’t worry none
While you and your friends are worried about me, I’m havin’ lots of fun
Countin’ flowers on the wall
That don’t bother me at all
Playin’ solitaire ’til dawn with a deck of 51
Smokin’ cigarettes and watchin’ Captain Kangaroo
Now don’t tell me, I’ve nothin’ to do”
“Last night I dressed in tails, pretended I was on the town
As long as I can dream it’s hard to slow this swinger down
So please don’t give a thought to me, I’m really doin’ fine
You can always find me here, I’m havin’ quite a time
Countin’ flowers on the wall
That don’t bother me at all
Playin’ solitaire ’til dawn with a deck of 51
Smokin’ cigarettes and watchin’ Captain Kangaroo
Now don’t tell me, I’ve nothin’ to do”
“It’s good to see you, I must go, I know I look a fright
Anyway my eyes are not accustomed to this light
And my shoes are not accustomed to this hard concrete
So I must go back to my room and make my day complete
Countin’ flowers on the wall
That don’t bother me at all
Playin’ solitaire ’til dawn with a deck of 51
Smokin’ cigarettes and watchin’ Captain Kangaroo
Now don’t tell me, I’ve nothin’ to do
Don’t tell me, I’ve nothin’ to do”
"Flowers on the Wall" by The Statler Brothers
"Flowers on the Wall" in Pulp Fiction
Thanks for reading. Here are three recently published articles within the hundreds contained in my archive here:
"Birthday with The Beatles (and a little help from my friend)"
"Caught by the River in Ironbridge"
"Down to the River with The Boss"
"Flowers On The Wall" was written by Lewis DeWitt, one of the original members of the Statler Brothers. It was one of the first of numerous country hits they would have over several decades.