Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 27 – The Finale

Welcome to the final post in the “Weekend Diversion: 1985” series. I first did a wrap-up post for the final post in last year’s series, which isn’t saying much: I’ve only done these series for three years.

Be that as it may, last year I noticed that the posts about songs would end the Sunday before Christmas, and that would happen again this year. I didn’t bother to look in 1983, but it was the same story, as it is in many years, actually. However, it’s not the Sundays themselves, but, rather, whether there was a new Number One on the final Sunday of the year. There wasn’t one in 1983, 1984, or 1985, and there won’t be in next year’s series, either.

The thing is, the final Number One song of a year may remain there for the last Sunday of the year, too, and that means it’s usually also the first Number One of the new year, too, because Billboard usually published a two-week edition wrapping up each year. So, the first new Number One of 1986 reached the top of the charts on January 18, so the first of next year’s series will be then, too. More time to plan the series?

Each year I do more than merely look at the charts and research the songs, I also look at the “Year in Music” to see what was going on in that year, and Wikipedia make it easy by having pages for each year. So, I looked at“1985 in music” page, mainly because it talks about things that aren’t about Chart Position, and so, things I probably wouldn’t mention in a post. They’re often things I either never knew or had forgotten.

For example, on March 27, 1985, “the South African Broadcasting Corporation bans Stevie Wonder's music in response to Wonder dedicating the Oscar he had won the night before to Nelson Mandela.” On April 1, David Lee Roth left Van Halen to begin his solo career (I didn’t know that was in 1985). On April 10, Madonna launched her first tour, “The Virgin Tour”, in Seattle. One forgets every famous person had to start somewhere. On September 19, the Parents Music Resource Center's (PMRC) US Senate hearing on music censorship begin in Washington, DC. Dee Snider of Twisted Sister, rock star Frank Zappa, and country singer John Denver all testified against the PMRC’s censorship plans. One of its leaders, Tipper Gore, was the wife of US Senator Al Gore, and when Bill Clinton picked Gore to be his running mate in 1992, and that choice felt kind of icky to me because I remembered all the self-righteous busybody grandstanding of the PMRC and Tipper.

In addition to learning (or being reminded) about the music events of 1985, there were also some other things I learned this year, often by accident. I learned that the band Eurogliders was Australian, and that Dire Straits wasn’t (I have no idea why I thought they were). Worse, it was only last night that I learned that Mark Hollis, the lead singer of one of my favourite 80s bands, Talk Talk, died from cancer in February 2019. I found out because I was catching up on videos from “The Professor of Rock”, Adam Reader, who recently published a video about Hollis and Talk Talk. Adam mentioned that many people may not have known because it wasn’t widely reported at the time. That made the news even sadder to me.

Every year has good songs and—well, those that are less good. Some brilliant songs never reach Number One, and some that do—well, they’re less good. Good or bad, every pop song on the charts may carry memories for us, or help us to remember things. The songs we listened to at significant times in our life can help us celebrate, remember, heal—and feel. And, isn’t that just about the most wonderful thing ever? That, in a nutshell, is precisely why I do these series. I love pop music, I love the memories the songs stir up, and I seriously enjoy learning new things about the songs, artists, and anything/everything about them. As long as that’s true, I’ll keep doing this.

The new series, “Weekend Diversion: 1986” will begin on Sunday, January 18, 2026. I can’t wait to see what I learn—or remember—next year!

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1985” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 1 – February 2, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 2 – February 16, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 3 – March 12, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 4 – March 30, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 5 – April 13, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 6 – May 11, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 7 – May 18, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 8 – June 1, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 9 – June 8, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 10 – June 22, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 11 – July 6, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 12 – July 13, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 13 – July 27, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 14 – August 3, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 15 – August 24, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 16 – September 7, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 17 – September 21, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 18 – October 12, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 19 – October 19, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 20 – October 26, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 21 – November 2, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 22 – November 9, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 23 – November 16, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 24 – November 30, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 25 – December 7, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 26 – December 21, 2025

Boxing the days

Yesterday was Boxing Day here in New Zealand, and that meant people flocking to the shops to take advantage of the Boxing Day Sales. I was not among them. But I did buy some things. I also learned a few things, too.

Just like last year, I bought another pair of jeans because since last year two pairs of jeans now have big holes in one or both knees, and I turned a third pair into cutoffs. I also bought a black and brown belt, one of which is a replacement, and a couple shirts. It’s rare that I’ll even look at new clothes, much less buy anything, but most of my summer shirts are now suitable only for wearing around the house, not out and about. I’m trying to slowly add to what I have available to me.

I decided that today I was going to head out to one of the home centres to buy supplies for some of my projects around the house, and then maybe head up to the supermarket. I had no idea what the traffic would be like, particularly up by the supermarket I was headed to because it’s directly across from the main car entrance to The Base shopping centre. Boxing Day Sales are still on, after all.

On the other hand, many people head out of town for some (or all) of the holidays over Christmas/New Year, so I knew it was also possible the roads would be empty. It turned out to be the latter. In fact, the main (busy) road I was on had only a bit more traffic than at night. I was impressed and pleased.

The traffic was a little thicker up by the supermarket, as I expected, but there was ample parking and was able to acquire all necessary purchases (and a few unnecessary ones…). The traffic was thicker heading toward the road I needed to turn onto, but that was totally clear after that point. It ended up being a good trip home.

The project supplies were mainly for things I’ve already talked about, plus a little for other ones I haven’t mentioned, but will as I get to them. Actually, I still hope to video at least some of the projects I work on, but if that doesn’t work, I’ll at least have photos to share.

Yesterday I worked on an expressly political blog post using the Boxing Day public holiday as a starting point, but I got bored with it. However, it may resurface around a different public holiday at some point. Maybe.

In that post-that-wasn’t, I talked about how the origins of Boxing Day are uncertain, however, one possibility is that it may date back to the late middle ages and the use of the “alms box” to collect cash donations for the poor. Those boxes were apparently opening on The Feast of Stephen—December 26, a holiday for a person some claim was “the first Christian martyr”.

I’d heard that possibility before, but this time it was the reference to “the Feast of Stephen”, because earlier I’d heard it referred to by it’s more common name, “St. Stephen’s Day”. The “feast” name is, of course, a line from the Christmas carol, Good King Wenceslas, and is based on a story about Saint Wenceslaus I, who was Duke of Bohemia ca907–935CE, who some regarded as a martyr after his death.

The lyrics for the carol was written in 1853 by English hymn writer John Mason Neale to fit the melody of a13th Century Spring/Easter Carol (maybe even back then creators were wanted to use public domain works to avoid copyright infringement?). Neale’s motivation was that he wanted to revive some of the pomp of the Catholic church in the Anglican church, including Feast Days, and that’s why his carol promoted “The Feast of Stephen”. Interestingly, some folks were angry that he’d appropriated a carol for Spring/Easter and changed it to Christmas. Apparently even back then critics didn’t approve of changing public domain works for new uses.

The Christmas Carol isn’t directly related to Boxing Day, apart from the fact that they’re both connected to the Feast of Stephen. However, because I was looking into Boxing Day, I saw the Feast of Stephen and became curious about what it had to do with the carol that mentioned it, which, in turn, led to the story of its creation and who the heck “Good King Wenceslas” was.

So, this year I again bought some “Boxing Day Sale” things online for the second year in a row, and I also learned a few things, too. I consider that a win.

Welcoming 2025 and my own past

2025 has arrived—another year that sounds all future-y. Maybe that’s just me, but, then, I’ve accumulated a bit of experience in this life thing, so I may have a bit of perspective on such things. Or maybe it’s delusions? Either way, I have thoughts about it all.

It seems crazy to think that a mere 25 years ago today we’d just found out that the “Y2K Bug” had really been squashed. In the run up to December 31, 1999 there was so much panicking going on—and without the benefit of social media, or even general Internet as much as there is now. These days, such the panic would probably do what the “bug” couldn’t do—bring the world to a halt, if only briefly.

On “Millennium Night”, Nigel was the Call Centre Manager for what was then Auckland City Council. They’d arranged a special night those who had to work that (the call centre was pretty much 24-hour, especially when there was a big event, like that year’s New Year’s Eve). Nigel was allowed to invite family to join him.

That evening my cousin-in-law picked me up and we went to my sister-in-law’s house for dinner, then the three of us, plus my niece drove into the central Auckland at around 10pm to join Nigel at his work. My journal from January 1, 2000 picks up the story (edited):

We got to Nigel’s work and I rang up for him, because he had to come down and let us in. We checked in with the security guard, and went upstairs.…

There was a big buffet on the seventh floor, and we waited there watching TV3’s coverage on a big screen TV as we waited for midnight. We watched the Chathams celebrate midnight, about a half-hour before us, then made our way up the 18th floor.

Midnight came, the lights stayed on, and I’m sure everyone sighed with relief. Unfortunately, the bad weather almost ruined the fireworks. We couldn’t even see the top of Skytower, which was hidden in a cloud. Still, what we could see looked good, and we could imagine how nice it would have been if the weather had been better. We had some more champagne, then went back down to the seventh floor for more food. We rang Nigel’s folks to wish them a Happy New Year, then by around 1:30, my sister-in-law, niece, and cousin-in-law] left. I decided to stay because, in part, I could help keep Nigel awake on the drive home.

I sent an e-mail to my brother and sister at 1.30 to let them know everything was OK.

About 2:15, the Mayor, Christine Fletcher, stopped by to see the people working, carrying an entourage behind her (including one aide who was very cute). We were all sitting around watching TV, she came back in the room from the loo, I presume, and she sneezed. I said "gesundheit”, as is my custom. She said, "That's my first sneeze of the new millennium!" and I said, "and I gave you your first blessing of the new millennium." They left a little while later, and a half-hour or so later, so did we.

Things went so smoothly with Y2K issues that the Emergency Operations Communications (what they used to call the civil defence communications bunker) centre closed at about 2.30.

We got home around three-thirty, spent some time with Saibh, then went to bed around ten to four, and that was our day.

I quote that at length because it felt like such a cool thing to be part of, and was very unusual. At the same time, though, I’d forgotten some of the details, and I’m so glad I wrote that down in those pre-blogging days, especially because I probably wouldn’t have blogged about all that, anyway.

Today I discovered something else I wasn’t really aware of before, and it was thanks to this blog. I knew that there were several different times over the years that I’ve mentioned that I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions, but I didn’t remember that the first time I did so was on December 31, 2006, in my last post of that year, my very first with this blog (which began September 13 that year). Specifically, I said:

I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions. I think it just sets people up to fail, and we all have plenty of failures in our lives without adding more of our own creation.

Instead, I make some general goals for the year, things that are, perhaps, only “would be nice” rather than “must do”. I also set goals and targets low enough that they can be reasonably achieved, freeing me to make newer goals.

It’s always been that way for me, and I don’t see that changing. So, no resolutions for me, though I’ve already started what some people make resolutions about: I started gentle walking workouts, as I mentioned on Sunday (which, because of my recent blogging frenzy, seems like a month ago…). My goal is to get fitter to see if that will help me mind the mowing less, and so that I can use the cross trainer I have in the garage (I’m definitely not fit enough at the moment). We‘;’ll see—it’s just a general goal, after all.

And that’s been my New Year’s Day: Relaxing after a quiet New Year’s Eve with Leo (my usual tradition)< then today was about remembering and rediscovering my own past even as we all launch into a new year. That last part seems especially perfect for someone with a blog.

Happy New Year!

I saw the image up top on the Internet many times, and in many places. I have no idea who originally uploaded it, nor where I found it.

Jimmy Carter 1924-2024

President Carter's official portrait.

Today we all heard the sad, but totally expected, news that former President Jimmy Carter has died, aged 100. [See also: “Jimmy Carter, the 39th US president, has died at 100”, AP News].  While I never voted for President Carter, I nevertheless grew to respect him—so much so, that I wish I’d voted for him the one chance I had.

I’ve mentioned a few times that in 1976 I was too young to vote, so instead I volunteered to do some election work for President Gerald Ford, who died in 2006. There were many reasons for that, including the fact I grew up in a Republican home, but there was one thing more: I didn’t trust Carter’s religiousness.

In 1976, I was still very deeply closeted, but on some level I recognised that fundamentalist Christians were the greatest threat to my freedom, liberty, and human rights. I knew Carter was a Southern Baptist, and had helped to popularise the phrase “born again”, so I was suspicious. As it turned out, I was also very wrong about him and his beliefs.

The Carter Administration ended the ban on gay and lesbian people working for the US Foreign Service. In 1977, his presidential advisor, Midge Costanza, invited gay and lesbian activists to the White House for a meeting to discuss relevant federal policy—the first time any presidential administration had done that. In 2012, he spoke out in favour of gay people and, specifically, his support for our right to marry, something I talked about at the time.

All of this by itself demonstrates that Carter was nothing like I’d assumed in 1976, but there was far more evidence. In 2000, he left the Southern Baptist Convention after they decided to stop ordaining women as pastors. He also spent his post-politics life working for peace and justice, and by building homes for poor people through Habitat for Humanity. Put another way, he was putting his Christianity into action, something very few “evangelicals” ever do, possibly because they’re too busy ordering other people how to live their lives in ways that the “evangelicals” approve of. Jimmy Carter was never like that, and I was totally wrong about him in 1976.

After he left office, he went on to become what many people—including me—consider to be the most effective former president in US history. I remember back when Reagan finally left office I said that when Jimmy Carter left office, he volunteered to build houses for the poor, and when Reagan left office, he registered as a paid lobbyist for for a foreign government. That pretty much sums up the huge difference between the character of Jimmy Carter and his successor as president. Also, if President Carter had won re-election in 1980 I’m certain that the federal government’s handling of HIV/AIDS would have dramatically better and actually humane and just than it was under Reagan. I’m certain that there’s absolutely no way it would’ve taken President Carter FOUR YEARS to acknowledge HIV/AIDS, and it’s definite that it wouldn’t have taken him SIX YEARS to give an address on it, unlike President Carter’s awful successor.

Jimmy Carter wasn’t the USA’s best president—I doubt anyone would seriously claim he was—but, apart from the Rightwing, not many folks would say he was the worst, either, not with so many other presidents having the “worst” rankings sewn up. Personally, I think he was good man who perhaps wasn’t suited to the presidency, though he tried his best. Regardless, all of that is overshadowed by what he did over the nearly four-and-a-half decades since he left the White House.

I still wish I’d voted for him in 1980, and maybe even volunteered for him in 1976, but all any of us can do at any time is to try to do our best, as far as we’re able. Jimmy Carter did that, and I’m profoundly grateful he did.

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 11

Another week, another new Number One! On October 1, 1983, "Total Eclipse of the Heart" (above) by Welsh singer Bonny Tyler became Number One for four weeks, only missing out being Number One for the entire month of October by one week. The song, Tyler’s most successful single, was the first single from her fifth studio album, Faster Than the Speed of Night. The album was produced by Jim Steinman, who also wrote "Total Eclipse of the Heart", something I didn’t know at the time, but that was really obvious once I found it out. Steinman is often associated with Meat Loaf (especially his ”Bat Out Of Hell” album), though he wrote or produced a lot more.

The music video for "Total Eclipse of the Heart" was directed by Australian film director Russell Mulcahy, and I remember I thought it was, um, interesting. Set in a boys’ boarding school, and with supernatural overtones, helped by the gothic building it was set in, it was visually interesting, but I also thought it was a little creepy because there seemed to be a sexual undercurrent to Tyler’s performance. The video was nominated for two Billboard Video Music Awards in 1983, including for “Most Effective Use of Symbolism”. So… maybe I just didn’t get it?

The video was filmed at Holloway Sanitarium, a Victorian former private mental hospital near Virginia Water in Surrey, England. The hospital was closed in 1980, and pretty much left abandoned, before a private developer turned the facility, including the heritage-listed main building used in the video, into a private residential development known as Virginia Park. I liked the song at the time (and still do), though many of the song’s Jim Steinman wrote can be exhausting to listen to—which could actually be why I liked this and other songs by Steinman. At any rate, I never bought this album, and, in fact, the only album of Tyler’s I ever bought was her second studio album, called It's a Heartache in the USA (the 1978 album’s original name was Natural Force), and I bought it because of the 1977 hit single ”It's a Heartache”.

"Total Eclipse of the Heart" reached Number 1 in all the countries I write about: Australia (4x Platinum), Canada (Platinum), New Zealand, the UK (Platinum), and on both the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and Cash Box “Top 100”. The song was Platinum in the USA.

The album, Faster Than the Speed of Night debuted at Number One on the UK album chart, the first by a British female artist to do so. Since I mentioned that, I may as well include the album's chart performance in other countries, too: It reached Number 3 in Australia, 6 in Canada (2x Platinum), Number One in New Zealand (Gold), Number One in the UK (Silver), and 4 on the USA’s “Billboard 200” and 3 on Cash Box. The album was certified Platinum in the USA.

The next Number One Song in 1983 reached that mark on October 29, 1983, but I may have another post about “also released” songs of 1983 before that date this year.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1983” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 1
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 2
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 3
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 4
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 5
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 6
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 7
Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also
Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also more
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 8
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 9
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 10

Springing into stories

Spring has sprung in Hamilton, even if the temperatures are lagging a bit behind the times. And it’s been unusually rainy. And windy. Still, it’s Spring 2023, and I’ve been noticing the evidence of its progress. And I have stories about all that.

The photo up top is of a hebe I have planted in a tall planter on my patio. When I shared the photo on my Facebook, I said that it was “a sure sign of actual Spring”, and it is, but it’s not the best of the blooms at the moment. That side of looked plant doesn’t look as nice. As I also noted when I shared the photo:

I also noticed it needs a feed and a pruning when it’s done flowering, BUT, it’s still alive, unlike the one it replaced.

I was given a hebe back in 2020, and bought the tall planter to put it in. I never shared any of that on this blog, as near as I can tell, but I did share a photo of it on Instagram (and, I presume, Facebook) at the time. Unfortunately, that tale didn’t end well, as I explained in a comment on yesterday’s Facebook post:

I accidentally drowned the first one because, being conscientious in the hot dry summer that year, I inadvertently over-watered it. It turned that what I thought was a drainage [in the post] wasn’t—it was a raised bump. Oops. Before I replanted [with the new hebe], I drilled several holes in the bottom of the pot, and this plant has been happy in its not swampy home.

Aside from noting the obvious fact that I should’ve verified drainage before potting up the first one, I also should’ve studied up on care of hebes. Ya don’t know what ya don’t know, and all that.

Yesterday evening then produced another photo, less directly related to Spring:

When I shared the photo on my personal Facebook, I said:

A few minutes ago, I stood up to give Leo his dinner and glanced out the window—this photo is what I saw. The tree in the foreground of the photo is leafing-out (another sign of actual Spring), and it’s the only one on the street I can see out my front window. It’s grown so much over the 44 months I’ve lived in this house! I love seeing it in Spring and Summer, less so when all its leaves fall off.

As usual, there’s a bit more to the story, beginning with teh fact that I actually first noticed that the tree was leafing out on Sunday, but it was either too windy or too rainy to take a photo, and that rainbow gave me the perfect opportunity in between heave rainfall. I added more background in a comment:

Around 20 years ago, I saw a rainbow when I looked out the window above my desk at work, and I realised that I’d seen more rainbows in New Zealand than I ever saw in the USA. That’s only continued in all the years since. Some might say this makes sense, that I found my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow when I met Nigel and moved to New Zealand. Probably so.

At the time I saw the rainbow from my desk, I’d only be in the country something like 7 or 8 years, but even then I was aware of how often I’d seen rainbows in Auckland (the only part of the country I’d lived in at that point), and how much more frequent it was than in the USA. Maybe it’s got to do with living in an island nation as opposed to in the middle of a continent? In any case, in the years since that day at work, I’ve seen plenty more rainbows, thought the one in the photo was unusually vivid in real life.

20-odd years ago, my desk faced what was known as “the Dominion Road flyover”, the only part built of what was intended to be a motorway replacing Dominion Road. In the 1960s, urban planners thought nothing of destroying entire thriving communities to build motorways (something I knew had happened in Chicago, especially with the construction of the Eisenhower Expressway).

While Dominion Road itself managed to recover from the near destruction, the flyover itself cut-off the suburbs of Kingsland and Newton (my first job was in Kingsland, the one where I saw the rainbow was in Newton). It was very unpleasant to even think of trying to walk under the thing along New North Road (Footpaths? What footpaths?!).

Both of the companies I worked for eventually left New North Road: The first stopped trading and made me redundant, eventually selling the building. The second company was sold to one Australian corporation that was then acquired by another Australian corporation (then another…). It eventually moved to much smaller premises, then moved again to another building, and is now back in New Zealand ownership (because its final Australian corporate owners desperately wanted out and agreed to a management buy-out of the company).

None of that made it into my Facebook posts! Mind you, this blog and my podcast is where I tell my stories, so that’s nothing new.

And finally, a blog exclusive! Here’s photo from last night:

There’s no story to this photo, except that I wanted to take a photo when the moon was over the solar panels, basically the same spot where I took the photo of the super moon at the start of this month, or the ballon that appeared above the neighbourhood a few days later. Unfortunately, I once again forgot about it. So, I took this photo standing slightly under the eaves (the edge the gutter can be seen in the upper-right corner of the photo, part of it glistening in the moonlight).

Actually, there IS a story here: I forgot about taking the photo because I was in a lot of pain last night. On Tuesday I tried using my drill to clean difficult parts of the kitchen floor, but I did so bending over to press the pad against the floor. That turned out to be a very bad idea, and beginning Wednesday evening, I started having lower back pain (the same spot I sometimes get it when I’m similarly stupidly careless in how I use my back). Also, I didn’t share the photo on Facebook because I was on my way to bed at the time. Priorities!

By yesterday, it was hard to stand up, and I started using one of my crutches to help me get on my feet and straighten my back. Once I was vertical, and the spasms passed, I was fine—I didn’t need the crutch to walk. Today, it was worse until I had my shower and let the warm water hit the sore muscles. It seems to have helped, and pretty dramatically, because the pain is now more of a soreness than the searing and gasp-inducing—if brief—pain it had been. I guess everything has a story. Even ordinary Spring days.

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 10

There was another one-week Number One this week in 1983, the sixth for the year. On September 24, 1983, "Tell Her About It" (above) by US artist Billy Joel became Number One for one week. The song was the first single from Joel’s ninth studio album, An Innocent Man. The album also produced two other top 10 hits in the USA, ”Uptown Girl” (Number 3) and ”An Innocent Man” (Number 10).

The music video for "Tell Her About It" was an imaginary appearance by “BJ and The Affordables” on The Ed Sullivan Show on “Sunday, July 31, 1963, 8:34pm”. The real July 31, 1963 was a Wednesday—which goes to show there’s no research too difficult to prevent me checking tiny details in these posts—probably? Possibly. In any case, the date wasn’t the point, obviously, it was a fantasy presentation using American character actor and stand-up comedian Will Jordan portraying Ed Sullivan (Jordan was known for doing that impression). Jordan died at 91 on September 6, 2018. The end of the video features a cameo by Rodney Dangerfield, who was a popular comedic star at the time.

Unlike a lot of pop songs, the lyrics of this song make it pretty clear what it’s about: A guy is supposed to tell the girl he loves how he feels while he has the chance—it’s not any more complicated than that. When the song first came out, I thought it was catchy, but I didn’t connect with it. I didn’t dislike the song, I just simply didn’t like it, something that’s often been the case for me. It’s actually pretty rare for me to actively dislike a song, which is—something, I guess? In any case, I probably liked the music video more than the song itself.

"Tell Her About It" reached Number 9 in Australia, 4 in Canada (Gold), 12 in New Zealand, 4 in the UK (Silver), as wells as Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and Number 3 on Cash Box and was certified Gold.

Back next week with the song that hit Number One on October 1, 1983. Also, the next post in this series will be in October! Where has this year gone?!!!

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1983” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 1
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 2
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 3
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 4
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 5
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 6
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 7
Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also
Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also more
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 8
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 9

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 9

Feels weird to be back with another post in this series only one week after the most recent one. But, 1983 had big hits, littler ones, and others, like this week’s: On September 10, 1983, "Maniac" (above) by US artist Michael Sembello became Number One for two weeks, the third of four songs to have a two-week run at Number one. The song was also the second Number One song from the movie Flashdance (I talked about Irene Cara’s “Flashdance... What a Feeling” in Part 6 of this series, and that song was Number One for six weeks from late May to early July).

The was apparently originally inspired by news reports of a serial killer, but was changed to suit the movie. The two tones at the beginning were inspired by the two-toned sirens used in the UK, as interpreted in the opening of the song by US rock band Bloodrock in their 1971 song, ”D.O.A.” (an audio version is on YouTube).

The music video for “Maniac” was, just like the video for “Flashdance... What a Feeling” just a commercial for the movie, also using scenes from the film edited to go with the music. Both of the music videos were made specifically with MTV in mind.

As I remember it, I liked “Maniac” the best of the two Flashdance songs. One thing that struck me at the time was because of the last lines of the first verse: “She has danced into the danger zone, when the dancer becomes the dance,” which—intentionally or not—references a line from William Butler Yeats's poem "Among School Children", which ends with “How can we know the dancer from the dance?" However, for me that line actually made me think of the 1978 novel Dancer from the Dance, the first novel by Andrew Holleran. I had a copy of the novel, but hesitated to read it because the focus on hedonism among gay men in 1970s New York didn’t sit well in the early 1980s—although it was also that same honesty that led to it being highly regarded among the gay male literature that rose after the Stonewall Rebellion. Maybe some day I should read it.

More importantly, perhaps, at the time the song became a hit, I was often going out to the bars and clubs with friends, and high energy music was more my thing that “Flashdance... What a Feeling” was. I associate the song with a now-defunct bar called The Loading Dock that was on North Halsted in Chicago, not far from where the city’s LGBT+ focused Center on Halsted is now—and its existence was pretty much unimaginable in 1983, whenever I walked to or from the bar, walking past the site where the Center would be nearly a quarter century later.

At any rate, “Maniac” reached Number 2 in Australia, Number One in Canada (Platinum), Number 7 in New Zealand, Number 43 in the UK (Gold), as wells as Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and Number 3 on Cash Box
.
And now this series takes another brief break: It’ll be back in two weeks, on September 24, with the new Number One hit from that week in 1983. I wonder what I thought about that song…

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1983” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 1
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 2
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 3
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 4
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 5
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 6
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 7
Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also
Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also more
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 8

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 8

And my series of posts about the Number One hits of 1983 is back! 40 years ago today, on September 3, 1983, a new song, "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" (above) by UK duo Eurythmics became Number One for one week, ending the eight week reign of “Every Breath You Take”. I said at the end of Part 7 in this series that “Sweet Dreams” was “one of my favourite pop songs of all time”, so that must mean I remember where and when I first hears it, right? Of course not—but I DO remember where I first saw the music video above.

Eurythmics was formed in 1980 by singer Annie Lenox and Dave Stewart, after their previous band, The Tourists, broke up. The first Eurythmics album, In the Garden, was released in October 1981, but had little success. Their second album, Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This), was released in January 1983 and changed everything for them. The album went to Number 5 in Australia, 6 in Canada (2x Platinum), 2 in New Zealand, 3 in the United Kingdom (Platinum), and in the USA, 15 on the Billboard 200 album chart (Gold).

According to Lennox, the song is about the unhappy time the duo were in after the break-up of The Tourists, when they thought their dreams might never be realised. The song also came together after Lennox and Stweart had broken up as a couple.

While the song immediately caught my attention because its sound was so very unique (those opening synths!), it was the music video that sealed the deal: It was unlike anything I’d ever seen—though, to be fair, music videos were still a pretty new art-form at the time. The cows and Lennox’s look were so captivating that every time I heard the first beats of the song, I’d turn and watch the video.

Lennox said that she chose her look because she “was trying to be the opposite of the cliché of the female singer”, and that she “wanted to be as strong as a man, equal to Dave and perceived that way.” According to Stewart, he wanted the make the video “a commentary on the music business but also make something a bit performance art – weird and dreamlike.” The cow in the boardroom was apparently signifying reality.

When I first moved to Chicago, it was becoming increasingly popular for LGBT bars to play music videos, and at one time there were two big bars that specifically played videos (and I first saw so many great 1980s videos in them). There were also several other bars that had more traditional set-ups, but they nevertheless played videos, and among them was one that wasn’t far from the apartment I moved into in October 1982. That bar, The Closet, opened in 1978 and is still there today. When I first moved into the neighbourhood, I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome, since it was as the women-owners still describe it, a “women-dominated bar”, however, I quickly learned that gay men were welcome there, too, and I stopped in there many times. That was most likely the first place I saw the video for “Sweet Dreams”.

One thing I find interesting about the song is that it was actually the fourth single from the album, and after its success, they re-released what was the third single from the album, “Love Is a Stranger”. The song wasn’t a success in its first release, but was fairly successful in its second release.

At any rate, the “Sweet Dreams” single was certainly a success: It was Number 6 in Australia, Number One in Canada (Gold), Number 2 in New Zealand, Number 2 in the UK (2x Platinum, and, of course, Number One on the USA (Gold) on both the “Billboard Hot 100” and on the ”Cash Box Top 100”.

This song was and is still one of my favourite pop songs because of the driving synths at the opening, the unique look of the video, and—well, all the other stuff that makes us connect with a song, and, in this case, that includes that I first heard it at the time I was just beginning to live my life as an out gay man. It was an exciting, thrilling, energising time in my life, and those synths are absolutely part of my life’s soundtrack from that era. More importantly, maybe, I never got sick of it as I did of other songs (including the one that preceded this song at Number One). That’s no small thing.

This series will be back next week with the new Number One hit from that week in 1983. It’s another song I liked in that era, though certainly not as much as "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)".

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1983” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 1
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 2
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 3
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 4
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 5
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 6
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 7
Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also
Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also more

Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also more

Last week, I published a post about three songs that, while hits in 1983, never made it to Number One. I said in that post, “and of course, there are many more in that same category, as there are every year." Roger Green left a comment on that post, and so, this post is the “Roger Green Edition”, in which I give my own reaction to three more songs that never reached Number One in 1983.

The first song this week, this time in chronological order, is “Dirty Laundry” by American musician Don Henley—however, there doesn’t appear to be a version of the music video on YouTube, which is a shame, but the audio is available there [LISTEN].

The song was released October 18, 1982, and reached its peak of Number 3 on the Billboard “Hot 100” the week ending January 8, 1983. The Wikipedia article linked to above sums up the song very well: “The song is about the callousness of TV news reporting as well as the tabloidization of all news”. I liked the song at the time, and liked both Henley’s solo work and the band he co-founded, the Eagles. I also liked the video (and, while that video isn’t on YouTube, the video for his single released in 1984, "The Boys of Summer"remains one of my all-time favourite music videos). The truth is, “Dirty Laundry” pretty accurately encapsulates my current cynical and often exasperated opinion of contemporary journalism, TV journalism in particular. Wouldn’t have expected that from a song that was a hit more than 40 years ago.

The song only reached Number 59 in Australia, but was Number One in Canada, Number 7 in New Zealand (Platinum), Number 3 on the USA’s “Hot 100” (Gold), and Number 59 in the UK. It was also Number One on the Billboard “Top Rock Tracks”, and Number 5 on the CashBox “Top 100”.

Next up, “Jeopardy” by the The Greg Kihn Band:

The song was the band’s highest-charting single, reaching Number 2 the week of May 7, 1983. It reached that number in the middle of the three weeks at Number One for Michael Jackson’s “Beat it”, dropped to 3 the following week, when David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance” was at Number 2, and then to Number 8 the week after that when “Let’s Dance” went to Number One. I mention all that because it’s a good example of a song that was a hit, but that never made it to Number One because other songs got there instead.

To be honest, it’s a song I only remember when it’s played on the radio—although, I have it on a series of 1980s music compilation CDs from Time-Life, which I ordered because of a TV commercial. That particular CD was for 1983, but a sort of “compilation compilation disc” from the series included their second-highest charting song (it reached Number 15), 1981’s “The Breakup Song (They Don't Write 'Em)”. Quite frankly, I preferred that 1981 song, but if I’d been on the Jeopardy! TV game show, I might have liked the Greg Kihn song more—in fact, I may have made it my theme song, had I been on the TV show. Sadly, I’ve never run across a song that would fill that role for me (and, no, the 1981 movie song “Arthur's Theme (Best That You Can Do)”, was never a possibility…).

At any rate, the song “Jeopardy” reached Number 11 in Australia, Number 4 in Canada, Number 17 in New Zealand, Number 63 (ouch!) in the UK, and, in addition to Number 2 on the “Hot 100”, it also reached Number 1 on BillBoard’s “Hot Dance Club Play” chart (which seems… surprising?), and Number 5 on Cashbox.

Finally today, a song that epitomises this phemomenon of a hit song being blocked from Number One by two stronger hits. That song is “Electric Avenue” by Guyanese-British singer Eddy Grant:

“Electric Avenue” was released on April 18, 1983, and reached Number 2 the week of July 2, 1983, after 12 weeks in the charts. That week, Irene Cara’s "Flashdance... What a Feeling" was spending its final week at Number One, and The Police were at Number 3 with "Every Breath You Take". The following week, those two songs would swap positions, and “Electric Avenue” remained at Number 2. That 1-2-3 alignment held until August 6, when Electric Avenue dropped to Number 6. That means that the song was Number 2 for five consecutive weeks. The Police would remain at Number One until the week of September 3.

The title of the song refers to the street of the same name in the Brixton area of London, and it’s inspired by the infamous Brixton Riot of 1981 which was sparked by heavy-handed and racist tactics used by police. Margaret Thatcher, unfortunately UK Prime Minister at the time, acted true to form and denied that racism and unemployment had any role and attacked anyone who dared suggest that that they did. She was an utterly awful excuse for a human being, really. Because few of the recommendations of the post-riot Scarman Report were implemented, riots broke out again in 1985 and 1995.

While I was aware of the 1981 Brixton Riot, I wasn’t all that aware of the whole story: By that time, I was more focused on fighting the Reagan regime. Even so, I probably heard about the song’s connection to the riots somewhere along the way, if only because most of my friends were also Left-of-Centre, and many were activists, too.

One of the reasons the song became such a big hit may well be because Michael Jackson broke the colour barrier on MTV. He became the first Black artist to be played heavily on the network, and by the time “Electric Avenue” was released, they were actively looking for more music videos by Black artists. And that, to me, is highly ironic: A song that was at its core a reaction to racism and about ignoring the issues faced by Black people was promoted by a cable network as part of its response to its own racism and refusal to acknowledge Black artists.

I liked the song back in the day—it was hard not to—but Roger had a more personal connection to the song. I have it on a compilation disc that Nigel bought at some stage, but I read that it’s not available on any streaming service because Grant didn’t like the (terrible) compensation they pay to artists. So, I checked Spotify and all I could find were covers, often using Grant’s name, however, I found other songs by him were available, so I’m not sure what’s going on.

With five weeks at Number 2 in the USA, the song was definitely a hit, blocked from Number One by two very big hits. It reached Number 2 in Australia, Number One in Canada, Number 32 in New Zealand, Number 2 in the UK, and, in addition to Number 2 on the “Hot 100”, it also reached Number 6 on BillBoard’s “Hot Dance Club Play” chart, Number 18 on BillBoard’s “Hot Black Singles” chart, and Number One on Cashbox.

• • • • •

These three 1983 songs singled out by Roger are all examples of hit songs that never made it to Number One against strong competition from other, bigger hits. There are plenty of others that met a similar fate, of course. But that’s enough for now.

Thanks for sparking this week’s post, Roger!

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1983” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 1
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 2
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 3
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 4
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 5
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 6
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 7
Weekend Diversion: 1983 – And also

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 6

This week in 1983, a new song that hit Number One, and it would remain there for a month and a half: “Flashdance... What a Feeling” from the movie Flashdance, and performed by Irene Cara. While the movie wasn’t well received, this song won numerous awards: The Academy Award and Golden Globe for best song in a movie, and it was nominated for a BAFTA, too. The soundtrack album won the Grammy it in its category, too.

The music for the song was written by Giorgio Moroder, and the lyrics were written by Keith Forsey and Cara.

I very well remember that this song seemed to be everywhere when it was Number One. I liked it well enough—or, at least, I certainly didn’t dislike it. It's hard to work out which it was I thought before all the media saturation of that time. Mainly, thought, I was glad to hear Cara again after her performance on the title track to “Fame” only a few years earlier.

The video above is the “Official Video”, which is based on the opening credits of the movie. To me, it seems more like an ad for the movie than an actual music video, as is common enough for songs from movies (especially in that era). Sometimes that’s fine, but other times? Well, in this case, the song was clearly Cara’s, but she wasn’t in the film (unlike the 1980 film “Fame”, and she also had a hit with that film's title song), so obviously she wasn't in the "What A Feeling" video. To giver her due credit, I decided to include a video of her performing the song on the 1983 Labor Day MDA Telethon:



Cara was involved in a dispute over royalties, including from the song, because she felt she wasn’t being paid what she was entitled to, both for the song and for her first two solo albums. The dispute turned nasty, with Cara convinced that her record label and others in the industry were working to vilify and smear her, and she claimed to have been “virtually blacklisted”. After years of wrangling, in 1993 a jury awarded her $1.5 million for “misaccounted funds”, essentially, accounting mistakes that prevented her from getting the royalties she was entitled to. However, she’d sued corporations, not individuals, and the companies merely declared bankruptcy, claiming they’d spent all their funds on legal fees. It’s not clear if she ever received any of the award, but she did finally start receiving royalties for her work. She never again experienced the level of success she had before the lawsuit.

Irene Cara died in November of last year from arteriosclerotic and hypertensive heart disease. She was 63. Until I researched this post, I had no idea that Cara was around two months younger than me. Cara’s co-writer of the lyrics for the song, Keith Forsey, is now 75, and Giorgio Moroder is now 83.

The song was certainly a success: It was Number One in on the “Billboard Hot 100” for six weeks, something that propelled it to Number 3 on Billboard’s 1983 year-end chart. In addition to being Number One, it was also certified Gold in the USA. It also hit Number One in Australia, Number One in Canada (2x Platinum), Number One in New Zealand, and Number 2 in the UK (Silver).

This series now takes another extended break, returning July 9 with the new song that hit Number One that week in 1983. In the meantime, feel free to “dance right through your life”.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1983” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 1
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 2
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 3
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 4
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 5

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 5

This week we resume the Weekend Diversion: 1983 series with the song that hit Number One this week in 1983, “Let’s Dance” by David Bowie, which was Number One in the USA for one week on May 21, 1983. The song was released March 14, 1983, and was the first single from Bowie’s fifteenth studio album, also called Let’s Dance. It became the biggest-selling single of Bowie’s career.

Bowie wrote the song after switching from RCA Records to EMI, but it took on its final form only after working with Nile Rodgers, who’s probably nest known as co-founder of American group Chic.

The music video for “Let’s Dance” (above), was filmed in Australia and was praised as a commentary on the treatment of Aboriginal people. To me, it’s also a commentary on the moral bankruptcy of modern corporate capitalism. Portions of the video were shot in the outback Carinda Hotel, and the locals weren’t told a music video was being shot, so their reactions—including disapproving looks—were all genuine. Carinda is a town in the far north of the state of New South Wales in a mostly sheep-rearing area.

While in Australia, Bowie also filmed the video for “China Girl”, the second single from the Let’s Dance album, and its theme was also criticism of racism. The “China Girl” in the video is New Zealand model, actress, and restaurateur Geeling Ng. While “China Girl” was a Top Ten single in the USA, it was less successful than “Let’s Dance” (It reached Number 3 in New Zealand, though). Bowie originally co-wrote the song in Berlin with Iggy Pop.

I remember being uncomfortable about the video for “Let’s Dance” (and more so about the video for “China Girl”) because it seemed exploitative—something Bowie apparently thought about, too, because he gave himself a cameo in the “Let’s Dance” video as a factory manager—something I never noticed at the time or since, only finding it out when I was researching this post. Be that as it may, I bought the Let’s Dance album (on vinyl) when it was released, and I loved it.

In 1983, Bowie launched a world tour to support the Let’s Dance album. Dubbed “The Serious Moonlight Tour”, taking its name from a lyric in the “Let’s Dance” song, the tour included eight concerts in Australia and two in New Zealand during November 1983. The Auckland show, with 80-90,000 people at Western Springs, was one of the largest concerts ever held there. I’m pretty sure Nigel told me about going to the concert, though I’m not certain and don’t remember him saying which city or country. I do know, however, that the concert held in Vancouver on September 12, 1983 was filmed and released on video in 1984. Possibly as part of the promotion of the release, my partner at the time and I got tickets to a screening at a Chicago venue. I don’t remember much about that screening, except that it was a bar-like setting, not seated, making it kind of like a video bar.

I mention all this extra stuff about the Let’s Dance album because “Let’s Dance” was the only Number One single from that album, so I won’t get the chance to talk about any of this in a future post in this series. Oh, well.

On to chart performance: In the USA, “Let’s Dance” hit Number One in the USA (Gold), Number 2 in Australia, Number One in Canada (Platinum), Number One in New Zealand, and Number One in the UK (Platinum.

This series is back again next week with another Number One hit.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1983” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 1
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 2
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 3
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 4

Crowning glory

This past weekend, King Charles was coronated as king. Some people loved it, others hated it, but a huge number were indifferent. Amid all the pomp and over-the-top showiness, questions were raised by the event: Was such an extravagant show a good idea in difficult times? Does the monarchy itself even matter anymore? Could this be the last coronation?

The last question—could this be the last coronation?—is part of why I watched. What if it is? I’d have missed my only chance to see such a spectacle live, and I wasn’t having that!

As it happens, I enjoyed the spectacle, in all it anachronistic, gaudy, pretentiousness: It was fun. There are a lot of “WTF?” moments for me, including the “anointing with oil” part, which I thought was weird itself, but the BBC commentator dutifully told us that the King was then wearing a “super tunica” (or some such—I didn’t see it in print; also, our two free-to-air TV channels carried the BBC coverage live). A few moments later, we were informed that some people we could see onscreen were “The worshipful company of girdlers”. I quite literally laughed out loud.

As the coverage began to wind up, I made a comment on my personal Facebook that was what’s now my seldom-expressed, but honestly held opinion—in this case about the whole show:

I think the religious trappings are, at best, a throwback, a quaint, antique anachronism. Having said that, can the millennium-old ceremony even exist without overt promotion of the Anglican religion? If the UK Parliament dis-established the Anglican Church, how would that affect the monarchy? Would it, perhaps, end up making the modern monarchy MORE relevant?

Neither the monarchy, nor even democracy, are guaranteed. We, the people, choose what we have. We must chose carefully.

I’ve said many times (including last week, when I talked about watching the ceremony) how much I dislike overt religiosity, especially relating to only one religion, in any governmental function. The coronation, however, is not that: It’s an expressly religious anointing of the monarch as a servant of the Anglican god. The public functions were carried out immediately after the Queen died and Charles was proclaimed King—although the phrase “God save the King” was repeated over and over again, and the UK National Anthem asks that “God save our noble King”, so even in ostensibly secular settings religion is present.

Those are actually mere quibbles. It’s a British thing, they can do what they want with it. Those of us who are secular can freely ignore and not participate in the expressly religious things. The issues are FAR bigger than that: What possible relevance does the coronation have in modern times? Much was made about how it’s been carried on for a thousand years, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t changed, most notably when Henry VIII came along and dumped the Roman Catholic church, and the coronations then became Anglican services.

In the first couple days after the coronation, I saw a few people making a passionate defence of the monarchy, but the loudest commentary I encountered came from those appalled at the cost of the whole thing, and that UK taxpayers would be paying for much of it. When poverty has soared, and even middle class Britons are struggling, some felt it was unwise to spend so much money on a spectacle. The late Queen’s coronation was only a few years after the end of World War Two, when recovery—especially economic recovery—was still not done. Few would dispute, though, that Britons needed and welcomed the distraction. But now? I’m not sure.

Of course, that’s easy for me to say: New Zealand taxpayers paid very little for anything related to the coronation, and most of our money was spent to pay for New Zealand’s delegation attending the coronation, along with some minor things here in New Zealand, like gun salutes. NZ taxpayers got off very, very lightly compared to taxpayers in the UK.

Still, I was absolutely fascinated by the odd traditions and trappings (so many swords and staffs were used!), but I didn’t relate to it in any meaningful way. In fact, what I actually enjoyed the most was watching Queen Camilla: She often had a small, seemingly wry, smile on her face, as if she was thinking about how utterly absurd so much of the hoopla was. To me, she—and Prince William giving his father a kiss—were the most real and genuine moments. The rest? Interesting, but, for me, that’s about it.

I have no idea whether there’ll ever be another coronation (or maybe just in my lifetime), nor how long the monarchy will endure. For me, watching the coronation wasn’t about any of that, though the possibility that one or both might end during my lifetime gave me a particular determination to watch the coronation coverage. Life is so utterly unpredictable—in fact, at one point in the days before the event I was thinking how I could die before the coronation and miss it and the opportunity I was looking forward to. Fortunately, a premature exit was not to be my fate last week, so it now doesn’t matter if I ever see another coronation—I consider it checked off my “bucket list”.

As for all the other issues raised—about the monarchy itself, the cost, or even the worthiness of Charles and/or Camilla personally, everyone else can (and certainly will…) argue about all that. Someday, I may even join the discussion. However, for me, and at this particular time, the whole thing was only about the opportunity to watch an historic event for the first, and possibly last, time in my life. Others can do, say, or think whatever they want, obviously, but for me the opportunity to watch an historic event was—unapologetically—the whole point of it for me. Anyone who knows me also knows that I’ve had this same motivation repeatedly throughout my life, and, hopefully, I always will.

On Monday our time, I watched the Coronation Concert at Windsor Castle. I enjoyed it, I suppose—I’m always a bit indifferent about all such shows. And this was no different. But I was struck by something: The extent to which there was the attempt to humanise Charles—or maybe to reintroduce him to the rest of us. But that feeling started the day before the coronation.

On Friday evening, TVNZ’s TV One normally broadcasts the BBC progreamme, The Repair Shop, which I wrote about last December. A factoid that didn’t make it into the post was that King Charles appeared in an episode filmed in 2021, before the Queen died, and while Charles was still the Prince of Wales (the episode first aired in the UK in October of last year). I’ve never seen Charles look so, well, ordinary before. The point of the episode was to celebrate the BBC’s 100th Anniversary and to highlight training young people in sometimes ancient trades that are still needed (especially in a country with so many historic buildings and relics), and the skills shortages are growing. One of the then-prince’s projects was essentially a training school for those skills

In the episode, two treasures were brought to The Repair Shop, and one of the graduates from the then-Prince’s programme came there, too, to do some blacksmithing work. Also, clock repairer Steve Fletcher brought in his 21-year-old son, Fred, who is a clockmaker apprentice working for his dad (Steve, meanwhile, posted clips from the episode to his Instagram Stories). The then-prince then visited The Repair Shop to see the repaired/restored pieces, and first was shown the various craftspeople, and how they’re keeping the skills alive. Host Jav Blades touched the Prince a few times, which I—knowing that Charles is now King—was at first aghast at (no one ever touched the Queen). But, then, he wasn’t King at the time, and their interaction seemed quite natural and appropriate.

Similarly, during the concert, there were breaks where various people talked about some of the work that the King had done during his life, and included some “did you know” type things. Some of the things they highlighted didn’t necessarily know, and while nothing was memorable for me personally, it all kind of contributed to a quite different image of him than I had in my head, which was probably the point.

Add it all together, and I came away from the events with a feeling that Charles just might succeed in modernising and humanising the monarchy, probably in ways that his mother—the product of very, very different times—wouldn’t have been able to do. I guess we’ll all find out in time.

As for the larger issues that people seem to want to talk about, like republicanism, that’s too big a topic for this post. I merely wanted to reflect on what I experienced watching something I’d never seen before. But I’ll certainly return to those larger topics, because there definitely are things to talk about. However, since I entered the whole thing with one goal—to watch an historic event I may never see again—I got what I wanted out of it.

And no, I didn’t take part in “the people’s homage”. At least I’m consistent.

I’ll watch the crowning

This coming Saturday, King Charles the III will be crowned as King of New Zealand (and some other places). I certainly don’t care what others will do, but I’ll be watching it on television. I have a very simple reason: It’s historic.

The TV coverage I’ll be watching begins at 7pm NZST Saturday evening. I assumed that because of the way such things usually go, there’d be many hours of blather until the actual event. Today I realised I should actually look that up.

It turns out that the coronation itself is scheduled for 11am London Time, which is 10pm New Zealand time—and not the wee small hours of the morning our time, as I’d assumed. I take this as a win: I don’t have to stay up later than I normally would (which is still later that many people I know).

I can’t recall hearing anyone tell me they plan to watch the coronation, but I’ve heard a few saying they won’t—some fairly adamant about it, too. I don’t personally care what others do or don’t do, as always, however, I’ve come to care a little bit about explaining why I’ll be watching. Good thing I have a blog, then.

I am, as I’ve said many times, a republican (lower case “r” only, thank you very much), and while I’m not exactly a fan of the institution or the new king, that doesn’t mean I’m opposed to either one. I still believe that New Zealand will become a republic some day, but it’s certainly not something I’d personally lobby for or work toward. I am, in a sense, more indifferent than anything.

Be that as it may, every coronation of a new monarch is an historic event. I’ve seen footage of the late Queen’s coronation, and of some of her predecessors, as well as paintings of others from throughout Europe. I’ve never seen a coronation live before, and there’s no way of knowing whether I ever will again: There’s no way I’d miss this opportunity.

This comes naturally for me: My minor at university was history, and it’s a subject I’ve always loved and been fascinated by. In fact, there were times I wish I’d double-majored in political science and history (I didn’t mainly because it would’ve extended my time at university, and I was eager to start doing life). This lifelong fascination and interest in history has led me to watch all sorts of historic events live.

Some of those events also had other things going on for me. For example, I watched the Queen’s funeral because, like a lot of people, I respected her, and I was sad when she died. I watched her funeral as a mark of respect every bit as much as because it was an historic event. Even so, the vast majority of historic events I watch don’t have any emotional tone to them, and the coronation will be one of those.

Watching the coronation will also be a kind of logical progression for me: I watched then-Prince Charles’ investiture as Prince of Wales on July 1, 1969 (this merely gave him the traditional title; he was already the “heir apparent”). Back then, I had no feelings one way or the other about the monarchy (I was ten, after all…), but I was fascinated by all the pomp and circumstance. That was pretty much how I felt all the years afterward.

For several years, and especially after the death of Charles’ first wife, Princess Diana, there was a commonly expressed opinion that New Zealand might become a republic when the Queen died. People’s reasons for thinking that varied, but mainly centred on the view that the respect/affection was for the Queen personally, not the institution, and that people didn’t much like Charles. In fact, I remember a lot of people expressing hope that Charles would abdicate in favour of William.

These days, Britons’ support for the monarchy is clearly declining, and the same thing is happening—slowly—in New Zealand. In September of last year, , shortly after the Queen’s death, 1News released a poll. It found that 50% of New Zealanders wanted to retain the monarchy, and 27% wanted to abolish it, which was a slight improvement for the monarchy from the previous November, and that improvement was certainly affected by the death of the Queen. Overall, support for the monarchy is likely to have a plurality of support, though not majority support, for awhile yet.

What all of this means is that the institution of the monarchy will be around for for some time. This is a good thing because the Reserve Bank of New Zealand has a stockpile of currency with the Queen’s portrait and won’t replace it until the end of its useful life. That “would be wasteful and poor environmental practice,” they said. The environmentalist King and his heir apparent no doubt approve of this decision.

I’d thought about making Coronation Chicken (just for fun, though I like the recipe Nigel used), and certainly not “The King and The Queen Consort's Coronation Quiche” [WATCH], which frankly doesn’t sound very nice. We’ll see.

There’s one more thing I absolutely won’t be doing: I will not take part in the "homage of the people," an oath of allegiance to the King—been there, done that. When I became a New Zealand Citizen in 2010, I was required to state that I “solemnly, sincerely, and truly declare and affirm that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second, Her heirs and successors, according to law.” When the Queen died, the “heirs and successors” part kicked in, and the “true allegiance” automatically transferred to Charles, just as it may one day automatically transfer to William (depending on a lot of variables). So, I consider myself to be automatically exempt.

There’s a more serious reason I wouldn’t do the "homage of the people": The wording. People becoming citizens of New Zealand have the option of swearing an oath (like the “homage”) or making an affirmation. The difference is that an oath ends with “So help me God”, just as the NZ Citizenship and parliamentary oaths do. The affirmations, however, are secular—no deities mentioned—and that’s precisely why I chose the affirmation when I became a citizen. As I’ve said many times, I believe that appeals to one religion’s deity is never appropriate for a purely secular purpose. The fact that the king is also “defender of the faith” for England’s official religion is irrelevant for non-English people and non-Anglicans of whatever description (something, by the way, that the king seems to essentially agree with, though possibly/probably not necessarily in quite those terms). So, if I wouldn’t make a religious-based oath to the queen, I certainly ain’t about to do it for the first of her “heirs and successors according to law”. Besides, the old one was transferrable. Again, though, I couldn’t possibly care less what other people choose to do—or not do.

So, I’ll be watching the broadcast of the coronation as a witness to history. I won’t be taking part in any of the hoopla surrounding the event, which isn't unusual. What choices others make is entirely up to them. This has merely been about my choices, and why I made them. Pretty much like every other post about the choices I make. Good thing I have a blog.

Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 4

The video up top is the song that hit Number One this week in 1983, “Beat It” by Michael Jackson, which was Number One in the USA for three weeks from April 30 to May 14, 1983. The song was released February 14, 1983, the third single from Jackson’s sixth studio album Thriller.

Jackson wrote the song after Quincy Jones urged him to include a rock song on the album, and Jackson said that he wrote “Beat It” as the sort of rock song he’d buy. It features a guitar solo by Eddie Van Halen, who was guitarist and co-founder of rock band Van Halen. Eddie Van Halen died on October 6, 2020 of a stroke, after dealing with numerous health conditions over many years.

The music video for “Beat It” was financed by Jackson himself because CBS Records refused to pay for it. It was filmed in the Skid Row area of Los Angeles, and Jackson decided to include actual members of rival Los Angeles street gangs as a peace gesture. The video opened up opportunities for young black dancers, and it’s often credited with leading to a boom in work for dancers in music videos. The video was directed by American film and television director Bob Giraldi, who had been personally chosen by Jackson after the original theme by Steve Barron, who had directed the video for “Billie Jean” had been rejected. Apparently, the original concept for Barron version of the “Beat It” video was for it to be set on a slave ship with Jackson as the slave master. Somehow, that doesn’t sound like a very good video, certainly not compared to what was actually made: The video that was actually made is perfect for the song.

It’s kind of hard to remember precisely what I was thinking and feeling about this song 40 years ago, especially because I’ve heard it for 40 years, however, I’m pretty sure that back in 1983, I liked “Beat It” more than “Billie Jean”. I know that these days I definitely do, so there’s that.

When I talked about “Billie Jean” in Part 2 of this series two weeks ago, I also talked about about Michael Jackson himself, and how complicated it later became to like his work. I won’t repeat any of that, however, I’ll add what I didn’t say clearly enough in that post, namely, that 40 years ago there weren’t yet any of those complications, and it was easy to like (or not) Jackson’s songs. It’s kind of hard to remember what that was like.

At any rate, every “Weekend Diversion” post about pop music has to have a look at chart performance: In the USA, “Beat It” hit Number One (8x Platinum), Number 2 in Australia (Platinum), Number One in Canada (Platinum), Number One in New Zealand (Gold), and 3 in the UK (2x Platinum.

This series will be taking the next three weeks off, and will return May 21 with a new 1983 Number One hit. Until then, however, it’s worth nothing that last week’s Number One, “Come On Eileen”, has a distinction I didn’t mention in last week's post: When it became Number One, it prevented Jackson from having back-to-back Number One hits. Whether he might have otherwise had them or not is just speculation, but it was certainly possible. As it is, we get to have one little bit of pop culture trivia to add to our 1983 list.

This series is back in three weeks!

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1983” series:
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 1
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 2
Weekend Diversion: 1983, Part 3