The Songaminute Man

by Simon McDermott

  ‘What’s going on, Dad?’

  ‘I know their game. If they want a fight they can take it outside,’ he said, raising his fists to Colin.

  Uncle Colin was trying to calm him down but Dad was just getting more and more irate. We managed to get him outside and into the car.

  ‘Come on, Dad. It’s time to go home now and we’ll get some tea,’ I said, sitting him in the car.

  ‘I’m so sorry you’ve had to see him like that,’ I said and gave Uncle Colin a big hug.

  For a split second he looked like he was about to cry.

  ‘Don’t be daft. He’s my brother, I can handle it,’ he said.

  Dad was smiling and waving away as we drove off, like nothing had happened.

  Uncle Colin and Auntie Brenda had been complete rocks since Dad was diagnosed with dementia. They would always make the time to come up to Blackburn and visit Mum and Dad. For Mum, it could be incredibly lonely living with my dad, and Auntie Brenda and Uncle Colin’s visits were a break from the madness.

  They were so patient with Dad and his condition, and it was difficult to understand why he would suddenly try to have a fight with Uncle Colin, who always looked out for him.

  On Monday I got a call from Alex Van Langer.

  ‘Are your mum and dad free this Friday to come to Abbey Road? We’ll do the mastering at the studios and some photos for the press.’

  To be honest, I was half-expecting Alex to call up and say that he didn’t really feel the recording went that well and we’d have to get Dad back in to record. I was taken aback to hear that they had everything they needed.

  By Wednesday, Decca had arranged a meeting with me, the Alzheimer’s Society’s press team, and their own press and media department at their head offices in West Kensington to go through all the tracks that we’d recorded and to talk about Dad’s story.

  We talked about what songs we could release as a single – narrowing it down to ‘You Make Me Feel So Young’ and ‘Quando, Quando, Quando’.

  For me, releasing ‘Quando’ as Dad’s single didn’t feel right. It would just make him seem like a novelty act. Luckily, everyone else agreed. It was decided that ‘You Make Me Feel So Young’ would be the A-side with ‘Quando, Quando, Quando’ the B-side.

  The team wanted to make it public that Dad had been signed up with Decca as soon as possible, with details of how people could pre-order the single before its release. We were all set.

  I came out of the meeting, got to the end of the street and called up Mum straight away. I was buzzing with excitement. Dad was releasing his first CD with a major record label. It was madness!

  Mum and Dad arrived from Blackburn on Thursday night and we went to the local Lebanese, as we always did.

  On the Friday, I thought it would be great to drive Dad around London with him singing along to his own songs. So, I hired a car and we set off around 10 a.m., just after rush hour. There was no plan as to where we were going but we had the music on and Mum and Dad were enjoying just looking out of the window. But as soon as we came close to Buckingham Palace, Dad burst into ‘Quando, Quando, Quando’. At one point, just outside the Palace, a cab driver in the next lane noticed us and pointed, mouthing, ‘Is that him?!’ I just nodded back, smiling, and carried on singing.

  As we drove down the side of St James’s Park we got stuck in some slow-moving traffic just as ‘Quando’ started to play again.

  ‘Oh no,’ I thought.

  Despite driving around all morning with the windows down, I really didn’t want the attention while we were sat in traffic and there were tourists everywhere.

  But it was too late. Dad was already going full blast and by this point he was literally hanging out the window singing along, having the time of his life. I sat staring straight ahead, sensing people looking.

  ‘Oh my God! They’re all taking photos of us,’ said Mum.

  It was incredibly embarrassing, but, I have to admit, it felt amazing. By this time there must have been a crowd of about twenty people standing in a group, listening to Dad singing. As we inched up the road, the next song that came on was ‘You Make Me Feel So Young’. As ever, Dad was going for it. They must have thought we were from the circus.

  Eventually the traffic started to move. By this time there were a group of tourists stood at the traffic lights on my side of the car. As we passed them, one of the guys shouted ‘The Songaminute Man!’ as we drove off.

  ‘I can’t believe that,’ Mum said. ‘They knew who he was.’

  After lunch, we took a cab to Abbey Road Studios. Dad had no idea where we were going or why, but he was in a great mood and excited.

  Alex met us at reception with a couple of photographers and a film crew. We did a few snaps on the front of the steps with a mock-up of the sleeve from Dad’s single.

  Then we made our way down to the zebra crossing, attempting to recreate the famous Beatles’ walk. It was like herding cats. Not only was the London traffic having none of it, honking their horns and shouting at us to get out of the way, but Dad had no concept of why we had to stop in the middle of the crossing. Instead he would help other tourists across the road, behaving like a lollipop lady. I think at one point he was even walking arm in arm with a little old lady. Total chaos.

  Afterwards we took a taxi down to a pub to grab a bite to eat. We sat at the back and ordered some food but Dad immediately got annoyed because he was sitting in the corner and ‘not facing the audience’, a group of people eating their dinner. Eventually the guy opposite caught my eye.

  ‘Is it him?’ he asked.

  ‘Yep, it is,’ I smiled back.

  ‘I knew it!’ he said. He turned to the rest of his table saying, ‘That’s The Songaminute Man!’ Then he took out his phone and showed everyone on his table the video.

  Dad immediately started talking to the table as if they were children. ‘Hello! What’s your names?’

  They were all adults. I had no idea what was going on in Dad’s mind at this point. At one point he said he could see a band – the hallucinations had started. We finished our food and then went back to my flat in Borough. It had been a good day.

  But the next day, I’d been in the gym for about twenty minutes when I got a message on my phone: ‘Come home asap. He wants to go.’

  Oh, Christ! This was all I needed. I rushed back home to find Dad slamming the doors, trying to get out of the flat. Mum was in my bedroom in floods of tears.

  ‘What the hell’s happened?’

  ‘I don’t know, he just suddenly got angry,’ she said.

  ‘Let me out! Keep me away from THAT WOMAN. I can’t stand her.’

  ‘Well, where are you going, Dad?’

  ‘Wednesbury.’

  ‘But why? We’re in London and we wanted to spend the time with you.’

  He came straight up to me, his face red with rage.

  ‘I have THOUSANDS of women waiting for me in Wednesbury. They’re all queuing up to see me at The Cora. I’ve got to get back.’

  ‘Dad, wait! We’re in London and this is my flat.’

  ‘I don’t care where we are. Get me out, I want to get the bus.’

  ‘OK – hold on and I’ll take you.’

  ‘Keep away from me or I’ll chin you.’

  This was all I needed.

  I let Dad out of the flat and waited a few seconds to follow him.

  ‘Keep away from me, I warn you. I’ll chin you.’

  ‘Come on, Dad – let’s go for a walk and get a coffee.’

  ‘Why are you following me? You just get back with her and carry on with what you’re doing. I’m getting back to Wednesbury.’

  ‘Dad, we’re in London.’

  ‘Are we? Right! Well, I’m going back then. I have THOUSANDS of women there waiting for me. This place is deadsville.’ And he stormed off.

  ‘Dad, come on. It’s me, I’m Simon, your son.’

  ‘I don’t care who you are or what you do. Keep away from me or you’ll have two broken legs.�
�

  No matter what I said he was having none of it. I let him storm down the street but gave him some distance, watching him working out which way to go. Then he came back up the street, raging and talking away to himself.

  Mum and Dad were returning home to Blackburn that afternoon and I was terrified that he wouldn’t have calmed down by then.

  Watching Dad in this rage while being so lost was horrible to see. Whoever he thought I was at that moment in time, he utterly hated me. And Mum. It was pure rage.

  So there we were. Dad storming through the streets of Borough, past tourists going to Borough Market, and disinterested Londoners, telling people to, ‘Get out my pissing way’ with me dashing after him, apologizing to people.

  I eventually caught up with him and tried again to reason with him.

  ‘Dad, are you looking for the bus?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, why don’t we go back to mine and have some tea and I’ll take you there afterwards?’

  ‘OK then. But make sure she keeps away from me.’

  I got him back to the flat, made a cup of tea.

  ‘There’s something wrong with her. She’s cracking up. I don’t know what it is. I do everything to please her…’

  ‘Maybe she doesn’t feel well.’

  ‘Do you think?’

  ‘Why don’t you go back in and check that she’s OK?’

  Mum was still in my bedroom. Her poor face was red from crying. She was wearing some of her best clothes for London, but she looked utterly broken. It was horrible to see.

  ‘Go on. Why don’t you ask if she wants some tea?’

  ‘OK then.’

  Dad got up from the sofa and went into the bedroom.

  ‘What’s a matter with you?’ I heard him say.

  I let them get on with it. I knew that he was now a lot calmer. His rage had gone and he just wanted to make sure that Mum was OK.

  ‘Are you OK, you two?’ They’d been talking calmly for a while and I’d gone to check on them.

  Dad had his arms around Mum and they were cuddled up on the bed.

  ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’

  ‘Go on then, Sime. Have you got any cake?’

  Things were OK.

  But not for me. I felt fed up and drained. I just wanted all this aggression and shouting to end. Who in their right mind would put up with all this drama constantly? I felt that I had nothing to give anyone but stress. I’d go through Facebook and see hundreds of pictures of people on holiday in Mykonos or Ibiza, including my ex, who looked like he was having the time of his life. It just compounded my misery. I felt utterly alone.

  I sat on the couch and stared at the wall.

  That afternoon, as Mum and Dad were packing their suitcases to go back to Blackburn, Mum came into the lounge.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ Mum said.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said and just stared at my phone, scrolling through the Facebook newsfeed.

  ‘What’s the matter? You look like you’re going to cry.’

  ‘Honestly, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. It was busy yesterday.’

  ‘Come on – what’s the matter?’

  ‘I’m fed up.’ I buried my head in my hands.

  She came and sat next to me.

  ‘What’s happened? Why are you so upset?’

  ‘It’s just everything.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s just everything. I mean, look at us. Look at me. I’m 40. I’m single. And this. All this. Who in their right mind would want anything to do with this?’

  ‘Come on, you’ve got loads going for you. You’re still young. You’ve got a good sense of humour. You’re good-looking. You’ve got your own flat,’ said Mum, reeling off anything positive to try and make me feel better.

  ‘But who would want any of this? No one in their right mind would want to be in a relationship with me with all this…’ It felt like everything was falling apart. I’d never be able to introduce a partner to Mum and Dad without the madness getting in the way. If I’m honest, all I wanted right at that moment was to know that there was someone who would be there for me; who knew what it felt like to be in the midst of this madness; who would say, ‘I know this is shit, but I’m here for you no matter what.’ But there wasn’t.

  I ordered a cab and Mum and Dad were whisked off to Victoria Coach Station.

  I had handed in my notice at work as things were so difficult at home. The plan was to move back to Blackburn for a while and get a temp job while helping out Mum at home with Dad. Little did I know that life was about to change even more dramatically.

  At my last week at work I was stressed-out, trying to get my handover notes finished and replying to messages on the Songaminute Facebook page. There were still hundreds of comments and messages coming in every day, and I was trying to build Dad’s website ahead of the press releases going out on Friday. I was up most evenings, trying to sort the website using a painfully slow Internet connection. I was exhausted but knew I had to keep going as this was Dad’s one and only chance.

  One night I was on the online chat to the web host, trying to solve the problem with the site. Whoever was chatting to me in customer support suddenly stopped, saying that he’d watched all the videos and thought it was brilliant.

  Thursday was my last day working at head office in Barkingside. It was time to say goodbye to the team. By now most people in the building knew that Dad was making a single. People came up to me all that week, revealing that they were going through exactly the same thing as we were. It was incredibly humbling to think that all these people I worked with hadn’t mentioned a thing about what was going on in their own home, and yet they’d now decided to share their story with me.

  I said my goodbyes and stepped out the door. Then I heard a banging on the windows. The entire team was taking photos and waving at me.

  ‘Are you famous or something?’ said a woman as she got out of her car.

  ‘Not at all. My dad is,’ I said, and walked off.

  As I walked towards Barkingside Tube for the very last time, I got a call from Decca Press Office.

  ‘Simon, can you do a quick interview with The Times as soon as you can? It’s just for a small news item but they need some quotes.’

  ‘For sure.’

  ‘OK. Everything’s ready. The press releases have all been sent out. How’s the website looking?’

  ‘Oh, fine. It’s going to go live later today.’

  I was lying through my teeth. I was having loads of problems with the hosting company as well as pointing the webname to the site.

  ‘If you need anything, call me, but everything should be sorted.’

  ‘OK.’

  Around 7.30 p.m. I had the phone interview with the guy from The Times – it took a lot longer than I’d expected, and I was worried about getting the website up and running.

  I worked until late into the night sorting out the site, uploading copy, tagging YouTube videos and making sure all the links were working.

  I still hadn’t received details from Decca of where people could buy the single. Just as I was going to bed, I saw the messages beginning to arrive on the page.

  ‘Congratulations on getting the record deal! Where can we get the single?’ they said.

  People had already seen the news. I did a quick Google and found the news was already out on the Daily Mail. There was nothing I could do. I just prayed Decca had the links for me first thing in the morning.

  That night I hardly slept. I kept waking up to check my phone. The word was out that Dad had been signed by a record company and messages had started to flood on to the page.

  By 7 a.m. I was up and showered. My friend Rob WhatsApped me.

  ‘Simes, you’re all over the BBC!’

  I was too stressed to even bother to reply.

  At 8.30 a.m. I received a phone call from Decca.

  ‘We’ve had a great response so far to the press release. How are you for in
terviews today? We may have a couple lined up for you if you’d like to do them.’

  ‘Yep – no problem.’

  ‘Great. They won’t take long, five minutes at most.’

  As I left the flat, Nick messaged me: ‘Si, have you seen the papers?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You should! Make sure you get The Times.’

  I dashed into Sainsbury’s on Borough High Street and picked up a copy, expecting a small news item about Dad’s single, and turned the front page to find page three devoted entirely to Dad’s story.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ I said out loud.

  I couldn’t believe it. Page three! Of The Times!

  By the time I got back to my flat there was a news crew from Channel 5 waiting at the gates. As soon as they left, BBC News came in. As they were setting up I was doing radio interviews for LBC then Radio 5. It was a conveyor belt of interviews all day. I was excited but exhausted, and had a huge cold sore on my top lip.

  Someone from Decca had come round to help organize everything. ‘I’ve never experienced anything like this,’ he said. ‘This is unprecedented, mate.’

  By the afternoon I was going live from my living room to CTV breakfast news in Canada. Then it was an interview with ITV’s Nina Nannar, followed by Sky News.

  Around 5 p.m. I was being driven to the Channel 5 News studio. I had two radio interviews coming up. By this time I had no idea who they were with. It was an utter whirlwind, but I had to keep going. This was Dad’s last chance of making it big and no way did I want to miss a thing.

  When I arrived at the news studios, the nausea kicked in. I hadn’t eaten properly all week and had been up most nights trying to sort the website ahead of the press release going live. I sat down in the green room with the news presenter and the rest of the production crew. Despite the coffee I felt myself getting the sweats – the ones that you get just before you’re about to be sick. I couldn’t hold it in any longer so I took myself to the bathroom, where I was wretching up nothing but coffee. Ugh! How was I going to be able to do this?

  I went back to the green room and made myself another coffee with four teaspoons of sugar. Everyone was asking questions about Songaminute and Dad. I was in a complete daze. The next minute I was being taken into the studio. It was a quick chat. And then we were off-air.