When he was
young, in his teens, Ernest learned to strum a guitar. He got the hang of a few chords,
just the basics like C and F and A minor. He also sang a little, usually B
flat! Anyway, he used to bowl up every Friday night at a local pub when most of
the regular drinkers were three sheets to the wind and treat them to his hardly
recognisable renditions of the big hits of the day. He strummed and sang and
swayed and screwed his face up to show how deeply he was feeling the emotion of the words he was crooning. They always said that he was Ernest by name and
Earnest by nature! They always appeared to be enjoying his performances; after
all they laughed a lot and even joined in if the song was recognisable. All
this apparent adoration gave Ernest the false impression that he was on the way
to becoming a major force in the recording industry; one mega break, that’s all
he needed. Little did he realise the reason for his popularity.
Thirty years
went by and Ernest never did get that break. His performance tended to be in
his bedroom, or the garden shed if his wife insisted he stopped making ‘that
awful racket’ in the house. His favourite piece to play was Those Were the Days
My Friend, his personal anthem. He had a stash of beer in his shed, or studio
as he called it, from which he drowned his sorrows. The more he drank the
better he seemed to play, or at least that’s how it seemed to him. He felt that
he was misunderstood and one day he’d show the world that they had been
deprived of his talent for a generation.
Then one boring Sunday night whilst watching a repeat of a repeat of The X Factor he mumbled
something under his breath. He’d had an epiphany, a sudden realisation that the
perfect way to reach his deserving audience was via Simon Cowell. He looked
around the room at his wife and kids and proclaimed that he was going to win
the next series of The X Factor. There was a look of amusement on his wife’s face
and looks of horror from his teenage daughter and son. Their expressions
spelt out like OMG very loudly! What on earth would their friends think if their Dad
popped up on the screen; they'd like LOL!
To cut a
long, very long story short, he applied to The X Factor the following year and
was duly summoned for the auditions. He spent the next few weeks getting
himself a new look. Much to his kids embarrassment he now sported spiky balding
hair and greyish fuzz on his lower face. When he experimented with wearing his jeans fashionably half way down his back-side, the family said he’d gone one
step too far, in fact when he took one step into the street they dropped down
around his ankles. He also felt he need a catchier name to go with his new
youthful image and he duly re-christened himself Eric; if it was good enough
for Mr Clapton it was good enough for him!
The day
arrived. He had expected to be standing in front of the judges for his first
performance; it hadn’t occurred to him that there would be a preliminary panel whittling down
the many thousands to the chosen few. And of course, the selected acts which
were to go forward to the TV auditions were chosen as much for their Cringe
Factor as their X Factor. Clearly his act went down well, and when he was told
that he was to be appearing in front of Simon and Louis and those young ladies
from so called girl bands (what did they know about real music?) he assumed
that stardom was only a few songs away.
One of the
judges (a pretty girl with a Liverpool accent who he knew was once married to
millionaire footballer and sang in a
band he thought was called No Girls Allowed or something like that) asked him
what he was about to entertain them with. Those Were the Days My Friend he
muttered. Simon asked him to speak up and he bellowed the title down the
microphone causing the assembled thousands to jump off their seats as one! He
was a couple of minutes in, and he thought it was going down pretty well; after
all the judges were pulling faces at one another and the audience were laughing
just as they did all those years ago in the pub. Louis shot his hand up into
the air and the backing track fell silent as did Ernest – sorry, Eric! He had
expected rapturous applause and to see the judges on their feet clapping their
hands in utter amazement. But all was quiet. It was time for Plan B. He had another trick up his sleeve if only they’d let him try it. This time the
audience were on his side and they started calling E-ric, E-ric, E-ric. Eric of
course didn’t realise that they were more a baying mob than an adoring
audience desperate to hear more. Well, he was given a second go, and Plan B
turned out to be a more active version of Plan A with Eric attempting frantic
dance moves and even failing to perform a hand stand.
Eric –
sorry, Ernest didn’t make boot camp, in fact the only boot he got was being
booted out of the auditions. His kids asked to go to a different school and his
long suffering wife has been shopping online rather than making her weekly trip
to the supermarket. But he hasn’t given up. He’s still convinced that he has a talent
deep within him which will someday emerge to enthral and entertain the nation
if not the world.
Carry OnTuesday prompt is Those Were the Days my Friend
SundayScribblings is Plan B
(Fiction)Friday) is Drown your Sorrows
cool story,
ReplyDeletelife shapes us all.
Ernest should have sung in the shower. It always sounds better in the shower.
ReplyDeleteIt seems all of us will suffer a bout of delusions over something..loved the story...It was very good and I think I heard Ernest sing...I understand why he didn't make it. :)
ReplyDeleteI think saw that episode of x-factor...lol
ReplyDeleteIn some cases there are not enough letters in the alphabet for all the necessary plans! Loved it :)
He clearly didn't have a dog. The dog would have told him he wasn't a howling success.
ReplyDeleteI like this! It is a funny story. When I sing, I go down into the cellar. It has great acoustics.
ReplyDeleteErnest was earnest, but not talented---except in his imagination. Excellent tale!
ReplyDeleteGreat story! You never disappoint...
ReplyDeleteHere is mine:
unhinged
Great story - put a big smile on my face. Sing loudly where ever you are. Cheers, Wendy
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed reading the story!!! Applause to Eric/Ernest!!!
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed reading this. Sad actually isn't it when so many believe they are special and actually make a fool of thmeselves
ReplyDelete