And for the day that’s in it we mark our fathers with the Daddy of all Songdays.
I can still hear James G (Jimmy G) in my head singing through the old house in Glasgow, 18 years after his voice faded.
Life is just a bowl of cherries, That old black magic has got me in its spell, Thank you very much for the Aintree Island.
So much so that I’ve a ceramic bowl of cherries by his headstone with my Dear Old Mum in the family plot in Donegal.
For him to nibble at when nobody’s around.
Daddy playlist
Now every one of us will have our own shared songs that conjure up our own fathers.
And while we belt out our own favourites and Daughterie turns on my playlist.
And twists my arm to belt out my karaoke favourite.
Here are five Father’s Day bangers…
Marilyn’s model
My Heart Belongs to Daddy (Marilyn Monroe): And of all the men in Marilyn Monroe’s life, she reminded us all that her heart belongs to Daddy.
Which is probably why the two men whose counsel she returned to were father-figures in Joe DiMaggio and Arthur Miller.
Although we would never have imagined the loathsome Hugh Hefner would slime his way into buying a burial plot next to him in Los Angeles.
No heirs and graces
Father and Son (Cat Stevens): And putting aside Ronan Keating wedging himself into a duet with the now renamed Yusuf Islam.
The weight in this father-song relationship rests with the son.
‘From the moment I could talk I was ordered to listen/
‘Now there’s a way and I know that I have to go away.’
Reminding us too that it is the natural way of things for a father, however hard, to let his son go to make his own way in life.
Isn’t she wonderful
Isn’t she lovely (Stevie Wonder): And Stevie’s paean to his daughter Aisha.
Isn’t she precious, less than one minute old is Stevie’s glorious capture of the moment you discover you’ve been blessed with a girl.
Which is, of course, what you’re robbing yourself of going down the Big Reveal route.
The Living Years
The Living Years (Mike & the Mechanics): And I wasn’t there the morning my father passed away either.
An anthem to missed moments and reflections on regrets.
But with the lift of the orator telling us that his father passes on his spirit to his own baby.
And that is a fact.
My Old Man
The Old Man (Phil Coulter): Now few people do pluck-at-your-heartstrings nostalgia as well as the Irish.
And Phil Coulter puts this song ahead of My Boy which he wrote for Elvis, Ireland’s Call or The Town I Loved So Well about Derry.
Now, I can’t say he showed me the colours of the pheasant as he rises in the dawn (not much cause for that in Glasgow).
Or how to fish and make a wish beside the Fairy Tree (or that either in Scotland).
But there were scores of others between us.
And I never will forget him/
For he made me ‘what I am’/
Though he may be gone/
Memories linger on/
And I miss him, the old man/
So here’s to us, the fathers
Now, of course, there are a plethora of songs about deadbeat or dads in denial.
Papa Was A Rolling Stone, Cat’s in the Cradle, Papa Don’t Preach or maudling music (Don’t Cry Daddy) (Daddy’s Eyes).
But we’re dwelling on the joys of being a father today (and every day).
And who knows, I might even channel my own James Brown Dancing Dad later because Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag.
