The Only Way Is Dave
Growing up in the 70's was never going to be easy for a child with an overt dislike for 'oranges' and 'yellos' and sometimes 'reds'. To our adolescent protagonist Spacehoppers were evil Lucifer-like creatures. Demonic obese bags of fetid 70's air...lurking in the corner of a friend's bedroom. Orange pigs. Raleigh Choppers....mostly yello in colour... were there to remind him that his friends had rich parents....and that he would have to make do with a cheap Italian Chopper-copy....from the catalogue...for Christmas.
£35 from Harrods
His was a simple family. His father had a wooden hand. His mother compiled crosswords for The Socialist Worker....and Disco 45.
The air in his home was ever-heavy with the haze of Woodbine and the vapour of Blue Nun. It would be easy to crack a joke at this point...about how the woodbine smog was even worse when his father smoked it too....implying that his mother was the smoker....but that would be cheap and predictable...and quite untrue. Sorry...I'm just being honest. Aligned to that...I could say 'he was poor...but he was happy'. That wouldn't be true. He was a miserable scrote. He had an imaginary friend...didn't we all? His imaginary friend....called David....refused to play with him...tellingly.
David would often say
'I'm going to be the Prime Minister of England'
The Raleigh Chopper was mainly yello
Andrew...our protagonist...had two cats....one real...one imaginary. He called the imaginary cat Mussolini. Not because of significant markings in the same way that dumb people call their cat Hitler if it has a small black tache. He called it Mussolini cos it liked to hang upside down from the local Elf garage. That's true...that is.
He forgot to give his real cat a name
Mussolini was a terrible fascist.
The real Mussolini....I mean.
Not the cat.
That would be silly.
Anyway....don't let me keep you. The whole saga was made into a documentary. Here's what happened when the boy who detested bright colours finally grew up.
Before I go….here…take these:
W W W
Please put these on the ends of my yello words. I can spell yellow. I was teasing you…and it worked…didn’t it?
The presenter and her friend
she's the one with the bunny-ears
Identity Infiltration Syndrome
Uninvited Other-Person Acceptance Disorder
Irregular Character-Ingest Sicknesss
Call it what you will...but these are all strains of the same monster...of the same condition from which we can all fall prey to at any time in our lives. It's the kind of phenom you read about every so often in the media-sheets of the world. It makes you think.
A lorry-driver...called Colin...from Hebden Bridge...is knocked unconscious by a low-flying bird...probably a raven...and when he comes round he can sing like Pavarotti in his prime. (more likely it was a rook...to be fair)
An accounts manager...called Trish....from Broadstairs...is startled by a vagrant moth...and she can suddenly speak in Latin tongue...fluently. Probably. (she might even turn lesbianos)
A cat in Bavaria loses it's eighth life...and comes back barking like a dog.
Nobody can really explain this abnormality of circumstance...but we are going to try to shed some light on this marvel of the human mind. Without further travail...I hereby present to you...the curious case of an erratic character with new-fangled misappropriation of the secluded thought-system.
Ladies and Gents....first and second-right down the corridor.
Let me introduce you to what were the first rumblings...of...The Only Way Is Dave
The Psycho-Analyst (Josh Rink)
The Psycho-Analyst Interview
(interview...in pub...colloquial setting to promote warmth and well-being)
(Josh Rink-psycho-analyst. Andy Export- ideological cerebral patient)
JR- Hi Andy...let's begin...are you comfortable?
AE- Well...I have a few grand in the bank
JR- I didn't mean..........
JR- We're here today to get to the radical rock-bottom of this new mental complication...to get to the anus of the predicament...plainly speaking. Can you remember much about your childhood?
AE- No...can you?
JS- Not really...I didn't even KNOW you
AE- I didn't mean.....
JS- I know
AE- Carry on
JS- You had an operation....you had a tumour removed from your head...was it like having a part of your mind removed?
AE- Not really...I had that done years ago
AE- Because I have been trying to forget about a girl I loved. I lacked the skill to attract her...so I decided to have that mental desire removed from my mind
JS- The classic 'can't get a girl out of your mind' syndrome....but it's like Maria said...in The Sound of Music...'you can't run away from your problems...you have to face them head-on' You should ask her out.
JS- No...the girl of your dreams.
AE- She didn't love me...and I always believe that I would never want to be with someone who doesn't love me as much as I love them
JS- Admirable sentiment
AE- Thank you
JS- You had a tumour removed....what then?
AE- I woke up with a compulsion
JS- To sing another man's music?
JS- Why David Essex?
AE- I have no idea
Josh Rink (continued)
JS- Tell me about your time on the operating-table
AE- Well....it wasn't the first time I had been concerned with 'operational-delusion'
AE- Well...you're the expert...aren't you supposed to tell me?
JS- Yeah...but you're writing the fucking script
AE- Oh yeah...sorry...well...my friend had just had an appendectomy...and I figured that taking part of your body away is bound to mess you up in some way...so it weighed heavy on my mind...literally...and I thought of my friend as I had my own segment ripped from my biological strata...and I wrote a song for her...as i underwent my own procedure
JS- What was her name?
JS- What was the song?
(Josh Rink...more of)
JS- That's nice
AE- Thank you
JS- Can you remember much about your childhood?
AE- We've already done that bit
JS- Oh yeah....so did you get the girl?
AE- No....another of my rationalistic attitudes is that it's not who you choose...it's who chooses you....and I figure that if she doesn't choose me then my own choice becomes invalid...in the philosophy of incorrigible metaphysics
JS- You do understand that I'm the acknowledged professional expert here, don't you?
AE- Yeah...but I'm writing the script
JS- Oh yeah
AE- Carry on
JS- So you gave up on the girl?
AE- Well I wouldn't say I 'gave up'. I'd say I respected her wishes to remain unspecified within the kingdoms of my own life
JS- You gave up?
AE- No....I walked on the ground she worshipped
JS- So you turned to David Essex? I like to call it 'david essex affectation desire'...or 'dead' When did you first notice this odd affliction?
AE- Firstly...I don't see it as an affliction. I'm not impersonating him...and I'm not using his songs for my own gain. I had never heard of him before I had my operation....but...suddenly...I was aware of his songs. I played an Unlucky Fried Kitten show...and...suddenly...half way through our acoustic version of Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms...I broke into some song called Stardust.
JS- So you ditched a three-movement choral symphony for a soppy self-aggrandising sympathy seeking 70's pop song?
AE- Don't diss Dave m8
JS- Wow...how did you manage to speak in text-slang like that in an audible-only latitude?
AE- I'm writing the script
JS- Tell me how you went on to even RECORD Stardust?
AE- I was at an open mic night in Wembley...or Highbury...somewhere up there...and they didn't call it open mic night...or jam night...as we do down here...they called it 'bohemian expression unplanned warranty evening'...something like that. I had popped into McDonalds on the way up....long journey and all that....which produced a strange moment:
Mcdonalds girl: Sorry about the wait
Me: It's okay...it's not that heavy
McDonalds girl: No...I meant.....
Me; Yeah...I know
So I hit this open mic night and there was a guy there...from a band called Clinker.
JS- Never heard of them
AE- They don't support Westlife
JS- I am sure I'll not be checking their music out
AE- I am sure they will be pleased
JS- So you done a song with them?
Pop Music '70's Poll
Who was your favourite pop star
NOTE FROM ANDY (AUTHOR)
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