Monday, November 10, 2008

Nads: Angelic Sweetheart, Rolf Harris, Maggie Thatch

Nadine Dorries has blogged once more ... though sadly still not brought herself to explain how her eldest daughter Philippa Storm Dorries has landed a top Westminster job that was in fact in mum's gift.

Instead we have more rose-tinted childhood memories. Of the Rolf Harris hit, penned in fact in 1902 and popularised by Harry Lauder, Two Little Boys (sorry this is not a permalink) ringing through her ears as she - ragged Sally Army dressed tom boy - played with an angelic faced real boy, like Pinocchio once he'd learned to tell the truth and shame the devil.

This by way of an insight into her feelings on remembrance day. Where she confesses to have sadly screwed up an otherwise exemplary parade. There's honest for you.

Anyways. Near t'benighted council estate where Dorries "was born" and "grew up" - a process which cannot yet be considered complete - there was an enchanted forest in which a mighty bomb crater echoed with tom boy/real boy larks and laughter.

Clearly for the song reference to make sense the pair would have had to have found themselves on opposite sides of the fray, only for a rescue-reunion to ensue.

The song was of course on the chart for the best part of six months, hitting number one after about four weeks on 20 December 1969 and staying there for six weeks. Nads would have been 11.5. So who was the angelic little boy fooling around with Nads in the woods?

Perhaps it was her childhood sweetheart and first husband? Sadly written out of her "citation required" life story completely. What percentage of that cock-and-bull do we think is actually true? Believe me, very little of it actually checks out. And any and all reminiscences of the Dorries need a stern health warning. Mostly cobblers.

STARTLING TRIVIA: According to the song's wiki Two Little Boys was the Baroness Thatcher's favourite song of all time. Her desert island disc. My partner's family have a tradition in which a "desert island disc" is a recording that needs to be sent - on its own and forever - to a desert island. And this one most likely fits that category.

Instead Saint Rolf has apparently re-recorded the damned thing. This "hilarious" telegraph sketch has disappeared so this is a cache copy. And here's Sinead O'Connor singing the song, just as me Auntie Eiblin Herron used to entertain us wains with. Before that Rolf marmelised it.

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