Christmas Days, past and present
IS it my age or am I just longing for Christmas Days of yore? Despite the multi-channel and terrestrial television choice we have in this century, I have no doubt I will find little to amuse me on the box over the festive season, writes Tom Gillespie.
The film choice, as per usual, is the same across all the channels, the only difference being the time or day they are screened.
No doubt Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory will be repeated ad nauseam on the telly.
The 1971 American musical fantasy family film, directed by Merl Stuart and starring Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka, is an adaptation of the 1964 novel Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, by Roald Dahl. But seeing it once is more than enough for me.
Again, showing may age, in the early days of RTÉ television the Christmas shows, though in black and white, had more of an impact and were centred around the top showband stars of the day.
Pictured here is an archive photograph of actor Jim Bartley - Bela of Fair City - as Willy Wolfe, with members of the Dixies Showband, in a scene from the RTÉ television Christmas pantomime The True Story of Red Riding Hood during filming in Studio One in 1968.
In 1968, the band had its biggest hit with ‘Little Arrows’, which reached number one on September 7 and stayed in the charts for 20 weeks.
Like their major rivals The Royal Showband, the Dixies were looking further afield for success and in 1969 they made the trek to Las Vegas where they became one of the only other showbands - along with the Royal - to be accepted by the casino capital's promoters.
In late 1968 the Dixies released 'Katie's Kisses', written by Howard and Hazelwood, and had their pantomime on RTÉ on Christmas Day.
The Dixies included Joe Mac McCarthy (drums), Sean Lucey (clarinet), Theo Cahill (trombone), Brendan O’Brien (vocals) and Steve Lynch (guitar).
The outfit was one of the most successful and musically talented of the showband era, equalled only by The Royal and Capital showbands.
When I was a child, Christmas Day, in pre-television days, in our household in Marian Row in Castlebar was always a festive occasion. Back then my late father, Dick, would visit my uncle, Denny Fahey, in Newantrim Street and they, along with other regulars, got into one of the local pubs for a few pints.
It was always a civilised affair back then. The ‘visitors’ had a two-hour sojourn from 12 to 2 p.m., with ‘last drinks’ called at 1.30 p.m.
But that did not always ensure that they would be back in Marian Row by 2.30 p.m. in time for the Christmas dinner.
Year-after-year there was no straight road home. Sure they had to go visiting the homes of some of their fellow drinkers before finally docking in an hour later at 3.30 p.m.
But my mother, Patsy, was well used to the Christmas Day visiting routine and timed the dinner to be served at 4 p.m.
Denny Fahey, her brother, and a talented blacksmith by trade, had a beautiful voice and always encouraged us to sing along with him.
Starters back then was delicious soup made from the giblets of the turkey. This was a time before smoked salmon or other exotic starters became popular.
The main course - turkey and stuffing - was accompanied by roast potatoes, Brussel sprouts, carrots and mashed potatoes.
This was the only occasion in the year that wine graced the dinner table. A bottle of red and white, probably Blue Nun, were opened and us children were allowed to taste the fruit of the vine.
The dessert was home-made plum pudding and cream and, if we were lucky, ice cream.
When the dinner was completed, the dishes taken away and the sitting room tidied up - it was only on Christmas Day that we dined in there - and we would walk out to Creagh Villa, past the high walls surrounding St. Mary’s Hospital, to my father’s ancestral home, on the Westport Road (now the highly successful Lough Lannagh Village). There we were entertained by my uncles Tommy, Alfie and Bernie, and, of course, another round of presents.
Stories were told, all usually made up, songs sung and in 1964 Bernie had purchased a tape recorder, a large spool-to-spool machine on which he recorded the performances. I remember hearing them many years later. I wonder where the recordings are now?
My uncle Alfie was an operatic aficionado and would play ‘Take a Pair of Sparkling Eyes’ from Gilbert and Sullivan’s Gondoliers on his gramophone while singling along with the singers.
I was often given the task of winding up the gramophone in preparation for the performance.
On one occasion, another uncle, Seamus Bourke, an employee of Castlebar Bacon Factory, convinced me the red wine he was drinking was in fact bull's blood.
The proceedings in Creagh Villa usually lasted well into the the early hours of St. Stephen’s Day morning and as a result I have little or no memory of going out on the wren on December 26, as a lot of sleep had to be caught up on. Likewise, those on the wren had little joy when they called to our house as we were all in a comatose state from our Creagh Villa Christmas antics.
But getting back to the telly, I will be recording any westerns that are shown this year, knowing quite well that I will have seen them all before. But there is nothing like nostalgia.