Margaret Keenan and the Pipes of Peace.

Margaret Keenan and the Pipes of Peace.

It only seems like yesterday since Margaret Keenan became the first person to receive the very first coronavirus vaccine. Remember, Britain and the rest of the world of course was still paralysed by Covid 19, a virus that would prove to be so deadly on a global scale that even now, exactly 12 months later, the world is still suffering, still poleaxed, still questioning and still coming to terms with that indefinable sense of loss, grief and bemusement. 

And now if all the rumours are to be believed Boris Johnson and his gang of alleged law breakers may well find themselves held to account, accused of crimes and indiscretions they may never be forgiven for. Now what we have here is perhaps one of the most deplorable political transgressions ever to have been committed. We are not quite in Profumo territory or the government's disgraceful U- turn on tax hikes but the reality is that at this time last year Boris Johnson and his Cabinet colleagues were whooping it up inside 10 Downing Street with the loudest and wildest of parties. 

You probably know by now that Boris, had he an ounce of conscience and compassion, should never have been anywhere near a glass of alcohol or a party hat. But the fact is that, in all likelihood, his Tory colleagues probably were. But now Boris's chickens have come home to roost and the egg on collective Tory faces may be messier to clear up than was first thought. The truth is that if the proof and evidence sticks, this could turn out to be the most traumatic period of Johnston's Prime Ministerial tenure. 

But hold on everybody it is almost Christmas time and now may be the opportunity to look around us and forget about political duplicity and shenanigans. It's time to be nostalgic, reflective and look forward rather than backwards. And yet you can't help but dwell on the legacies that past Christmases have given us. There was the Christmas music, the music that defined the festive period, those cheesy, kitsch pop records from days gone by and years ago when Christmas seemed to run like clockwork without controversy and full of good, old fashioned fun. 

On the TV, well known celebrities would unashamedly dress up as Santa Claus and kindly deliver Christmas presents to sick children in hospital. Then, at roughly tea time on Christmas Day, the circus would appear on our screens, a festive extravaganza that would leave all the kids and families spellbound. What we didn't know then was that the lions and elephants parading around the ring would become both politically incorrect, totally unacceptable and no longer relevant to a modern day audience. 

Then those two mighty bastions of comedy Morecambe and Wise along with The Two Ronnies would entertain millions of viewers with some of the greatest and most unforgettable wisecracks, jokes, sketches and all manner of riotous hilarity. This, according to most in the know, represented the golden age of British TV, a moment in time when we could just ignore industrial unrest, miners strikes and general misery with several helpings of laughter and unrelenting humour. 

Meanwhile in the pop charts of the late 1970s and perhaps early 80, the pop singers and bands of the age would delight us with that delicious brand of Christmas ditties that held most of us entranced. A vast majority of those vinyl gems still echo and resonate through the ages. We can hardly help but abandon ourselves to joyful finger clicking, infectious humming and, for those who remember the lyrics, just singing the tunes in the privacy of our shower, stirring renditions of songs that kept drumming away in your head. 

There was Jona Lewie's Stop the Cavalry, an anti war Christmas song with touching, heartfelt lyrics about men fighting in the trenches and longing to be with their wives and girlfriends. It is about separation and love, one soldier pouring out his heart about the futility of war and  who fears that he too could die without ever knowing whether he'd ever be able to dance with his loved one ever again, reunited with his wife and family. So Lewie stands in front of his well decorated fireplace counting down the days until the war is over. 

Then there was the equally as magical and timeless Christmas classic Driving Home for Christmas a song so beautiful and appropriately festive that you could almost be in the same car as Chris Rea. Here the Middlesbrough born singer songwriter captures the whole flavour of what Christmas is all about. Against a very scenic backdrop of snow caked motorways, Rea's Christmas offering, released in 1986, takes us on a journey back home to where ever his family and offspring are eagerly waiting for him.

Throughout the drive home, we are subjected to a heartwarming and tender sequence of one car on a road and a windscreen gently wiping the snow away with the windscreen wipers. Then Rea cruises along roads, through forests and then white wonderlands. Finally Rea pulls into what can only be described as a depot or warehouse while behind him lorries wink their headlights. It's uplifting and just re-assuring. 

Then there is Paul McCartney. Now here is a man who's got Christmas all wrapped up and knows all about its spiritual and, for some religious resonance. McCartney, of course, once belonged to one of the most famous and lyrically flawless pop bands of all time. When the Beatles were being chased and screamed over hysterically by over excited girls during the 1960s none of us could have predicted that roughly 20 years or so later, McCartney would be responsible for yet another song of both meaning and profundity, a song that to this day, still sounds as if it could have made, somewhat ironically. yesterday.

The Pipes of Peace is a remarkable piece of music, a composition with so many warm messages and overtones that you can't help but think that perhaps the human race should indeed sit up and take notice of its earthy authenticity, words that should reach out to us and poke us in the ribs quite sternly. Pipes of Peace, rather like Stop the Cavalry, is the ultimate protest song that finds war utterly repellent. 

Dressed in army uniform and running across blood stained battlefields during the First World War, McCartney perfectly illustrates the struggle, ugliness and pain of war. Then on discovering that the Germans are heading towards him and ready for both a truce and rapprochement, the former Beatle stops in the middle of a muddy quagmire quite suddenly. Here he meets his German adversary and hands over a note that presumably contains a request for an impromptu football match.

So it is that McCartney smiles at his German opponent and pleads for an armistice, a stop to the fighting, the bloodshed, the grisly grotesqueness of graphic murder and violence. Then both the Beatles guitarist, who once co wrote some of the finest lyrics ever written in any genre of music with John Lennon now puts his differences and hostilities to one side before embarking on one of the most compelling friendly football matches ever seen in the historical context of any age.  

Dropping a heavy medicine ball of a football between them, the two military antagonists scrap and tussle for the ball and then playfully dig the ball out of the thick, cloying mud. They now playfully kick the ball about quite joyously, tackling like kids in the playground and passing to nobody in particular. All around bombs are exploding and soldiers running for their lives. This is the feelgood story that just makes you want to cry with happiness. 

Meanwhile when it's all over McCartney rushes back to the safety of the trenches where he willingly accepts a drop of the hard stuff and then produces a photo of his girlfriend back at home who he adores. There is a love letter in his pocket and he crouches down, closing his eyes with tenderness in his heart, smiling again and praying for sense to prevail so that he can once again be back in the arms of the girl he loves. 

The Pipes of Peace is the most wonderfully comforting Christmas song, an outstanding example of music at its most therapeutic, music to soften the hardest heart and one that still soothes a fevered brow.  You're still convinced  that nothing can be achieved by blowing each other up and that killing each other can never be the answer to any argument. So Pipes of Peace hits you right there and is therefore a deserved Number One in your favourite Christmas chart. Let the debates continue.