WordSmith: A trio of Saturday nights

I was home alone bored senseless; the mindless drivel on TV couldn’t distract me from the achingly slow plod of Saturday evening. Such was my inertia I couldn’t even move into another room for a change of scenery. I lay on the couch and stared at the ceiling looking for stimulation in the plaster canvas above me. The ceiling dimmed a little as the sun began its set; I got up to plug in the lamp, something to do. That’s when I was hit by an enormous electric shock that shook me to the core!

An electric guitar-riff rocked from the TV and ricocheted round the living room forcing me to my knees in melodic appreciation.

Then, two gorgeous women bounced from the TV, grabbed my boredom by its scruff, tearing it from me as they sang, “My, my, at Waterloo, Napoleon did surrender…”

It was my first Eurovision Song Contest and ABBA set the bar so high that for me, no other winner has matched the wonder of Waterloo on the Eurovision stage.

Another Saturday night and I’m bored senseless, again. This time I’m with Mam and Dad in a pub called Eddie O’Gorman’s on Cavan’s main street. An occasional sip of Cavan Cola adds a fleeting sweetness to my boredom, but it doesn’t quench it. Then somewhere through the high-spirits of the adults I pick up words that interest me, “The final of the Cavan Song Contest is on tonight.” This was news to me and I nudged Mam, “Is there a Cavan Song Contest, like The Eurovision one?” Mam nodded over, “I don’t know, go and ask yer-woman.”

And so on a Saturday night in late February I found myself walking down main street towards The Cavan INTERNATIONAL Song Contest, no less.

The Sports Centre was a multi-event-venue situated up an alleyway at the lower end of town. The venue was familiar to me as a bingo-hall, in which I’d once won the jackpot. That night as I watched all the glamour of the arriving audience and delegates, the hall was far removed from bingo; more so when I heard foreign languages mingling amongst the Cavan brogues – the mix of multilingualism was beyond exciting for the young me.

But alas, as the last of the audience began to arrive and take their places inside the venue, they took the warmth of their excitement with them.

Alone, and without the frisson of arriving attendees, I felt distinctly like CinderFella – under-dressed and without a ticket to the ball.

I pulled up my hood and headed for home, then the orchestra struck up. I followed the music to the part of the building close to the stage and listened.

Although muffled I could hear the compere, and best of all, the songs. It was chilly, yet the only sensation I felt was the warmth that comes from song – it was a joyous night.

Back to a recent Saturday night; and I’m not bored, now. As we get older we’ve no time for boredom; because it’s replaced by busy. Oh to enjoy the bliss of childhood boredom, again.

Anyway, This night I was busy scrolling with song contests front of mind. I wanted to find archival footage of the Cavan Song Contest, but instead I discovered a contemporary Cavan Song Contest ‘The Win Big Song Contest.’ This is currently a biennial event hosted by Cavan Institute. It’s open to secondary school students across country, and the chairperson of the judging panel is esteemed Eurovision winner, Charlie McGettigan. This year’s contest was won by Sean McDonnell from St Finian’s College, Mullingar, with his song ‘Foinse’ and Lauren Nulty from Breifne College, Cavan, took second place.

Part of the prize includes having the song professionally produced in the Institute’s audio department. It’s a fantastic platform to foster young song-writing talent and it would be brilliant to have this Song Contest become an annual event, here in the Breffni County.

This year, Ireland is not taking part in the Eurovision Song Contest. So, I’d like to bring back The Cavan International Song Contest, in writing. Over Christmas I spoke with one of the founding members of the event, and with her permission and input it would be great to bring back all the glitz and glamour of a competition that lit up Cavan and put it on the international song-writing map. I want to evoke all the warmth I felt on a cold Cavan night in February.

This column is like the teaser/trailer to an upcoming portal to our musical past, and I’ll give it all I’ve got. I shall approach its writing like a song, one I hope will be awarded, “Cavan, Douze Pointe!”