My song today is ‘You and Me Against the World’. This song was written by Kenny Ascher and Paul Williams. It was recorded by Helen Reddy in her 1974 album ‘Love Song for Jeffrey’.
The co-writers of the song saw their work as being a traditional love ballad, but Helen Reddy considered the song's lyrics as being too "paternalistic" to be convincing as a woman's declaration of love for a man. Instead, she interpreted the song as a mother singing to a child, which her version clarifies by its ending. The record reached Number 9 on the ‘Billboard Hot 100’ in September 1974 and became the fourth of Reddy's six consecutive Adult Contemporary Number Ones. The song did equally well in Canada.
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The very first bond any person has is with their mother at birth and during their formative years. Being the first bond formed by the child usually makes it a special bond to all others that will be developed in one’s. With the sole exception of one’s marriage partner and soul mate, it is arguably the strongest of all bonds forged within one’s lifetime. Indeed, the bulk of most comedian’s jokes over the past hundred years has been built around the ‘mother-in-law’ image of being a marriage interferer and perpetual interloper into family affairs beyond her remit. Indeed, in many societies, the grandma figure is the most influential in the family network, naturally making mothers-in-law powerful also.
I know that as the oldest of seven children, probably the most important and influential relationship in my life was the one with my mother. It was as special and while the value range and traits I have today come from both parents, my predominant traits come from my mother.
Whereas dad was a practical, down-to-earth man, his roles as father, husband, and family provider for seven children ensured that he remained the most industrious of men. He was somewhat traditional in his belief that ‘hard work’ was the bedrock of manhood and individual character building. Dad would judge another person by how prepared they were to do whatever was required to get by. While being the proudest man I ever knew as well as being the most modest, he believed that no kind of work, however hard or lowly was beneath the dignity of any other man, woman, or child to perform. He also believed that whatever work one did in life, it was one's duty to do it as well as one possibly could, even if one’s job was sweeping floors. To do otherwise, my father believed was letting one’s self down as well as one’s employer. Being a person who was brought up in poverty, my father left school and all formal education before he had long been a teenager and entered the manual workforce to financially assist his family. Dad always valued hard work over that of education, and he rated lessons learned from 'the school of life’ before any other form of academic education or scholarly book learning.
My mother on the other hand was the opposite kind of person. Indeed, it frankly amazes me how the two of them ever got together as a couple, but they must have had something like ‘love’ going for them as they were together from marriage to death and parented seven children in the process of their lifelong marriage. Mum was a black-haired woman of attractive features. Her body was essentially an emotional vessel that contained too much love for her own good. Some would call her a soft touch as she would be known to empty her purse and give her last shilling to the first beggar to come her way with an outstretched hand, asking for money to buy a cup of tea when it was a bottle of stout that he was really seeking the funding for. Mum was compassionate, loving, understanding, and forgiving to a fault. Whereas most people only accord respect to another who truly deserves it, mum would bestow it on everyone she ever met, long before they ever earned it.
Mum gave voice to her emotions at the moment of their birth and she would rarely sit on her thoughts of any perceived injustice that she encountered to herself or another, be they family or stranger. Mum loved life down to her last breath. She could get lost in her life all day long and never want to be found again. It mattered not what household chore she did throughout her long day, she could always be found, smiling, singing, and smoking a cigarette in the process. In fact, she was probably the only person I ever knew who could smile, sing and smoke simultaneously!
Mum’s greatest regret was that my father never took her dancing. His feet were good enough to grace the soccer team of County Waterford and then the Irish National squad, but when it came to dance around the ballroom floor, mum said that he had two left feet. Mum was a woman who day-dreamed, sang, danced, and romanced in her head all day long as she performed her motherly duties about the home. Her day’s work was never done until late at night, and her only time when she would wind down was when she was telling me some Irish folk tale with the sincerity that it was every bit as true as the Gospel that the priest read out every Sunday at Mass.
Whereas my father was as solid as the ground he stood on, mum was the born adventurer and risk-taker. She always acted on her belief that a bird in the hand was worth more than two in the bush. She was never prepared to wait to buy something for tomorrow if she could borrow the money for it today. To mum, life was far too short for hanging around waiting for something to happen, so whenever life got too quiet for her, she made something happen! It was as though she knew she would be dead by her early sixties, so she was determined to get every bit of fun out of life that she could beforehand.
Until my mid-teens, I was light-fingered and would steal anything I could get my hands on. Most of my thefts remained undetected and could not be proven, but the local Bobby (policeman) knew me to be responsible for more than he ever caught me for. As for my early life of stealing, I always exercised a ‘Robin Hood’ conscience and value range. I never stole off poor folk, only shop keepers and the flowers from rich folk’s gardens. When I stole a bun or a few apples from a shop, I would always share my ill-gotten gains with a mate. I might even give a stolen plant or bunch of flowers from a garden to a kindly neighbour who had never experienced the gesture of holding a bunch of flowers in her hands as a gift from her husband.
The local policeman lived on the estate also and forever had his ear to the ground. He often knew what someone intended to do before they did, simply by listening to any loose talk around the estate. He was a regular visitor to our house. Knowing that I was always up to some trouble, if my dad opened the door to the inquiring policeman before the constable had told dad what I was supposed to have done, my father would say, “Take him away, Officer, and lock him up for the night. That will teach him to respect the property and belongings of other people!”
Whereas my mum’s response would be entirely the opposite if she opened the door. As soon as mum opened the door to a policeman asking, “Is your son, Billy, in Mrs. Forde?” mum would automatically reply, “Yes! He is, and he’s been here helping me all evening. Not once has he left my sight, so whatever you think he’s done, he hasn’t, and I’ll vouch for him if needs be!”
Mum always provided me with any alibi I ever needed, and it was her loyalty in this regard that lead me to believe that together, she and I against the world would beat it hands down every time. My wife Sheila also invokes the same feeling within me.
Love and peace
Bill xxx