The Seven Year Tich.
Why is part of my
brain taken up with how Tich of Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich spells his
name, when it could be reserved for something useful?
You may wonder
why this is on my mind, with good reason. Yesterday, I wrote a joke about
the obscure band in a friend’s Christmas card – my references are
niche – and as I did, I thought to myself, “I’m sure he doesn’t put a second T in it.”
I faltered before
committing the moniker (not Monica) to paper so I could do a quick Google and,
lo and behold, I was right; I know my Sixties Wiltshire-based trivia.
The strange thing
is that while I’m hugely into music from the era and known to go on about it
(to the irritation of everyone around me), the work of DDDBMT largely passed me
by. I know little-to-nothing about them, save the formation of their excessively
lettered name. I can’t help but feel that this usually useless piece of
information was gleaned and stored away at the expense of something else.
I even
have an inkling of what might be lost. I was watching
Home Alone last night (after TichGate) - and as Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern shimmied along a rope out of Culkin's upstairs window in the hope of capturing him in his
treehouse, I turned to my wife and said, “Surely they'd know that could only make them very…”
It took ten minutes to establish the word I was hunting for was ‘vulnerable’. I
need to adjust my verbal priorities.