After You’ve Gone - Music by Turner Layton and vocals by Marion Harris. Victor Records, 1918
trying on a metaphor

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DEAR READER
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@jimmacs-a
After You’ve Gone - Music by Turner Layton and vocals by Marion Harris. Victor Records, 1918
Mr. McCartney Paul got caned at school today, are you going to go and hit the bastard that did it?
Jim needn’t a moment to wait for the answer. A slow breath in and a turn of his head to the next column in the newspaper. ❛ If he got caned, then he probably did something wrong. ❜ He eyed the bowl across from the young lad, folded the paper to push the container of this morning’s custard towards him. ❛ Are you keeping yourself from trouble, George? ❜
@fangsharrison
"Hi mista Jimmyyyyyyy!!!!"
A soft smile tugged upwards at Mister McCartney’s lips as he set down his daily read between his arm and his side. It was always lovely seeing Camille visit when she had the time; he found that he could chat with her about his music tastes much more easily than he could with his sons. Jazz and old love tunes were stowed away for her to listen to at her convenience, as long as any one person was in the house to let her in. ❛ Afternoon, Camille. You’ve come to stay a while? ❜ Slowly, he rises from his seat to have the door open for her. ❛ Tea’s just ready inside. ❜
@camillelafaye
Jim McCartney on the right, Uncle Albert on the left, and Uncle Albert’s father in the middle.
And now I’m earwormed again.
In the end Jim restricted himself to making them food. He’d had to take up cooking, after a fashion, when his wife died. He found to his delight that although his own two, Paul and Michael, were very choosy about their food and were poor eaters - and when Paul was busy, he wouldn’t eat at all - John and George turned out to be gluttons who would eat anything at any time. ‘I used to work off all the stuff on to them that Paul and Michael had left. In the end, I didn’t have to disguise it but just say there was some leftovers here, would they like it. To this day I always have to make George some custard when he comes. He says my custard’s the best in the world.
- The Beatles, Hunter Davies (via thegilly)