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You have to feel sorry for Tom, Dick and Harry. I know that most people don't have a social life to speak of these days, but Tom, Dick and Harry must be suffering more than most. It has been quite a while since anyone spotted them in a crowded place. I heard they were partying in Temple Bar during lockdown and attending an odd First Communion party during the summer but other than that, they seem to be staying in.
Tom, Dick and Harry have been on my mind ever since I heard that their French equivalents are Pierre, Paul and Jacques. I never knew the concept of Tom, Dick and Harry was an international one. If there's a crowd anywhere in France, Pierre, Paul and Jacques are inevitably in the middle of it.
Those three lads certainly sound more exotic than plain old Tom, Dick and Harry. You might turn up your nose at attending a gathering with every Tom, Dick and Harry but imagine hearing that Pierre, Paul et Jacques are going? Ooh la la, the event becomes infinitely more appealing.
And if their Italian equivalents Tizio, Caio and Sempronio arrive, then it really adds a Mediterranean allure to the occasion.
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It just goes to show that everything sounds more exotic and glamorous abroad. Even place names. Would Georgia on my Mind have the same mystique if Goresbridge was on Ray Charles's mind, instead of Georgia?
And isn't The Midnight Train to Georgia so much more romantic than the Midnight Train to Gorey? A cursory look at the Iarnród Éireann timetable suggests it is impossible to take a midnight train to Gorey anyway. The latest train to Gorey pulls out of Dublin at a most unromantic time of 18.35 most days. Curse Iarnród Éireann for refusing to timetable departures at midnight so that you could run down the platform one minute before midnight to catch your lover before they depart for Gorey forever.
Some place names just inspire songwriters. Look at the excitement generated by Elvis when he sang Viva Las Vegas. Now, Bundoran is a great place and it has the bright lights and slot machines like Las Vegas. And you could probably round up a thousand pretty women living the devil may care lifestyle that Elvis sings about. But would Viva Bundoran capture people's imagination like Viva Las Vegas does?
And then there's 24 Hours from Tulsa. No Irish songwriter could have written this song for several reasons. Firstly, Louth is lovely but I'm afraid that 24 Hours from Termonfeckin just doesn't have the same ring to it as 24 Hours from Tulsa. And secondly, the geography of our small but perfectly formed island would forbid the song's narrative from unfolding as it does. Gene Pitney was a 24-hour drive from Tulsa, and one day away from his true love's arms, when things took a turn for the worse.
He saw a welcoming light, pulled in to rest for the night and met the flirtatious female who was on duty at the motel. That could never happen in Ireland because it is physically impossible to be a 24-hour drive from any point on this island, unless you get trapped circling a roundabout for approximately 17 hours. So, he would never have needed a motel sleepover and he could now be happily married to the love of his life.
Even if he had become incredibly lost and needed to stop off on his drive to Termonfeckin, he would have remained faithful on his Irish road trip, thanks to our singular lack of all-night eating establishments. His woes began when he asked his motel mystery woman for a suggestion on where to eat at such a late hour. Thanks to America’s 24-hour eating culture, there was a café open, and she accompanied him. And what’s worse, it had a jukebox that actually worked. As the jukebox played, they danced and fell in love, as is obligatory when you dance to jukebox music.
Had he been travelling around Ireland in the middle of night, he would have been stuck with a sad-looking ham and cheese sandwich and a packet of crisps from a petrol station. Even if there had been a jukebox present, it wouldn’t have worked because 98.5 per cent of jukeboxes in Ireland are out of order at any given moment. And if there had been a winsome woman working the till, Covid restrictions would have prevented her from leaving her safe Perspex bubble.
He would have returned to his true love unchanged, apart from a spot of indigestion after eating crisps late at night. And 24 Hours from Termonfeckin would have been a much shorter song.