my bloghead 11- the man wi' nae' legs

The above picture is my father and myself making an attempt to busk in a local community hall trying to get the message of cancer support to the people through music we had written together. He was diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer at the age of 81 and since has made a remarkable recovery. I had not been diagnosed at the time.

How did we get there?

Picture this. It's Christmas Day. Your father, lying on a hospital bed in the living room tired and frail from the ravishes of cancer. A tray full of pills and ointments and a degrading commode with a screen for privacy at the other side of the room and a walking frame designed to lift you to whatever short destination is required within that room. Carers were dropping in three times a day to help with bathing and other sensitive duties. While my father was literally rooted to the confines of his bed in a living room. You see, the cancer had reached his spine and he had lost the basic power and mobility of his legs. A devastating blow to a once very active man.

During all this time, a weary but ever enthusiastic mum puts on an admirable front to keep the spirits up.

I walked up to the bed, looked into his worn face and said "merry Christmas old yin." while he grabbed my hand with a strong workman like grip and said "You know Edward, I feel like a man with no legs."

Eureka. A flash of inspiration appeared in my head and a possible opportunity that may help my father from sinking further into the cancer abyss. Music!!

After a wee moments thought, I said "lets write a song about your cancer journey and we will call it the man wi name legs." (see lyrics below).

I was once a songwriter but foolishly gave it up (a story for another blog). Anyway. Here was a time where I could put that songwriting talent to good use and provide my father with a new ray of hope.

My father has always loved music and I knew that well. From Glen Miller to Bob Dylan, a real connoisseur of music. He once played accordians, pianos and mouthorgans in his younger years but gave it all up. In that brief but significant moment, I could instantly see his face light up with the thought of doing such a task. He could see a purpose again through music and as we all know, purpose is the life source for all human beings.

After chatting briefly over a wee toddy or two, we decided to meet up regularly and go over the ideas. I would bring the guitar and the family rallied round to buy him a new mouthorgan. Over the next few weeks I pieced together some of my fathers thoughts and wrote some lyrics inspired by this. I had this melody in my head I thought would fit and there we were sitting for hours on end going over the lyrics and melody until eventually we finished the piece. I kid you not. The impact this had on my father was phenomenal. My mother says he would blow that mouthorgan day and night sometimes driving her nuts but she knew that it was making a difference to him so that was all that mattered.

One day, we decided to record the song in the living room. My father has never recorded anything in his life and the thought of doing something his musical heroes like Dylan really appealed. "Me, a recording star? Your kidding?" He said flippantly.

I set up the microphones and recorded the mouthorgan and guitar parts. Then the vocal and we decided to ask the carers if they wanted to be back up singers. Of which they reluctantly but playfully agreed. It was an instant living room hit, ha ha. When I mastered the final cut, family and friends came round for a 'premier' and loved it.

So, we were encouraged to use the song to raise awareness of cancer and the hospice my father was attending. Then some bright spark came up with the idea of writing more songs and going out busking. The thought of doing a live performance to the public filled my dad with dread. I had a lot of experience in live performance and told him "Look, what have we got to lose? Who cares what they think or say, its our moment and if we raise some awareness and funds, great." We practiced for a few weeks and decided our first serious busking gig would be outside the doors of the local Marks & Spencers. There we were, dad in his wheelchair, myself on a wooden box belting out our songs and the public throwing money into the buskers hat. What a day. It was the start of The Wee Stoaters Band.

The 'man wi nae legs' had arrived.

Since then, my father has come on leaps and bounds. He has retrieved some mobility now with the aid of sticks and a scooter. He has also taken up playing the ukulele. Since then, we have gone on to write more songs and hopefully in the near future, revive The Wee Stoaters and busk again.

Looking back on that wonderful moment at Christmas when he was very down and talked about losing the power of his legs was pivotal to changing his whole attitude to how he would tackle cancer. He met it head on. He had a purpose and music was that purpose without which I doubt he would not have survived.

The Man Wi' Nae' Legs (written by John & Eddy Gemmell 2014)

Chorus 1

I am the man wi name legs

I am the man wi name legs

tears in the morning and last thing at night

I am the man wi name legs

Remember December, a cold and dreach day

I tried to stand up but my legs they gave way

called for the doctor and here's what he said

I'm afraid your wee legs have seen their best days

Chorus 1

So its off to the Beatson and from the word go

I'll be leaving this place with something to show

prove to them all I'll move that big toe

now I am the man who can move that big toe

Chorus 2

I was the man wi name legs

I was the man wi name legs

tears in the morning but laughter at night

I was the man wi name legs

Nursey oh nursey you tidy and ruffle

while Agnes she cries shuffle man shuffle

a left then a right without any trouble

my its been hard but i've burst that bubble

Chorus 3

Now I am the man wi two legs

Now I am the man wi two legs

lags in the morning and laugh every night

Now I am the man wi two legs

So take a wee listen and then you may see

that life can surprise you just look at me

from two dead legs now standing and free

a day at a time is my recipe

Chorus 1