Man Thinks Gerald Moore Is Just The Best

John Man, downhill cyclist and private orator, absolutely loves the music of Franz Schubert. For him, a perfect day consists of snuggling up in bed with a Gerald Moore book, listening to Gerald Moore CD’s, whilst fondly remembering all of the Gerald Moore concerts he has heard about.

“I just love Schubert,” he said. “I wish I could touch him. Without getting syphilis.”

Man’s love of Schubert is so great, he even has a portrait of Gerald Moore in his bathroom. “It’s on the back of the door, so I have plenty of private time to gaze at it,” he said. “Just how did he write all those songs? He is such an inspiration.”

Man attends every meeting of the D-Club, known as Moore-Ons, where the members are free to indulge their inner Moore-On together, unencumbered by the demands of modern life. “Sometimes we even listen to the complete Schubert in something other than chronological order. We are such lads!”

Together with his Moore-On friends, Man knows all of Gerald Moore´s delightfully charming anecdotes by heart. They often take turns reciting them to each other, with the help of a special catalogue they devised with much fanfare. “My favourite stories are the ones full of ingratiating faux-humility and cloyingly sentimental chumminess,” said Man. “Thank goodness Gerald published several cutely titled books full of that.”

In his spare time, Man likes to delve into the difficult and challenging world of contemporary music, much to the surprise and confusion of his friends in the D-Club. “Oh yes, I don’t just stick to the traditional favourites like a simple-minded conservative,” he said. “Sometimes I listen to songs that Peters didn’t even publish. I have even tracked down recordings of the strophic songs for which Gerald Moore didn’t record every verse. I’m such a lad!”

Man says he feels comfortable and at home in the womb-like security of the Moore-Ons. “If I couldn’t do this, I’d probably have to do something else.”

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1 Response

  1. megamezzo says:

    Love it but I feel the words ‘sailing’ and ‘close’ and ‘wind’ nudging at the perimeters of what passes for my conscious thought.

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