In the other posts on this theme I mentioned that when looking back at my life, I was grateful for the support and love from family and friends, but that those who taught me a valuable lesson or who inspired me were often ordinary people, just doing their jobs, rather than the rich and famous. This post was recently shared on the wonderful blog of Hugh Roberts
Thank you Betty Lavington from Sally aged Seventeen
My two sisters who were ten and eleven years older than I was, both trained as secretaries, which led to them having some interesting and high level jobs over the years. However, I decided at an early age that I wanted to be a singer and actress! The desire to follow this career path was my mother’s fault really. Apart from the fact that she had a bit of a flair for the dramatic, she manipulated me into being her co-conspirator every Saturday afternoon.
My father loved football, and after he had cooked us one of his Spaghetti Bolognese lunches, followed by steamed treacle duff as he called them, we would retire to the lounge where our television took pride of place. I would have been about seven or eight at the time and my mother would coerce me into facilitating her viewing pleasure; the Saturday afternoon musical on BBC2.
Of course this conflicted with the afternoon football offering by Grandstand on BBC1. Fortunately my father had a weakness. Stoked up with carbohydrates and sugars from lunch, within 10 minutes of the match starting, he would be stretched out in his recliner, snoring.
In the good old days it was necessary to get up and down to switch channels, and this is where I came in. As soon as my father began snoring, my mother would nudge me, and I would creep across the carpet to turn the channel over to BBC2 and the Saturday musical. Things did get a little hectic at times if there was a temporary change to my father’s breathing. At a shove from my mother, I would leap up from the sofa, dash across the room and switch channels back to the football. My father would watch blearily for about five minutes then resume his afternoon nap.
This would happen several times during the course of the movie, and as the final credits scrolled up the screen, I would turn the channel back over to BBC 1. My father would wake up to enjoy the cup of tea my mother had made, convinced he had watched 90 minutes of fancy footwork, but not the kind we had been watching.
This Saturday afternoon ritual fuelled my love of dancing and singing. My heart and soul burned to be the lead, dancing and singing my way through the performances like Ginger Rogers, Esther Williams (yes I would have done synchronised swimming if called for) Deborah Kerr, Mitzi Gaynor etc. I had seen South Pacific at age ten and I would have even taken the role of Bloody Mary given half the chance. I knew all the lyrics from all the popular musicals of the day and wept buckets as John Kerr lip synched to “Younger than Springtime”; and I could perform all the songs from the Sound of Music.
Over the next few years I was lucky enough to be cast in a number of school plays. Being tall for my age, it usually involved me standing completely still for thirty minutes in the guise of a tree or some other inanimate object.
I did attempt to achieve some form of recognition for my talents, which included dressing in Swiss costume and dragging one of my friends around to old people’s homes to entertain the residents with the songs from The Sound of Music (they were very appreciative, let me tell you!). This did not impress my parents, who were adamant that when I left school, I must train as a secretary, as drama was not a profession to be relied on.
I left school in September 1969 at age 16 and enrolled in technical college for a year’s secretarial course. Over the course of the next twelve months, I became very proficient in shorthand and typing, but it was the extra classes we took in English that I enjoyed the most.
Our teacher Betty Lavington also taught drama, and had trained more than a few successful actors and actresses over the years. To my delight, she was casting for that year’s drama production which was the operetta “Passion Flower”, based on the story of Carmen, but adapted for the amateur stage and she encouraged me to audition.
Without informing my parents I decided to try my luck. I was rather expecting to be cast as part of the scenery again, but you can imagine my absolute thrill when our producer chose me to play Micaela – Carmen’s rival for the matador’s affections. Something that I kept from my parents, and they assumed I would be part of the chorus as usual.
Police cadets did their initial training at the college, and several of these were roped in to play the soldiers. Our producer recruited outside talent from her drama group to play the leads including an Australian dentist in his mid-thirties who took on the role of the matador, Escamillo, and a wonderful young singer called Julie took the part of Carmen.
The performances ran for three nights, and by the final evening I had almost conquered my nerves, despite the fact there were two very important people in the audience. I had persuaded my parents to come on the last night, with the expectation that it was likely to be the most flawless performance of the three. I was desperately hoping that if they saw how passionate I was about acting (and my talent); they might relent in their objections to me attending drama school.
I can still remember standing in the wings that night, knees quaking as I prepared for the cat fight with Carmen, followed by being manhandled by the soldiers as they pulled us apart enthusiastically. All was going very well until we reached the final scene when Escamillo threw a rose onto poor dead Carmen’s body, having been stabbed by a former lover, and then pulled me into his arms for a passionate kiss!
Unbeknownst to the rest of the cast, our lead actor had been celebrating the end to the run by consuming a number of cans of beer hidden in the wings. This certainly gave his performance some extra gusto which our producer put down to exuberance. As I swanned across the stage and into his arms for the expected stage kiss, he bent me over backwards and gave me a hearty smacker, before picking me up and rushing off stage.
Cue a very loud gasp from the cast clustered around poor Carmen’s corpse and from the front row where my mother and father were seated with other VIP guests. I can only assume they had already been taken aback by my starring role as a floozy, in an off the shoulder blouse, big earrings and a penchant for men in uniform. I also had an inkling that these last few minutes had not gone down well. My erstwhile suitor and I joined the cast and clasped hands, bowing in appreciation of the applause. All I could focus on was my father, arms crossed with a very frosty look on his face.
My mother told me later that my father had turned to her and shouted over the applause, ‘Who is that man and what was he up to with our daughter?” At this point, a woman who was sat next to my mother announced furiously ‘That would be my husband.”
As you can imagine, this fiasco did not further my ambitions to be allowed to attend drama school. Two weeks later, when I had graduated with my secretarial diploma, the evening paper’s employment section was strategically placed next to my beans on toast for supper. Probably for the best, as I have enjoyed a wonderful variety of jobs across a number of industries including broadcasting.
I do know that without Betty Lavington my dreams of being a musical star would never have been possible… even if it was only for three performances.
Thanks for dropping in today and I hope you have enjoyed this nostalgic step back in time… please share your memories of people who have made a difference in your life.. Sally
Oh, of course! I do remember this anecdote, and the changing channels when your Dad was asleep. My father always took charge of the main TV to watch football, but my mother and I eventually managed to get a second smaller set that we’d watch. What a shame about the performance, but what a great part to play! Thanks, Sally!
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Thanks Olga.. at least I had my 15 minutes of fame lol…hugsx
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LOL at this: “My mother told me later that my father had turned to her and shouted over the applause, ‘Who is that man and what was he up to with our daughter?” At this point, a woman who was sat next to my mother announced furiously ‘That would be my husband.”” Show-stopping line, indeed!
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I would like to have been a fly on the wall at the ensuing conversation… for me one of those formative moments in life lol.. xx
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That line was definitely the best part of Sally’s highly entertaining story!
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I’ve read this one before, Sally, and it still makes me laugh out loud!! x
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Good to hear thanks Alex…hugsxx
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I wish I was a fly on the wall to not only watch your performance but also see the reactions of your parents.
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Thankfully no mobile phones in those days but I think the student who was the official photographer my have snapped off a few….xx
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LOL love your tenacity Sal. We were (are) so much alike it’s frightening. Determination gets everything done. I hope you didn’t miss you chance at stardom LOL ❤
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It comes in all kinds of ways Debby and not sure it would be safe to form a double act lol..♥
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Lol you crack me up ❤
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♥♥
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Thanks for sharing Michael..hugsx
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Wonderful told, Sally! Dont worry, i also remember a football loving father. Lol Here this were horrible Saturday afternoons. Thanks for sharing, and have a beautiful evening! xx Michael
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Thanks Michael… those were the days… we don’t even have a television now.. we stream series and films we want to see… cannot abide the adverts.. hugsxx
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Who are you telling that, Sally! Until a year ago I vehemently refused to watch TV programs on the Internet. xx Michael
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Reblogged this on NEW OPENED BLOG > https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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I wanted to be just like Olivia Newton John in Grease, Sally. I also went to secretarial college for my first year after school. That is what girls did then in South Africa [on the whole]. The skills I learned have certainly stood me in good stead, especially typing.
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You look very like Olivia Newton John Robbie and would have been perfect for Grease.. and goodness in all my jobs I have needed to be able to type and use computers which I fell into in the early 80s.. great asset…hugs xx
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A great story, Sally. I can imagine the gusto a few cans of beer could engender on the part of Escamillo. Even a stage kiss could have had the same father reaction.
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Lol.. I was slightly taken aback I must admit but assumed it was a stage direction from the producer for the final show.. until I heard the gasps from the front row that is….hugsx
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Those gasps tell the tale.
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hugsxx
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Love the stories Sally! It reminded me of my father dozing in the chair with a baseball or football game on. However, in my story, whenever the channel was changed, he woke up!
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Oh..no .. not enough carbs at lunchtime Dorothy.. my father’s suet treacle pudding and custard guaranteed at least 40 mins at a time lol…xx
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You’re right! Mom should’ve loaded him up with dessert!
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♥♥
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Too bad your parents weren’t supportive of your acting dreams. Who knows what might have happened?
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I know, it was unrealistic at the time and to be fair at least my secretarial diploma got me jobs and even temp jobs.. But never say never, perhaps they might need a few extras for Downton lol..hugsx
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I can just imagine, Sally! Great drama…You do realize that you haven’t left ‘the stage’ at all, have you?! Only it’s ‘our stage’ – all the varied writers whose ‘performances’ you help along like a leading lady! So thank you. Hugs xx
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Thanks very much for saying that.. I guess over the years with various stints on radio and television I have found a stage in one way or another and you never know what is around the corner…xxhugsx
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Oh what I wouldn’t have paid to have seen that last performance.
Huge Hugs
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At least it has served as a story to tell, even if my hopes for an acting career were dashed lol.. thanks David..hugsx
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Loved this, Sally.
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Thank you Mary.. what a Carry On lol… xxx♥
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And then you went to work for a dentist!!!
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lol.. that I did but he was 50 years older than me and couldn’t have picked me up and whisked me anywhere if he tried ♥
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I wish I had been sitting close by to hear your father’s words and the wife’s rebuttal. Priceless!
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I had to sit in the car with him on the way home!!! ♥
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Oh, noooo!!!
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lol. xx
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Oh how I loved this story!!
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Thanks very much Jennie..hugsx
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You’re welcome, Sally! 😍
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Delightful tale and enchantingly told! You have only excelled in your passion for entertaining but on a worldwide stage these days!! Brava.
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Thanks very much Annette.. I don’t think Betty who was about 45 at the time is still with us but I hope she is on a stage somewhere..♥
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