One of my favourite pop songs goes back to the 1960s (most do, if I’m honest). It is 24 Hours From Tulsa sung by a gent who had a most melodic and distinctive voice, Gene Pitney. Recently I heard it again on the radio and was captivated as always by the beat plus the clarity of Pitney’s singing. However, although I have heard this rhythmic number scores of times over the past 50 plus years, for the first time I really took on board the words he was uttering – and just how devastating, indeed shameful they were, and are; in effect a statement of contemptible, unforgiveable, selfish, bewildering and almost chilling callousness on the part of the fellow who was but a day away from his home.
The lyrics are simple and heartlessly to the point; ‘Dearest, darling, I had to write to say that I won’t be home anymore, ’cause something happened to me while I was driving home and I’m not the same anymore.’
He goes on to say to his wife or partner – it would seem by letter (he appears not to have had the courtesy or guts to actually talk to her, even on the phone) – that staying in a hotel just a day away from his abode he had met another lady and intended to abandon his spouse, and probably family also, to spend the rest of his days with someone he’d known but a few hours.
Such an act of seemingly breathtaking impulse can be viewed in different ways; the highly romantic might well see it as being heart-warming, the cynical as being the actions of someone who had possibly had too much to drink, the practical as being the act of a man gripped by insanity (and not necessarily of the temporary variety).
There can, of course, be other ways of viewing it, few I’m sure, in any sympathetic way.
Those with a jaundiced approach when contemplating the vagaries of human nature and behaviour might well class it as being stupid, others who believe in propriety, who feel that a gentleman should conduct himself to a standard which decent, honourable society would expect of him, might well view such a deed as being that of – to use a word long out of fashion – a cad.
Myself, I deem it a grievous, appalling act of disloyalty.
All of which brings us back to loyalty, to me possibly the most vital and desirable quality any human being should possess. There are many more, of course; kindness, respect for others, generosity of spirit and of thought, courtesy, integrity, principle, courage, honesty – the list, if not endless, is long.
Can there be anything however more precious than being ‘faithful and steadfast’ when it comes to close personal ties – to one’s partner in life and also one’s family.
Personally I have received from Ann total, unequivocal support during our 50 plus years of marriage; from our family we have had likewise over the years and decades; ‘All for one and one for all,’ as the saying goes.
Assuredly they have ever received likewise from us. Friends and work colleagues too – they deserve attention and support plus honest dealings in all matters. I do not, mind you, believe in blind loyalty – allegiance to that which is wrong, even evil. Faithfulness to someone who is abusing a child, for instance, or devotion to a brutal dictator – such clearly is amiss.
What is right, however, if living in a democratic land, is loyalty to one’s country. The great majority of folk are – but by no means all.
There are those who go abroad on holiday but class virtually everything foreign as being superior to that which is British; some retire abroad but live largely on pensions provided by the British taxpayer. Nothing illegal about any of this, clearly, but it hardly seems to be ‘playing the game’.
Mind you, such people while not contributing to the country, are, to be fair, doing it no real harm. There are those, however, who do – and have done – immense damage to the British race; those of our nationality who pass on or sell secrets to foreign powers.
These represent something well beyond disloyalty – for they are traitors. When caught they should be locked up for life – literally.