Sailing

Sailing 1979 / 2007

My maternal grandmother Pauline Cooper (1933-2004) introduced me to the concept of the 'funeral song'.

Nan was my best mate. A couple of times I ran away from home during primary school years in the mid-1980s. As we lived at Hurstville and my Nan at Rockdale (in the southern suburbs of Sydney) it wasn't the biggest journey. Actually it was on foot and my mum was always a bit flabbergasted that I'd walk there.

Nan was cool. She used to let me stay up all hours watching Rage on the ABC, but only if I would tape music videos for her as she liked to have them playing when she did the housework. She was a big fan of Rod Stewart, Tina Turner and Michael Jackson. She thought Madonna a "Jezebel". Nan even recorded some songs herself off the Saturday morning show Video Hits - back when it was palatable (pre-bling, denim hipsters and date rape).

I recall circa 1987 that Nan was so proud that she'd managed to be in the right place and time to tape Fleetwood Mac's music video Everywhere. I haven't seen the video for ages, but it's typical Fleetwood Mac: white horses, shadows and magic. But within days of her taping it, I accidentally recorded another music video over it. The video accidentally replacing Fleetwood Mac was Walk the Dinosaur by Was Not Was - a ridiculous song that I'd say no one remembers except it has been viewed on YouTube over 100,000 times! When I confessed to Nan, she was really upset and it was the only time I remember her being mad at me. (But I think she was probably only mad for about half an hour).

And I don't blame her for being upset: I would get mad if anyone fucked with whatever was my favourite song at the time. If she was alive today I would find it for her on YouTube. And I just know that after playing it for her she would tell me to rewind it. She had a thing about archiving her VHS and keeping them in pristine user-friendly condition. I just know that Nan would hate the digital era - she never had a DVD player even though she watched them when she visited family members who had DVD players. But she could never get her head around the fact that a movie (on a disc) had the same formal properties as a format renowned only for audio. And it took her ages to comprehend the audio CD after years of saying she'd never stop buying vinyl. I'm glad she stuck to her guns as her vinyl comprises some of the best I have in my collection today.

Music was a huge part of my Nan's life and she introduced me to heaps of music that I still listen to today. For as long as I can remember Nan would tell everyone in my large Irish Catholic family that if we didn't play Sailing by Rod Stewart at her funeral, she would haunt us. As she had Parkinson's Disease for about 20 years before passing away in 2004, she could be quite a handful, so the thought of being 'haunted' was not alluring.

When she died, we played Sailing at her funeral, twice actually. Her funeral was held at a small, discreet cemetery near Sanctuary Point, on the south coast where she moved after retirement. As Sailing played the second time, a very conspicuous jet plane flew overhead, showing off with a nosedive before flying away and leaving a thick cloud of exhaust in its wake.

To this day my family talk about how Nan's exit was so theatrical, so uncannily fitting.