Jingle Sells

The first inkling I had was when I was walking home after taking Russell to nursery. A gentle breeze carried a little tune towards me. It was whistled slightly off key, but it seemed familiar. I glanced towards the whistler. It was Elma Mulberry doing some work on his motorbike, oblivious to the rest of the world. Shrugging, I continued my journey.

A couple of blocks further on, two young hamsters passed by me - Jane and George Hamilton. As usual, little Georgie was protected from the sun by his enormous hat. However, this time there was more than his pale little face emerging from beneath the brim. The same melody, hummed but more tuneful than Elma's whistling. I frowned. Why did it sound so familiar?

I walked on, wracking my brain, and I was getting closer to remembering. It sounded like...

From behind a garden wall a voice sang out, punctuated by grunts of activity. "...the brightest, micest smiles I've seen..."

Not like. It was a jingle that I'd written, together with Christian Snow-Warren, a few years ago.

The singer straightened so that they were visible above the wall. It was Perry Babblebrook doing a spot of gardening. Catching sight of me, he nodded a greeting. "Smashing day for a bit of weeding, Jackson. That bit o' rain last night has loosened the soil nicely."

"Good to know, Perry. Keeping well?"

"Can't complain. Can't complain." His attention was caught by something by his feet. "Well, must get on. Give my best to the family." He disappeared again and the singing resumed. Our jingle.

Now a job of song-writing doesn't guarantee a steady income, so Chris and I used to earn some money writing some advertising jingles for a few products. This particular jingle was for a brand of toothpaste, and it became quite popular when they used to play it on the radio.

"Squirrels, hamsters, mice and rats,
Need strong teeth - those are the facts.
The brightest micest smiles I've seen
Are fresh and clean from Rodentene"

Corny, I know, but coupled with a catchy tune it paid quite a few bills, making it a worthwhile endeavour. But that was over three years ago. Had the radio station started playing it again?

o 0 O 0 o

Back home, Cecile called from the kitchen. "In here, Jack. Chris has come to see you."

Entering, I saw my work-chum sitting at the table, enjoying a coffee. He smiled when he saw me.

"Hi mate. You'll never guess why I'm here."

"Rodentene?"

His face froze for a moment, then relaxed with his lop-sided smile. "You've seen the advert too."

"Television?"

"Yes. The family were round at Clary's last night and we were all watching a variety show on CCV. There was a commercial break and there it was. Some animated mice advertising Rodentene toothpaste, complete with our jingle. That was a surprise, I'm telling you. The children thought it hilarious."

"Calico Crittervision playing our jingle? Yes. That's... unexpected."

Cecile put her head on one side and regarded me. "Especially since the Rodentene people didn't let you know. Or pay you."

It was true. Trust Cecile to remember that we had been paid for radio broadcasts, not television. Her other point was well made too. Not so much the makers of Rodentene, but certainly the Tell 'em Sell 'em agency should have contacted us. They had been the intermediary that had created the radio advertisements using our jingle.

"It's early enough to catch the switchboard," I said, "I'll phone them."

Whilst Mellowdene has a small telephone network that allows direct contact between local households and businesses, long distance calls to other parts of Sylvania require that we go through a switchboard. This is only available at certain times in daylight hours, and switchboard duties are shared between four residents.

Having located the number for the advertising agency, I dialled the code for the switchboard. Mabel Periwinkle was on duty.

"Hello, Jackson. How are Cecile and the kiddies?"

"Hello, Mrs Periwinkle. they're..."

"Mabel."

"Mabel. Thank you. They're fine."

"Good. I saw your brother Newton the other day. Audrey will be pleased he's back from working away. And it's good he's here to help with the twins."

"Yes. It's nice he's home. Now I need to..."

"And wasn't the Melting good this year? I did enjoy hear Bernard sing. And you on the accordion, of course. Mack commented on your ability."

"Yes. Thank you." I paused, waiting in case she was going to impart more village news. But today she was less talkative than usual.

"Now I mustn't let you keep me talking. You'll be wanting to telephone someone."

I gave her the details and listened to the whirrs and clicks as she tried to connect me. I heard muffled voices as she talked to her counterpart in  Willowbank County. Eventually she spoke to me again.

"I'm sorry, Jackson. That number is not available. The company are no longer there."

o 0 O 0 o

"Our deal was with Tell 'em Sell 'em," I said, after relating to Chris and Cecile the details of the phone call. "I'm not clear how someone else could produce the advert without their involvement."

"And it was the same arrangement of the jingle, albeit re-recorded," said Chris.

"I suppose we could call Rodentene," I said, thinking aloud.

"What about Ashley?" said Chris.

Ashley Maces (the business mind behind the Mice & Clean waste management company) had put us onto Tell 'em Sell 'em when we were seeking an advertising agency. Maybe he knew what had happened to them. A couple of phone calls and we located him at Minestrone House where he has a small apartment.

"I haven't needed to deal with them recently," he said, "but I remember reading that they had moved to Oak Tree Meadows to be nearer the television companies. Oh, and they'd changed their name to  TESE Advertising to present a more professional front."

"Thanks, Ashley," I said, "that's really useful."

"Are you back writing jingles, then?" said Ashley, "I thought the songs you wrote on Lionel Grande's last two records would have steered you away from those."

"No new jingles, but Rodentene toothpaste are unexpectedly using our old one again."

"Ah. Don't use it myself. I've used natural products for years and see no need to change."

"Well, as I said, thanks for your help Ashley."

o 0 O 0 o

Back to Mabel Periwinkle, and with a little work she was able to connect me to TESE Advertising. Unexpectedly, I was put through to the appropriate department quite quickly.

I spoke to someone called Bernard Sellars. He knew my name and from the start of the conversation he was very apologetic.

"Mr Butterglove," he said, "I'm so pleased you have contacted us. We have had some issues here at TESE and we have been unable to locate you. I can only apologise that it's taken so long."

He went on to explain that the move to Oak Tree Meadows had not been entirely successful. Some files had been misplaced - hopefully temporarily - during transportation, and our contact details had been amongst them.

On top of this, Rodentene had been in touch to relaunch their prime tooth-care product using television. They had already engaged animators, but needed us to supply the jingle, and the target date was fixed.

"We had a decision. We could either decline, or to go ahead in the hope that we could strike a deal that you would find satisfactory when we were able to contact you."

"And you couldn't really decline," I said, "as they are a major client."

"I'm grateful you understand," said Bernard. "I hope that when I tell you the deal, it will help compensate for the delay in communications."

o 0 O 0 o

When Bernard Sellars ended the call, I was standing immobile for a good minute, phone receiver still in my hand, replaying the deal. It wasn't what I expected at all.

With the radio advertisements, Tell 'em Sell 'em had agreed a one-off flat fee for our work - generous at the time. With the new television advertisements, TESE Advertising had secured a considerably larger fee, but had also managed to get additional small payments for each showing of the commercial. The longer and more widespread the campaign, the more we would get. It seemed the Rodentene people really liked our little tune.

Bernard said that he would be contacting Hugo Trunk, manager of the Mellowdene Bank, once our phone call had concluded, so that payments could commence immediately.

o 0 O 0 o

It's nice when your work is appreciated - whether it's Lionel Grande having a hit record with one of your songs, or a toothpaste company who pay over the odds because they're intent on using a little tune you've written.

Hearing your songs whistled, hummed or sung on the streets of your village gives one a warm feeling. And when your own children raise their voices in song...

"Squelching hankies, nice and wet,
Is it snot or is it sweat?.
It's red and glows with such a sheen
Don't rub your nose with Rodentene!"


There's no way one can become big-headed in Mellowdene..

Telly Parties

There aren't too many television sets in Mellowdene. Most families seem to be happy enough with the news and music supplied with their radiograms. Some are wary of the new technology, some don't see the need, and a few think it could be a bad influence.

At the moment I suppose I fall somewhere in the second camp, although I'm not averse to being convinced otherwise. I periodically check the TV schedules in the Mellowdene Examiner, but - compared to the radio schedules - I feel neither the STC nor the CCV (the two channels we could receive) offer much extra.

My boy Brendan would probably disagree, but that's probably because he is often infatuated with a particular TV serial. I know Brendan's infatuations are frequently short-lived so his occasional pleas of "Why can't we get a telly?" can be diverted in the knowledge that his attention will be redirected before too long.

In any case, Lucky Snow-Warren's family own a television and they are happy for Lucky to hold a weekly "Telly Party" to which he can invite his pals. As Lucky's best friend, Brendan is invited and he naturally looks forward to this. We show our appreciation by inviting Lucky to eat with us beforehand.

Telly Parties have become small community events and seem to encourage friendships through a shared interest. A bit like book clubs, I suppose.

o 0 O 0 o

One afternoon recently, Brendan and Lucky were playing a dress up game. Lucky had some sort of dome over his head meant to represent a space helmet. Brendan had a false beard and he had borrowed some fancy clothes that made him look like a sideshow magician.

"Ptoo, ptoo!" said Lucky, pointing his finger at Brendan.

"Ha-harr!" said Brendan, "My magic aura melts your raygun stuff!"

"Noooo!"

I called them over.

"Who are you supposed to be, then? Bunny Rogers in the 25th Century?"

Brendan laughed. "No, dad. Lucky's playing Flash Gopher. I'm Mink the Merciless."

"You're the baddie?"

"Yes!" He turned to Lucky and growled. "Gurrr! I am the baddest man in the galaxy. You are in my power. Yield before me, Flash Gopher!"

"Never!" said Lucky,

Their play was interrupted when Beverley popped her head around the doorway. Upon seeing the role play between her brother and Lucky, she rolled her eyes. "Mum says to go and wash your paws 'cause tea is ready."

Lucky removed his space helmet and we made a move. Walking along, Lucky whispered to me. "Is it true that Brendan had an uncle called Flash who died?"

I nodded. "My cousin Bobbie was married to a rabbit called Flash Bobtail. Shortly after Biddie was born he accidentally fell from a rooftop. It's very sad."

"Yes, it is. Maybe that's why Brendan chose to play Mink rather than Flash Gopher."

I looked at the little white rabbit by my side and smiled. Such insight for one so young.

o 0 O 0 o

The meal was over. It would soon be time for the Telly Party and Flash Gopher and the Purple Moon of Saturn. As the boys moved to depart, Lucky turned to Cecile, his face suddenly serious. "Thank you for a lovely tea, Mrs Butterglove."

"Why, thank you Lucky," replied Cecile suppressing a smile.

Brendan's voice called from the vicinity of the front door, "Come on, Lucky - we'll be late!" and Lucky responded with an uncomfortable smile, a tiny wave, a steady walk out of the room and the sound of rapid footsteps as he ran down the hall. A slammed door and we heard laughter as the two boys hurtled down the garden path.

"The siren call of the television set," I remarked.

Cecile put her head on one side and regarded me with mock concern. "The lure of the piano. The clutch of the carrot casserole, The stickyness of a jam session..."

I chuckled. "Point made, Cessie."

o 0 O 0 o

It was nearly two hours later, shortly before dusk, when I heard the door click. Brendan had returned. He made his way to my side, wiping his nose with the back of his paw. I could see dried tear marks on his cheeks.

"Whatever is the matter, my little man?" I said, putting my arm around his shoulders. I felt him shuddering, trying but failing not to cry.

"It's Flash Gopher," he sobbed. "I think he's dead."

I managed to find out that the channel had aired the last episode in the series, and the drama had ended on a cliff hanger where the hero had apparently fallen to his death. Undoubtedly a new season of the show would have him miraculously reappear, but that wouldn't be for some months. I tried to reassure him, but he looked up at me with glistening eyes.

"But Auntie Bobbie's husband didn't come back when he fell off that roof. Biddie never met her daddy."

It never occurred to me that Flash Bobtail's death could be made real because of a TV programme. I hugged my boy until he calmed down. When Cecile came downstairs from attending to Russell, Brendan detached himself from me and went to hold his mum instead.

Shortly afterwards, after cuddles, warm drinks and reassurances, Brendan went to bed.

"You can't blame the television," said Cecile.

"I'm not," I said, "It's probably good that he got those feelings out."

"Yes. But it makes you wonder what will come next."

"And how Flash Gopher will return," I said, wiggling my fingers in the air.

"Idiot."

o 0 O 0 o

We needn't have been concerned about Brendan. The next morning, Lucky came to play. He had brought his book on pirates.

Brendan hopped into the room with a mop under his arm, pirate hat on his head.

I looked down at my youngest, who had stopped rocking on his rocking horse.

"Aarr," said Russell.

o 0 O 0 o

Editorial: Broadcasts to Mellowdene

Most - if not all - residents of Mellowdene would agree that life is good here. Part of this is due to the careful assessment we make regarding "progress". Quality of life is always the most important consideration. It is the duty of us all to balance comfort, convenience and technology whilst maintaining the values and environment we have established over many years. The Mellowdene council has been foremost in clarifying our choices and, so far, it seems to have worked. We have drinking water, electricity and sanitation in most of our houses. That is positive progress considering that the village was founded by four families around a watering hole!

Wow. That was serious, wasn't it!

One item that was debated was the issue of radio and television and how it would affect our way of life. It's quite a few years ago, but the idea of radio programmes broadcast from locations around Sylvania was thought miraculous and was almost universally accepted. Many households own radiograms.

The acceptance of television was less clear-cut. Younger residents were happy with the idea, but some older crittizens thought that radios were sufficient. There was only agreement after assessment of the quality of the broadcasters  Practically, Mellowdene can only receive television from two Sylvanian broadcasters - the Sylvanian Television Company (STC) and the Calico Crittervision (CCV). Their programming tends to be family-friendly. Educational broadcasts, news and a handful of dramas, all fitting within a window of five hours a day.

Unlike radiograms, the take-up of television sets was limited. This has increased associations between youngsters so that they can congregate when popular dramas are aired. They call these "telly parties."