I saw in yesterday’s Guardian that singer Beverley had died in April.
I featured her version of Randy Newman’s Happy New Year on 1/1/2021.
Beverley’s marriage to John Martyn was marred by abusive behaviour on his part and also meant Beverley’s career, certainly in a solo sense, stalled.
This was her second solo single. This time a song written by Donovan – which is obvious when you listen to it.
Beverley: Museum
Though known after her marriage, and in her musical collaborations with John, as Beverley Martyn, in accordance with the Scottish tradition on headstones I commemorate her in death with her maiden name.
Beverley Kutner: 24/3/1947 – 27/4/2026. So it goes.
A couple of supermarkets – Morrisons and, I think, Sainsbury’s – I visited between Christmas and the New Year had signs up saying, “Happy Hogmanay.”
Happy Hogmanay?
No-one ever says that.*
My local Tesco made a better fist of it. Their sign – above the alcholic drinks isle, natch – said, “Celebrate Hogmanay,” which is more like it. But even then drink isn’t usually taken till after the bells, by which time Hogmanay is past.
In passing I hope any USian readers note the absence of the possessive (‘s) in the above sentence. Which is to say I did not write, “Happy New Year’s,” a usage I have heard on US TV programmes and which every time I do hear manages to irritate me enormously.
In Scotland (and the UK as a whole) the greeting relates to the whole year; not just to its first day. For this reason I shall still be saying, “Happy New Year,” to folks during all of next week – and beyond, depending on when I first encounter people during 2011.
It’s a culture thing. Ignore me if you like.
If you’re Chinese, or Middle Eastern, New Year is some other time anyway.
