One of the great Irish social traditions, now almost defunct, was that everyone was expected to have a "party piece", writes Michael Parsons
The musical were fortunate as they could sing, play an instrument - or both. But no one escaped. Those who couldn't play even the spoons or people who "hadn't a note in their body" (of whom there are many more than know it, in this country) were expected to have a recitation. This could range from declaiming a stirring extract from the 1916 Proclamation to a passage from Shakespeare or a poem by Yeats - rewarded by shouts of "maith an buachaill"! Primary school had taught us to memorise everything from multiplication tables to the "Hail Holy Queen".
What would children recite today? Pauline Fowler's moving soliloquy from Eastenders, Episode 976, Scene 23, in which she mourns the decision of her son Martin to return to the arms of "that scheming cow, Sonia"? Or, perhaps, the acceptance speech by Ms Kerry Katona on being crowned "Queen of the Jungle"?
But despite the decline of the party piece, there is still a deep-rooted desire in the national psyche to belt out a song - a phenomenon much in evidence at this time of the year and routinely during the closing stages of wedding receptions.
There are few more distressing social experiences than being in the company of a middle-aged man who, after a few pints of Heineken, attempts to sing Procol Harum's Whiter Shade of Pale - or, perhaps even worse, House of the Rising Sun by the appropriately named Animals, accompanied by "air guitar".
Did someone just say: "Oh yes there is"? Well, all right. A beer-belly squeezed into a synthetic green Ireland shirt belting out "Olé, olé, olé, olé". But at least, and it is admittedly a small mercy, he knows all the words.
Yes, yes, there is only one word, but it's a far, far better thing than observing someone forget all the words except "There is a house in New Orleans". People will quite happily start to croon Strangers in the Night, but can't wait to get to the "dooby, dooby, doo" but, because that's all they know.
Why on earth don't people stick to songs to which everyone knows the words? Silly question: for how many people out there know all the words to any song? Go on, try it. Ask whoever is currently sitting next to you to sing an entire song word perfectly - even Baa-Baa Black Sheep - without fluffing any lines or mumbling.
People spend thousands of euro on the most elaborate "sound systems", own towering racks of CDs, use iPods and MP3s, pay fortunes to go to see their favourite "groups", gobble up tabloid tattle about the most obscure "artists", listen to "music" stations all day long and watch, in their millions, TV shows like You're A Star, Pop Idol and The X-Factor. But very few seem to be able to remember more than a couple of lines of any song.
Can you get past the opening line of My Way - or even remember the opening line? How does The Banks of my Own Lovely Lee actually start? Galway Bay? The second verse of The Wild Rover? And have you ever met anybody who can sing even the chorus of Auld
Lang Syne word-perfectly? Even hugely popular songs like Do They Know It's Christmas? seem to flummox people. This is one of the best-selling records ever. You probably bought a copy. Can you sing or recite the first three lines? And hands up, honestly, can you sing Amhrán na bFhiann - in full - or do you mouth some of the words hoping that the rest of the crowd will carry you along?
But recently there is one song the whole country seems to be singing. It is being whistled and hummed on building sites across the land; truckers on the M50 are tapping their feet to it; they're line-dancing to it from Leitrim to Limerick; and if you drive across Ireland its infectious melody follows you across the dials from one local radio station to the next. And every single schoolchild in Ireland seems to know it by heart.
"Two eggs two rasher two sausage two bacon two puddins one black and white/ All placed like a tower on top of each other and then wrapped up good and tight/ If you're having some tea the milks over there and you'll find sugar in the bowl/ Says she "Do you want some sauce on that" says I, "I do in my roll"
Now, why do they find Yeats so difficult to learn by rote?