Counting Daves.

Big Dave was an English taxi driver. I met him when I was a student in England and he worked for a local taxi company that shuttled students back and forth between Harlaxton Manor where we lived and had our classes and nearby Grantham where we went to pubs and threw up in the street, but that’s another story. We called him Big Dave because he took up most of the front of the taxi. And also there was another guy named Dave who worked for the same company. Little Dave. He was the exact opposite of Big Dave. It’s not unusual to meet two guys named Dave, even two guys named Dave who worked for the same small company, but they were so different it was as though they’d both been cooked up in some mad scientist’s experiment. Big Dave had straight black hair with a streak of gray and jet black eyes. He always wore a gray-green jumper—sweater on this side of the pond—so he kind of resembled a big mossy boulder. Little Dave preferred powder blue shirts and had curly ginger hair, and he wore glasses over his pale blue eyes. Big Dave was also chatty and always had a story, like the time he was bitten by the only poisonous snake in Britain, but Little Dave was quiet, and so small that if you sat directly behind him and leaned back you could almost imagine the cab was driving itself.

So one Saturday morning I was riding into Grantham with Little Dave and we passed a house that was covered with crows. Absolutely covered. There were so many I wasn’t even sure there was a house underneath. Maybe there was some ravens there too.

Source: Know Your Meme

“Did you see that?” Little Dave said. I perked up, unused to hearing Little Dave say anything other than “That’ll be £1.50” and “Ta very much.”

“The crows?” I said.

“Yeah, a lot of them on that house back there.”

I leaned forward. “Isn’t there some folklore about crows on a roof?”

And Little Dave started to sing, quietly:

“One for sadness, two for mirth;

 Three for marriage, four for birth;

 Five for laughing, six for crying:

 Seven for sickness, eight for dying;

 Nine for silver, ten for gold;

 Eleven a secret that will never be told.”

“There were a lot more than eleven on that house,” I said. “What does that mean?”

“It’s either really good for them or really bad,” and Little Dave started to laugh and didn’t say anything for the rest of the trip.

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  1. BarbaraM

    I would love to see the actual size of your music library. You’re able to find the most bizarre songs ever produced!

    But the crows have me a little bit spooked.

    Did you ever find out what happened in that house to attract so many crows?

    1. Christopher Waldrop (Post author)

      Would you believe I have most of my music collection in my head? It’s a terrible affliction. I can remember the silliest thing I saw forty years ago but I forget to pick up celery at the grocery.
      And I never did figure out what attracted the crows.


    You are the best Christopher I know, and I’m not just counting crows.
    ANN J KOPLOW recently posted…Day 2886: Hold on to your face masks.My Profile

    1. Christopher Waldrop (Post author)

      I’m counting this among my favorite comments.

  3. mydangblog

    Kids In The Hall are the best and the Dave song is one of my favourites, especially coming from a family where there’s at least one David in every generation!
    mydangblog recently posted…Simple DistractionsMy Profile

    1. Christopher Waldrop (Post author)

      I think the Kids In The Hall had a lasting and profound effect on our generation, and we’re so much better for it.

  4. Jill Everson

    Oh… you bring back the memories Man… thanks for sharing…

  5. Pingback: Jack The Tipper. - Freethinkers Anonymous

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