I didn’t believe it at first. I mean, the thought of him – my father-in-law of all people – voluntarily joining a non-AFL affiliated group that has its own website, and apps!, was simply too incredible. But of all the things that might be said of him (his disdain, for example, of the most wonderful gifts of life – like butter, and real football, and whisky, and Bob Dylan), being a perjurer and fabulist is not among them. Deluded about many things he may be, including the wholesomeness of his son-in-law, he remains one of the straightest shooters I’ve ever met. And so while his piano abilities far outstrip his gifts in the singing department, when he pronounced recently that he had joined a singing group called Men in Suits (a little ironic, I suppose, given that I’m not sure he owns a suit that he can fit into) I had little reason to doubt him … and I was elated.
I paid for that doubtlessness, however. For upon its vocalisation, I was forced to listen – at very high volume! – to song after song, too many songs, while strapped in to the back seat of his car. Among my favourites was this one called ‘Metro’: