The day I heard he died, I wanted to break into the Royal Philharmonic

Orchestra and swap all of their instruments for cheap toy xylophones

I wanted to hear nothing all day but ding, ding, ding, ring! With a

Flourish at the end of it, and a shy open smile, because you never

Heard one without seeing the other. I wanted everyone to play

Xylophones and nobody to have a tune. Even the squirrels on the

Emmet clock, with their petals unbending and their enormous sense

Of civic pride, I wanted them tapping away on tiny keys, ting

Ting, ting, ring! And now at the very least, I want a tram to be

Named after him, and a statue in Listergate, a memorial march once

A year, twice round the council house and off to Broadmarsh

Everyone dressed in comfortable woollen jackets whatever the weather

And slightly shiny trousers, and a parade of xylophones. Everybody

Smiling. Everyone shaking out their arms on the final ding. And

I want everyone to know how that man used to make me smile, and

How he can still make me smile. How I can conjure him up whenever

I need to, and how I wish I'd thanked him when I still had time