Burma

This morning at 8.30 the new six foot bed arrived. Two big blokes refused tea, took away the old bed and left us with two tons of plastic wrapping and eight wheels that had to be pushed into the bed base. There are two drawers for oddments and a very hard mattress to break in. i’ve ordered some crampons so that Jim and I can reach each other in the night.
I hurriedly got dressed and walked to the junction, took the overland to Waterloo and sauntered through Charing Cross. Had my tiiny little umbrella and my Pacamac. looked like a tourist from the 60’s.
The show covered care homes, Sarcozy and Sunday opening in France – most of his Nation prefer to keep the seventh day peaceful and quiet – then segued into on Spud the hedgehog who was abandoned and brought back to life with a little TLC and baby oil massages, the final push covered Independent schools that are losing their charity status and Joan Bakewell who talked about her latest novel.
I then set off with my microphone and recorder to Bafta.
Firstly I met up with my agent in Flat White, my fave coffee bar in Berwick Street, he’d had a meeting with B to discuss her entree into the real world. He was suportive and realistic. She left to start writing leaving me with Rob who talked about my entree into the real world.
Then the agent and me toddled off to Bafta to await my first ever interview with my own mic. My subject? Ms Vivienne Westwood.
Actually the mic belongs to Jo Parkerson our showbiz editor. She taught me how to turn the on switch on and off and how to press record, hardly rocket science.
Ms Westwood and I found a quiet room where she talked about Global warming and being a responsible human being she made me cry. Then I went down to the food and drink before the Premiere of SAFFRON, Ms Westwoods address to the audience and the gut wrenching documentary shot on hidden mobile phones about Burma.
I wandered round and gathered interviews from various celebs who are supporting the cause. like a real journo I stuck a mic in their face and asked questions. I have no idea whether I pressed the right buttons, tomorrow I will find out when Jo Parkerson edits the audio. It felt quite empowering being on the otherside of the mic for a change. None of the posing for cameras or making sure I was giving the right sound bite. I loved Dexter Fletcher and the Buddhist Nun from Eskdalemuir.
The film was harrowing watching the violence and remembering that it was for real, no Mac red fake blood or tomato sauce this time. I ate half a block of fair trade chocolate and felt sick from the sugar and the pictures.
The Burma campaign has to be supported. The criminal military junta has slaughtered hundreds of monks and journalists have been imprisoned in remote jails for life just for gettng pictures to the outside world.
I grabbed a taxi in the pouring rain and arrived back at the flat in time to tell Jim I loved him and remind myself that however tricky my life is it aint anywhere near as dodgy as the existence our Burmese cousins have to face. I will be doing it on the show tomorrow.
Right now I’m sipping my sleepy Valerian tea and getting into my 6 foot bed, which, with any luck, I shall fall asleep immediately in.
I hope you have a peaceful night too.