Toto

Is it six days since I blogged! Blimey doesn’t time fly when you’re being Vanessa.
The week flew. My nephew Dan’s postie listened to the weeks broadcasts his verdict thus:
Monday she was ropey.
Tuesday she was better.
Wednesday she started getting it right.
And by the end of the week she filled Vanessa’s very difficult shoes.
Telling me. The thing about sitting in for somebody is that they have a loyal audience – thank goodness – and nobody wants to nick anybody elses fans.
So a big thank you for your generosity.
Let me tell you playing impartial, not being opinionated, finding humility, and learning the Beeb’s way, was intensely tiring.
If it hadn’t been for the team, from Esther to Charlotte, I would have choked on my syntax.

On Friday afternoon I went and visited a man called Trevor who talked to me about the tricks our unconscious mind plays on us.
I went to The Tricycle Theatre with Gods Gift on Friday night. Filter’s production of ‘WATER’ was dreamy. We sat in the second row and watched a fantastic cast and a shoal of fish whilst Trevors thoughts ran round through my head.
I’m seeing him again on Friday, when I get it clear in my muddled brain what we’re talking about I’ll let you know. right now I’m still processing it. But I liked clever Trevor.
On Saturday we visited my mother, Jim listened and chatted with her whilst I cleared out two of her cupboards.
On Sunday we had a really busy show with calls from Hollywood to Hendon.
Monday was ‘MILLION DOLLAR QUARTET’ at The Noel Coward Theatre.
My husband met Jeff Beck. My husband, the musician, was awestruck by Jeffrey
‘Can I shake your hand?’ my husband asked of the legendary guitarist.
‘It’s shaking already’ said the genius.
Bill Wyman, Suzi Quatro, Chas, and various other luminaries of the rock and roll fraternity filled the seats in St. Martins Lane. The after show party was a who’s who of actors, musicians and girls in very low cut dresses that revealed quite how cold the night air was.
Last night nine of us celebrated my daughters birthday in a Vietnamese restaurant in Soho.
We tied balloons to the chairs whilst Barry had her a cake made with her name and future written on it in fancy icing.
She opened her presents to the sound of Vietnamese pop, thats music not beverage, then we decamped to the Phoenix where Morris turned down the lights, upped the music and everybody sung B Happy Birthday. Morris gave her a bottle of champagne and me a glass of hot lemon and ginger.
I drove us home – it was so cold my teeth were chattering.
Today I had tea and olives with a man from the Beeb. He was charming, informative and reminded me that there are still those who know how to have a conversation.
This evening I met with a girlfriend and we went to see The ‘Wizard of Oz’ at the Palladium.
After a a plate of bacon and potato wedges we entered the refurbished world of popularist theatre.
I didn’t recognise the carpets, the smell or the furnishings. My old LBC boss was collecting his tickets so I hid behind a refurbished pillar.
We took our seats in the fourth row. Couldn’t see the feet of the actors so I sat right up in my seat so I could see Dorothys red shoes.
Toto was fun.
The set was impressive but the colours were too primary and garish that I had to rub my eyes just like Dorothy. Michael Crawford played the Wizard.
Toto was good.
The Wicked Witch of the West did a lot of flying, cackling and jolly good enunciating.
Toto was sweet.
Watching the tin man, the scarecrow, the lion and Dorothy trying to follow the revolving yellow brick road was something.
Toto was disorientated.
The audience was full of voters who had voted Dorothy into the show and coaches of children from stage schools in The Wirral who wanted to be the next Andrew Lloyd Webber winner.
I left before I bumped into my old LBC boss.
Toto took the biscuits from Dorothy and took the biscuit.
I took the Number 38 bus to Victoria then a taxi because the air was so cutting my body ached.
The old gits in the cottage, whilst the daughter is celebrating her 24th year with a group of her friends in Hackerknee.
Twenty four years ago I was in Crowborough Maternity Cottage Hospital with my 17 hour old daughter. Doesn’t time fly when you’re being a parent?