I have been practicing I WILL SURVIVE.
I’ve re-written the words so that when I stand up on MARCH 26th in CROYDON to celebrate being sixty and old I will be slick and well oiled.
I am having to write some jokes for the evening.
I am having to write some treatments for the radio.
I am having to get my chapters ready for my book.
I am having to read more books than Mad Mick for LBC.
And I have been recovering from the absence of the old git for three weeks. You would think, wouldn’t you that after thirty three years of marital blitz I could get along very well without him.
Well I can but I do not like it so let that be the end of it.
I did FUNNY WOMEN on Sunday night. I was taught a magic act by FAY PRESTO.
I don’t remember it but it went down well. I may do some of it in Croydon. I have been told somebody wants to book me in May to do it again. I kid you not. Magic now already!
LBC
Ducking the trend.
St, James Parked under a heavy sky. Smoke was billowing out of a Buck house chimney – had the Pope died? I walked round the lake and saw with my own eyes families of ducks dipping for supper. There was a veil of damp rain it was quite literally water off a ducks back. My … Read more
Number 11 and still counting
Getting from here to Leicester Square is turning into a delightful game. The puzzle of London where all roads seem to lead to and from home.
All buses get me near to the Square and all tubes are mere moments away from somewhere.
This morning I set off early, having meditated and researched the programme, the weather was satisfactorily mild and the light perfect for an energetic stroll
A day at the Office.
Th Italian caff on the corner of Leicester Square is like being on the continent.
The waitresses are ever so slightly surly, the waitors musically inclined, the paying customers mostly foreign and the big portions of food are served up on big white plates.
Wherever you sit there is a big window to look out of.
The Hippodrome, or Wyndhams Theatre, or The Spotlight offices – for the actors don’t you know – Leicester Square itself. It really feels like you’re a tourist.
This morning Steve Allen and I shared a table.
He had a bagel and Earl grey tea.
I had baked beans, scrambled egg – with a tomato and sprig of parsley garnish, and a cup of coffee.
Cold Comfort
The cold air is winding its way around my calves.
I’ve put the washing on, Jim’s jacket smells of bonfires and has grass stains all over it.
I found one sock still stuck in my boot. How annoying is that?
I watched so many films over the weekend I don’t know whether I am in Berlin or 1978.
I went to see ‘Avenue Q’ tonight – its sweet. American voices, puppets and smoochy transatlantic music. The girl next to me spread over two seats and her crutch got in the way. It was a grey, metal standard NHS one.
I had a cup of soup with the agent and after the theatre set off to the end of end of term party in a a big bar.
The noise.
The small black dresses.
The booze.
The youth.
I came, I went, I squandered…. too much of my time.
It’s 23.54 and I need to get into bed before I completely freeze, the wind has now whipped up to my thighs.
The Knightsbridge Route
I walked to Knightsbridge.
Very fast. My orange and black scarf tied tightly and all I needed in the pocket of my feau fur jacket.
I walked over Battersea Bridge, the sharp morning light clear and silver, down Beaufort Street past the strange little Catholic Church. Left onto the Kings Road, past the Bluebird Caff, Heales, Habitat, endless silly dress shops when a number 19 drove past me but I resisted.
Right down past Peter Jones and left down Sloane Street. Gucci, Chanel, Armani, ridiculous prices for boots, shoes and real fur coats. Another 19 came along to taunt me.
My nose was cold but the rest of me was toasty warm.
By the time I got to Knightsbride I was thinking I might be late for my own imposed deadline – as it turned out all was well.
Down onto the tube and I arrived in Leicester Square bang on. The whole trip had taken just under an hour. Three routes in three days. I’ll do another one tomorrow.
Party, party, party
I watched the video today of me on the first ever broadcast from Leicester Square.
I’m not being funny but when I saw it I nearly threw in the towel. Now that I have a face for radio I think I had better keep it that way.
If I had known they were bringing in the cameras I would have worn a bra, combed my hair, tightened my chin and trowled a bit of slap on.
Still, it’s there in all its raw glory. Do watch it if only to howl in horror at what appears before you.
Tuesday Breaking News Day
Dear Hymie, Marmite and all the rest of you well wishers, I took your good will with me to Leicester Square.
The 170 bus arrived late so I started off the day with a freezing cold nose.
The tube to Oxford Circus was comfortably full, and the walk from there to Leicester Square was bracing.
Imran and Harry, on the reception are delightful.
I was taken to level 3, plonked in front of a computer, spilt some water over my newspapers and ate a ton of fruit that had been sent in as a christmas gift…
Last Day in Latimer
Eddie Izzard started his show with very loud music and lights trained on to the audience. It was very exciting. He started at 8.15, took a small break, then continued until 10.45, or maybe even later.
I cant remember one thing he said but he was rivetting. There was some very funny stuff about giraffes and cows stomachs.
He is very:
Charismatic.
Quick witted
A male.
He may occasionally wear a dress but he thinks like a feller, and I should know I live with one.
Thursday came and went.
Yesterday exhausted me. One day off and I get all rusty. I managed a 30 minute run this morning. Up to the Buddah and back. The trees shedding the last of their leaves. I nearly caught a big crispy sycamore leaf, heard my self moan when it flew into my hands and out again. I’m … Read more