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Plenty on Wikipedia and on IMDd.  Those two websites are great for the date and place of birth, as well as listing the TV, films, stage and radio I've worked on.  What they don't do is describe what it was like working on those productions, alongside the wonderful and sometimes not-so-wonderful personalities involved. They also don't divulge the highs and lows of over 50 years of marriage, bringing up three kids as well as emerging grandchildren. If you're interested, Learning My Lines (my autobiography), Echoes (my first novel) are for sale through my website, as is an archive of my blogs from 2009-2013.

Saturday, 20 December 2014

PROCEDURES!

In the supermarket I was bashed into by two trollies. This panic Christmas buying is frying people’s brains
I eventually reached the check out carrying my ‘Bag for Life’.
‘Would you a like a bag, sir?‘ the assistant said sweetly.
I pointed to my bag. ‘I’ve got one thanks. Didn’t you see it?’
‘Yes. But we have to ask. Sorry.’
So bruised (I think) and confused by the inane rules that the checkout people have to follow, I went home..

I had three ‘down the line’ interviews to do at the BBC (thanks, Sam). Catching a tube at 8.00 in the morning is a nightmarish experience. Brunel was a genius but even he couldn’t imagined what his precious underground system has turned into. The Elm Tree Police would have a field day, packed in so tight, each carriage should have a vicar conducting marriage ceremonies. By the look on the majority of the faces in my carriage had definitely consummated their marriage rights before the vicar had even opened the good book.

At the BBC I had to deliver a copy of Lies to Robert Elms at BBC Radio London before the interview with him on the 30th of December. I went to the desk with the envelope.
‘No, you’ll have to take them to the Delivery area just down the road.‘ I go there but I couldn’t see how I could get in. Fortunately a bloke was there who told me which button I had to press.
Inside, it was a bleak place with an unattended cubby hole. There was a man waiting with a multitude of parcels. The attendant arrived, mumbled something and the parcel man moved off.
‘For Robert Elms.‘ I said, offering him my envelope. He pointed somewhere vague where there were parcels piled high. ‘Put it there?‘ I said.
‘No.‘ he said irritably. ‘On the rollers.’
I see the rollers and put it there. Nothing happens. I take it back to the morose man. ‘Okay?’
‘No. On the other rollers.‘ I thought he was going punch me in the face.
The other rollers started moving through a covered tunnel and then emerged on the other side. I took it back. He stamped it and took my envelope away.
Outside, I thought what was that all about? Alright bombs but it was my book for Robert Elms, who on earth would want to blow him sky high?

Two books to be delivered for Steve Wright show for my interview on the 9th of January. BBC Radio 2, much easier. I speak to the receptionist, she makes a phone call and down comes John Dutton and takes them. So much simpler.
The three interviews done I get on the tube. No, I can’t do anything about the BBC’s procedures but what about supermarkets?
How about traffic lights at the end of each aisle. Mini roundabouts? I’m sure there have been accidents in these places, not fatal but certainly not good for the reputation of these establishments.


Anyway, Happy Christmas to all you ‘bruised’ shoppers.