6

No Business like Show Business

Scots love to meet the famous – and if the famous can tell a story against themselves, then so much the better.

 

GOOD to see Scottish women being explained to Americans. Paisley-born film star Gerard Butler was on a late-night chat show in the States when he explained: “You can’t get away with much in Scotland.” He said he was in a bar back in Scotland when a woman who had been staring over at him came over and said: “You know, I know your face from the telly – but I’m not gonna tell you that, because it’s going to give you a big ******* head!” Host Seth Meyers asked: “Is that Scottish flirting?”

 

INTERESTING musing from comedian Kate Robbins, who appeared at Glasgow’s King’s Theatre not so long ago in the show Fifty Shades of Beige. Said Kate: “A few years ago I met Princess Anne at a charity event. In the pre-show line-up she asked me what I did. I said, ‘I’m an impressionist,’ to which she replied, ‘Do you have an exhibition on anywhere?’”

 

ALL this sobering commemoration of the 20th anniversary of the death of Diana, Princess of Wales reminds Tim Malseed of a story involving a friend of his. The friend’s gran phoned very early in the morning, telling him urgently: “Quick, put your television on. Something has happened to Diana in Paris – she’s been chased into a tunnel by Pavarotti on a scooter.”

 

GOOD to see Glasgow-born songwriter Bill Martin of “Congratulations” fame going on stage at the Edinburgh Fringe to talk about his career. Gordon Wright tells us that Bill confided that he had met Stones’ singer Mick Jagger recently and commented on the number of wrinkles on his face. “They’re laughter lines,” replied Mick.

“Nothing’s that funny,” said Bill.

 

GLASGOW’S Susan Calman was all dolled up yesterday for a red-carpet appearance by this year’s Strictly Come Dancing contestants. As she later commented on her chances of winning, the diminutive comedian said: “To do well on Strictly I may need to be more ‘tabloid’. [Coughs] In 1991 I was late returning Puppet Master to Azad Video. I paid the fine.”

 

OUR tales of bands remind Billy Sinclair: “When Glasgow was European City of Culture in 1990, I was in the reception of the media centre in St Enoch Square when Deacon Blue came in for a press call. No matter who you were, you couldn’t get past reception without signing in.

“The receptionist asked for their name and Ricky Ross told her, ‘Deacon Blue,’ which she wrote down. But as the band went past her she called them back, saying, ‘I’ve got Deacon’s name,’ pointing at Ricky, ‘but I need aw youse names before you can go through.’”

 

 

GLASGOW-BORN author Ryan O’Neill, now living in Australia, has been shortlisted for the Australian book award, the Miles Franklin Award, for his irreverent book taking the mickey out of Aussie culture, Their Brilliant Careers. It seems the old phrase about “you can take the boy out of Glasgow” is true, as Ryan tells us: “I’ve been in Australia about 13 years, but as Australians never tire of telling me, I still have my Glaswegian accent.

“In a shop the assistant asked me, ‘Anything else?’ and I said, ‘No thanks, that’s all.’ After we walked out, my friend who was with me said in a shocked voice, ‘Why did you call him an asshole?’”

 

THE news that the BBC is to pay £850,000 in costs to Sir Cliff Richard after he sued them in a privacy case reminds us of the yarn our late lamented editor Arnold Kemp told of the Scotsman’s extremely erudite drama critic Charles Graves once being sent to review a Cliff concert in Edinburgh. The disgruntled Graves devoted most of the review to the jugglers who were the warm-up act, making many scholarly references to the history of their art. He mentioned Cliff only in the final paragraph, which was chopped off in the composing room to make the review fit the space, leaving confused readers the next day wondering why Cliff Richard never actually featured in a review of his show.

 

AS TV comedy series Dad’s Army celebrates its 50th anniversary, surviving cast member Ian Lavender, who played Private Pike, ruefully revealed in the Radio Times that when he did a one-man show he would bring out the scarf that Pike frequently wore on the series and explained: “The scarf got a round of applause. I have to work an hour just to get a round of applause, but I just bring the scarf out and it gets one straightaway.”

 

CULTURES collide, it seems, as folk head to Edinburgh for the Festival. The Rev. Richard Coles, one-time Strictly dancer, giving talks at the Fringe, explained yesterday: “Tremendous entertainment on the train to Edinburgh as someone who isn’t, but could be, Gwyneth Paltrow, requires to know the provenance and vegan credentials of the tea being briskly served by the Geordie LNER ladies.”

And self-styled bubbleologist Louis Pearl, who has impressed audiences for years at the Fringe with his gravity-defying bubble tricks, tells us he recently had a lad about nine up on stage who volunteered to be put in a bubble. Having a chat with him, Louis saw the boy’s arm was in a cast and asked what had happened. “A dog bit it,” said the youngster. Trying for a laugh, Louis then asked: “What happened to the dog?” Instead of smiling, the boy said with a straight face: “He got castrated.”

 

FORMER singer-turned-minister Richard Coles was indeed a popular figure on the last season of Strictly Come Dancing, although his style was more wooden than the pews in his church. He was recounting at the weekend that he went to visit his mother in hospital and a nurse on the ward said: “Mrs Coles, is this your famous son, the Strictly vicar?” His mother merely replied: “Yes, but he was awful, so no need to fuss.”

 

JOHN Cleese is in America publicising his rather underwhelming TV series, Hold the Sunset. We liked his reply when he was asked by our sister paper USA Today where his humour came from. Cleese replied: “It comes from a little man in Cardiff. He’s just wonderfully funny. I read the postcards and do pretty much what he tells me. He told me recently they’re not his ideas. He gets his ideas from a lady in Swindon who refuses to say where she gets her ideas.”

 

THE Radio Times is asking folk to vote for their favourite television crime drama, with STV’s Taggart in the shortlist. We remember a reader watching an episode of Taggart in France. It still had the original spoken English but with French subtitles. Our reader noticed that when Taggart, the late, great Mark McManus, unwrapped a fish supper, scowled and shouted: “Where’s ma pickled onion?” the translator admitted defeat and merely put him saying on the screen: “Bon appétit.”

 

DEALING with hecklers. New York stand-up Mark Normand says he was interrupted the other night by an audience member who shouted: “You’re white, what do you know about racism?” Mark’s sharp response was: “Are you kidding? We invented it.”

 

LOTS of folk enjoyed the royal wedding, although there were a few eyebrows raised at Prince Harry being made the Earl of Dumbarton. As Stephen McGowan commented: “Being made the Earl of Dumbarton as a wedding present? I’d take the toaster.” And council cutbacks in local services led to Alan McGinley stating: “I live in West Dunbartonshire and the fact that Harry is now Earl of Dumbarton has unleashed a fury of expectation among the locals that the bloomin’ grass might actually get cut.”

 

MEETING someone famous, continued. Amongst the original line-up of the Rolling Stones was Scottish blues pianist Ian Stewart. Reader David Corstorphine tells us: “In the early sixties my granny and her sister, my great-aunt Phemie, worked at one of the knitwear factories in Cellardyke. One day, four young men or, as Phemie recalled, ‘long-haired Nellies’, arrived at the front desk, where Phemie was stationed. The men wanted in to speak to the lassies, but Phemie refused them entry. ‘Do you know who we are?’ asked the blond one.

“Phemie told him, ‘Ah’m no’ carin’ whoa ye are, yer no’ gettin in tae spaik tae the lassies an’ disturb their work!’ At that point, management arrived and apologised to the Rolling Stones, who were in the village to meet founding member Ian Stewart’s aunt Helen and had agreed to visit the factory. I don’t think Phemie ever appreciated how famous these long-haired Nellies would become, nor that she spoke so forcibly to Charlie Watts, Keith Richards, Ian Stewart and the late Brian Jones.”

 

 

GOOD to see the Chic Murray play at Òran Mór this week, A Funny Place for a Window, getting a five-star review by Herald critic Mary Brennan. Chic is played by Dave Anderson, who actually lived a few doors away from Chic in the West End. Dave once told me he was standing outside his house one night when Chic walked past, obviously heading to the pub for a quick one before they closed.

Chic, though, caught Dave’s eye and told him: “Just out walking the dog.” The thing was, Chic didn’t have a dog. But to enhance his tale, every few yards he would stop and whistle on his imaginary mutt to catch up with him.

 

OUR story yesterday, about when the great Scots comedian Chic Murray lived in Glasgow’s West End and couldn’t stop making jokes when he bumped into people, reminded a reader of actor Finlay Welsh once saying that he bumped into Chic on Byres Road and they stopped for a chat.

At the end Chic asked: “Oh, by the way, Finlay, when we met just now, was I coming down Byres Road or was I going up?”

“Well, as I’m on my way up to the BBC to do a voiceover, you must have been coming down,” replied Finlay.

“Oh, that’s good,” said Chic, “I’ll have had my lunch then.”

 

IT can happen to the best, it seems. Harry Potter writer JK Rowling told her fans on social media yesterday: “The great thing about editing is how you get to look back on the triumphant moment after your 19th readthough when you you were sure yuo’d caugth all the the typoes, and hat yourself for beng such a stupid, smug barstard.”

 

AND while folk were not bothered about the royal baby, the idea of folk camping outside the hospital where the baby was born surprised one or two people. As the social-media site of Irish bookmakers Paddy Power put it: “Some folk have been waiting outside a hospital for 15 days for a baby they have no connection with. I can’t be bothered waiting three minutes for my microwave meal to cook properly. Two minutes will do; lukewarm is fine.”

 

OUR toilet tales cannot pass without at least one mention of these complicated train toilets.

As broadcaster Gyles Brandreth once related after a visit to Yorkshire: “I was outside the WC, pressed the button, the door opened and a poor sod inside turned frantically towards me, unable to staunch his flow. As he waved his arms in alarm, his spray went everywhere. ‘Shut the door!’ he cried as his trousers fell to his ankles. Then I pressed the button on the outside just as he pressed the button on the inside, so the closing door reopened – that’s when he slipped.”

 

OUR mention of the book being launched about sixties Glasgow group The Beatstalkers reminds a reader of when the band was booked to play at the Dennistoun Palais but couldn’t appear as they had gone to a London recording studio to make a record. Instead, cardboard cut-outs of the band were put on the stage. After the support act The Bo-Weevils had performed, a phone on the stage rang and the Palais manager went over and answered it, and it was The Beatstalkers phoning from London. The crowd was screaming with delight.

Our old chum Eddie Tobin, then manager of The Bo-Weevils, later said: “I presume they were paid an enormous fee for not appearing and we did all the work and got buttons.”

 

NEVER knew so many readers had bumped into the legendary Chic Murray. Says musical Roy Gullane: “An erstwhile band member had met Chic and jokingly invited him to his stag night. The great man very graciously accepted the invitation. We spotted him waiting at the bar and our groom-to-be approached him with a hearty, ‘Chic. Chic. We’re over here.’ The great man turned towards us and without batting an eye began to shout through the crowded bar, ‘Where were you with the fast car? I was standing there like an idiot with the money!’”

 

CLYDEBANK stand-up Kevin Bridges has passed his driving test – 12 years after taking his first lesson. To be fair, his career got busy so he left driving for a bit. It reminds us of The Herald reader in America who told us: “When I moved to New Orleans in 1980, I drove to the test centre with my UK licence. Being August, it was 98 degrees Fahrenheit with 98 per cent humidity. The tester, being at least 25 stone, suggested I go out to my car, back it out of the parking space and drive it into the one next to it while she looked out the window of the air-conditioned office. And so I passed.”

 

ACTRESS Julie Walters has been spotted at the Silverburn shopping centre filming for her role as the mother of a Scottish country and western star. We well remember when Julie spoke at a Herald book event and explained that she originally trained as a nurse before acting but never felt entirely comfortable in the job.

This was brought home to her on night duty on a coronary ward when a heart monitor emitted a piercing note. Before she could react, a medical student started pummelling the heart of the patient – a large Irish chap who sat up with a start and abruptly punched the medical student’s lights out. It was then they discovered that the lead attached to him had accidentally come adrift.

 

TALKING of Alexa, a Glasgow reader swears he asked, while hosting a Boxing Day party that was going on too long: “Alexa, send everyone home.” He claims the electronic device then played a Sydney Devine recording.

 

AMONG the movies out for Christmas is a remake of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express. John Henderson recalls an interview with Richard Goodwin, producer of the 1974 original, and many say better, version of the film in which he said the only problem he could recall dealing with so many stars in the one film was Vanessa Redgrave, then a member of the Workers Revolutionary Party, trying to convert the canteen workers and making political speeches at lunchtime. Eventually, he said, the canteen staff marched on management to demand that Vanessa was sent to talk to someone else.

 

OUR story about comedian Ken Dodd turning 90 reminds David Miller of Ken’s gig at the Glasgow Pavilion this summer. Says David: “He told the audience how he woke up one morning with an attractive lady lying beside him. ‘Have you been there all night?’ he asked. ‘Go back to sleep and finish your dream,’ she replied.”

 

 

RADIO 1 is 50 years old tomorrow. Scottish boxing legend Ken Buchanan recalled in his autobiography flying back to Edinburgh after retaining his world title in America. Hundreds of well-wishers in tartan were waiting to welcome home the hero.

The pilot announced passengers were to disembark quickly as there were important people on board who were to leave last. After the plane emptied Buchanan looked round and saw Radio 1 DJ Ed “Stewpot” Stewart still sitting there. Ed looked out the window and said: “My first visit to Edinburgh and look at the reception!” The pilot came back and explained who the actual VIP was.

 

A READER wonders if the statue of Nelson Mandela proposed for Glasgow will get the ultimate Glasgow accolade of a traffic cone on top of it. The strangest story we ever heard about the Duke of Wellington statue in Glasgow with the traffic cone was when Princess Diana’s “love rat”, to give him his tabloid sobriquet, James Hewitt was appearing in a BBC Scotland chat show with disgraced PR boss Max Clifford. Both men went for a drink afterwards and Hewitt suddenly clambered up the Wellington statue, knocked off the traffic cone and shouted down: “I won’t see a national hero vilified.” A strange cove indeed.

 

MEMORABLE audience reaction, continued. Says Sue Forsyth in Bearsden: “Gerard Kelly, the late, much-loved silly boy of panto, was the star of Iain Heggie’s serious one-hander King of Scotland at the Citizens, where the language was coarse to say the least, but entirely in context. An elderly couple in front of us had obviously never seen Gerard out of panto mode, and they constantly tutted loudly until the lady eventually said out loud, ‘Aw son – there’s nae need fur that kinda language.’

“They appeared pleased when the Citizens staff asked them to leave.”

 

BUMPED into playwright Peter McDougall at Òran Mór’s annual Whisky Awards, where he tells me that he is writing a play about his hospital visits after a stroke, entitled Vampire Clinic – it’s to do with all the blood samples they take – which is being staged as part of the venue’s A Play, A Pie and A Pint series. Says Peter: “I remember talking to Willie McIlvanney once about his stroke and the side effects of taking Warfarin. Willie, being the great wordsmith that he was, described it as ‘the physical manifestation of boils’. I’m no’ the wordsmith Willie was as I just describe it as a rash.”

Incidentally, Peter, looking very well, was not partaking of whisky at the awards night. As he put it: “I know people swear by whisky for a convivial discourse with friends, but I’m from Greenock – whisky tends to affect folk from there differently.”

 

YES, congratulations to the royal couple of course. But as Simon Holland put it: “Wife shouts through, ‘Kate had her baby!’ I reply, ‘That’s cool. Tell her I said congrats.’ And then I sit there thinking that I didn’t know we knew anyone called Kate.” Many people were happy with the news, others not so much. As a reader emails us: “Do you know, it’s been quite nice to watch the news and be irritated by something other than Donald Trump or Brexit for a few hours. A change really is as good as a rest.”

 

CHANCE meetings with famous folk, continued. Says David Knight: “Forty odd years ago my pal’s dad, a member of the R&A, was entering the Clubhouse at St Andrews.

“He observed the uniformed club porter stiffly address a plus-fours-attired American and overheard the immortal sentence, ‘Ah dinnae care if yer name’s Bing Crosby, ye cannae come in the clubhoose!’

“Anxious to demonstrate Scottish hospitality, our man signed said crooner in and bought him a pint.”

 

FULL marks to reader Jim Scott, though, who has managed to combine the royal wedding and our recent stories about comedian Chic Murray. Says Jim: “The news that Harry has been bestowed the title Earl of Dumbarton reminds me of the Chic Murray comment, ‘A man said to me if you sit here you can see Dumbarton Rock. I sat there all day and it never moved an inch.’”

 

WE asked for your tales of meeting famous folk, and retired Daily Record journalist Jim Davis recalls that he was once sent to a charity golf event at Renfrew to interview volatile racing driver James Hunt. Says Jim: “The Record had got phone calls from readers complaining about Hunt wearing grubby jeans and a T-shirt, with one describing him as, ‘lookin’ as if he’s jist fell oot a midden. The weans ur getting a right bad example set here, so they urr.’

“Hunt was in the bar beside an immaculate Sean Connery, Henry Cooper and Dickie Henderson. I got out, ‘Mr Hunt, our Daily Record readers are complaining that your appearance is downright scruffy. And they say you’re setting a bad example to the kids. What’s your response?’ His memorable reply in a cut-glass accent was, ‘You can tell your readers that they are confusing me with someone who actually gives a ****.’”

 

SINGER Mica Paris is to star in a new production of the musical Fame at Glasgow’s King’s Theatre at the end of July. We remember when Mica had her first hit “My One Temptation” and was appearing at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre. She later said: “I was 18 and just starting out. The Glasgow audiences were kind to me, though. One guy, a big, burly, macho Scotsman, came backstage at the end of that Tron show in tears, he’d been so moved by the music. Drying his eyes, he politely asked for an autograph, but made me promise not to mention to anyone that he’d been ‘greetin’ like a big wean’.”

 

BBC reporter Tina Daheley went all sniffy about popular culture by declaring on social media: “A reminder that more people applied for the TV programme Love Island this year than Oxford/Cambridge University.”

Someone promptly replied: “A reminder that it doesn’t cost 28 grand to go on Love Island.”

 

WE asked about telling folk what you do for a living, and writer and actor Stuart Hepburn tells us: “I was once approached by a rather well-oiled guest at a family wedding who enquired, ‘So what do you do?’ I answered, ‘I am an actor,’ and he said, ‘Yes, but what do you do for a living?’”

 

TODAY’S piece of daftness comes from a reader who asks: “How many Countdown contestants does it take to change a BLIHBULGT?”