I’ve always been fascinated by the way stage magicians present their tricks and illusions with such confidence and panache.

Until I knew better, I thought ‘panache’ was the grey dust under the grate in the fireplace that had to be cleaned out every morning.

Have you ever heard anyone say, “I’m a bit of an amateur magician?”  No. Well you have now!  I’m a bit of an amateur magician.

And I think there’s a link between a trick performed by a magician and a joke told by a comedian.  They both have to be set up in such a way that, when the magician’s ‘reveal’ or the comedian’s ‘punchline’ is delivered, it gets the appropriate audience reaction.

Their reaction to a comedian’s joke shouldn’t be the same as their reaction to a magician’s sleight of hand because a comedian doesn’t want, just after he’d told his best joke, his audience turning to each other, muttering “How did he do that?”, looking baffled.

I do realise stage magicians tend to divide people. Especially when they have a saw in their hand.

Which leads me neatly into telling you that Sunday, January the 17th, marked the 100th anniversary of the very first time a magician performed the “Sawing A Lady In Half” trick onstage.

Magician P.T. Selbit (his real surname was Tibbles!) who created the trick, first performed it at the Finsbury Park Empire and caused a sensation.  He accidentally cut through his leather belt and his trousers fell down.

No he didn’t. That was a cheap joke.  If you want better ones, send me money.

After that, wherever he sawed a lady in half, to heighten audience anticipation, an ambulance waited outside the theatre. It was needed when he used fake blood in the act, as audience members would often faint.  Which only helped enhance his reputation.

An amateur magician had attempted the trick before Selbit and failed, due to his technique.  Foolishly, he started at the lady’s head and sawed down through her middle to her feet, rather than across her tummy.  Of course, he only did it the once…

As a young lad, I was brought up in the days where everybody in the street on which you lived knew everyone else.

I am sure many of you reading this column can remember this time very well.  The good old days.

However, times have changed and, unfortunately, there are so many of us today that don’t know who lives on the street, or, in some cases, even who lives next door!

Lockdown has made that even worse as we all stay inside to wait for the pandemic to pass.

Bring back the days when you would pop next door to borrow a cup of sugar or your neighbour would pop in to share their copy of the local paper when they’d finished it.

My grandmother would always make the effort to check on her neighbours and get to know anyone new who moved into the street.  If she were still around today, they’d nickname her “Google”.

Keeping in touch with those around you was second nature.  Do you think this is something that could happen again once lockdown is lifted?

Wouldn’t it be lovely to see this sense of community make a welcome return?

Publicising his new TV series about the 1980s Aids epidemic, talented television writer/producer Russell T. Davies announced “Only gay actors should play gay characters otherwise it’s not authentic!”

Does that mean only murderers should play murderers or a real wizard should play Harry Potter?

When someone gets shot in a film or falls of a high building, should they really die?

Because that would be ‘authentic’ wouldn’t it?

RTD brought “Doctor Who” back to TV – whether that was a good thing is the subject of another article – so if he used the TARDIS to go back into cinema history, he’d find that . . .

Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger played gay cowboys in “Brokeback Mountain”.

Judi Dench played a teacher attracted to another woman in “Notes From A Scandal”.

Tom Hanks deservedly won an Oscar for playing a gay man with Aids in “Philadelphia”.

Michael Douglas won an Emmy for playing Liberace in “Behind The Candelabra”.

The Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation praised Robin Williams performance as a gay man in “The Birdcage” for ‘Going against the stereotypes and showing the character’s depth and humanity’.

All those actors were straight.

On the other hand, if tough, romantic heroes should only be played by straight men, half of the romantic comedies and action pictures of the 1950s and 60s would never have been made.

‘Confirmed bachelors’ – a euphemism used by the press of the time – like Rock Hudson, Tab Hunter and Raymond Burr played straight characters all through their careers.

An exception was Dirk Bogarde who played a gay lawyer in “Victim” (1961) but never ‘came out’ in his personal life, even though he resided in France with a male partner for years.

RTD also said “You wouldn’t cast an able-bodied person to play a character in a wheelchair!”.  If that’s true, how did Daniel Day Lewis win the 1989 Best Actor Oscar for his convincing portrayal of Christy Brown, who was only able to control his left foot due to cerebral palsy in “My Left Foot”?

You see, Russell, actors pretend to be cowboys or Indians.  Heroes or villains.  Gay or straight.  It’s called ‘Acting’!

If he was alive today, he’d be in a hell of a state!

Will you be raising a toast for Burns Night?

I have to confess that until I did my research, I thought Burns Night was an episode of Casualty.

Casualty has been running for more than 30 years.  A mate of mine does walk-on parts and he’s played ‘Man lying on trolley’ since it first started.  The way things are with the NHS these days, a patient lying on a trolley for more than 30 years isn’t unusual . . .

Burns Night celebrates the birth of Scotland’s greatest poet – Robbie Burns, born in 1759.  That’s more than 250 years ago.  Just think, if he was alive today . . . he’d be in a hell of a state!

It may come as a surprise to you that Robbie Burns died at the age of 37.
It certainly came as a surprise to him!

Robbie Burns had three great loves in his life – Haggis, whiskey and women!

He over-indulged in all three and they eventually did him in.  The constant diet of haggis wore out his digestive system.  The non-stop drinking wore out his liver.  And his bedroom antics eventually wore out his . . . . appetite for haggis and whiskey!

Burns suppers have been part of Scottish life for 200 years.  ‘Burnt suppers’ have been part of my life since the first time I came home late from the pub.  Men never learn, do they?

IN 1919, the three biggest stars in Hollywood – Charlie Chaplin, Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks – formed, with director D.W. Griffith, their own film company called United Artists.  When Richard A. Rowan, head of Metro Pictures, heard the news, he famously commented…

“The inmates have taken over the asylum!”

Here’s proof that it’s just as true today.  A recent BBC2 screening of the 1971 film “Dads Army”, a spin-off from the long-running TV series, was preceded by the warning ‘Contains discriminatory language that some might find offensive’.

This film did the cinema rounds at least twice before it made its television debut, since when it’s been shown dozens of times.

But until Christmas, 2020, neither cinemagoers nor TV viewers needed to be ‘warned’ before they settled down to watch 90 minutes of military mayhem and madcap manoeuvres.

When “Dad’s Army” fans complained about this over-sensitive ‘warning’, the BBC’s response was…

“Since the film was made, attitudes have changed significantly and guidance was given due to a specific discriminatory remark”.

This was presumably a reference to Corporal Jones’s description of the formidable Hadendoa warriors (whose bravery Rudyard Kipling wrote about in his Barrack Room Ballads) he faced in the Sudan campaign more than 100 years ago.

Corporal Jones uses this term in almost every TV episode at some point, yet the BBC has never bothered to ‘warn’ us about this since they started filling their Saturday night schedules with repeats of “Dads Army” 52 weeks of the year!

Which makes the ‘warning’ about the film all the more puzzling.

Then, last week on a lunch-time TV chat show, a highly ‘woke’ lady was given a chunk of airtime to defend the BBC’s warning about the “Dad’s Army” film.  Everyone’s entitled to their opinion.

But then she shot herself in the foot by declaring “Dads Army” wasn’t funny and she preferred ‘quality’ shows…like “The Masked Singer!”

Not only have the inmates taken over…some of them appear to have escaped!

I’d just like to add that IMHO every TV screening of the 2016 “Dad’s Army” film should be preceded by this warning…

“May offend fans of great comedy!”

Have they been after you yet?

Over the past week I’ve been bombarded with summer holiday offers and special deals at a rate of three a day.  This is no exaggeration.

My email inbox, Facebook account and Twitter feeds seem to be coming up with fascinating offers to tempt me, from both the big household names to some I’m sure have just been set up in someone’s front room, such as Gr8 Holidays 4 U and Flyjetsunbargains R Us.

In all fairness to them, they are putting their sales and marketing machines to good use and offering deals and destinations that are extremely tempting.  However, I do detect an element of desperation in their urgency at this time.

What are the chances of these holidays actually going ahead in the current pandemic – and even more worrying, what are the chances of getting your money back quickly in the event that they cancel?

I think I’m getting more cynical with age, or am I just wising up?

As I write, the weather is cold and damp with more rain on the way and the thought of a walk along the beach in a warm and sunnier climate is quite appealing as I apply my Deep Heat to my aching joints.

I know we are all desperate for lockdown to end and to have a holiday to look forward to – let me know what you think.

One afternoon during the festive period, after I’d been sitting in front of my TV set for more than an hour, trying to come up with three good reasons why I should plug it in, switch it on and actually watch something, my mind began to wander and strange new thoughts drifted around inside my head.

While a wandering mind full of strange thoughts might be unhelpful if you’re a heart surgeon or an HGV driver carrying a couple of nuclear weapons on the back of your lorry, for anyone in the comedy trade it can be very useful.

Because, if you’re lucky, from those jumbled ideas, you might find one that inspires a brand-new routine.

And so it came to pass…

Earlier that day I’d heard a song on the radio by Jennifer Lopez and the broadcaster had referred to her by the name her fans prefer – J Lo.

Perhaps they’re so exhausted after dancing to her songs they haven’t the energy left to speak her full name. “Jen…nif…! Oh I give up!”

Hours later, in front of my silent TV, the thought came to me that in the pop business it’s not uncommon for performers to have unconventional names like Sting, Shaggy, Seal and Slash.  And, from the moment they first burst onto the scene, the public accept that’s what they call themselves… after the laughter’s died down.

But if, in our everyday lives, we worked with someone who suddenly announced they wanted to be addressed as Stormzy or Fish or Prince, it might lead to some awkward moments…after the laughter’s died down.

If it was Ms Lopez’s idea to reduce her name to what could be the chemical symbol for jelly, it’s an indulgence that should only happen in the pop world.

Because if everybody dropped a handful of letters from their names, think of the consequences….

Bradley Walsh might become BRA Wash.

Piers Morgan might become PIE Man. Very appropriate, given his size.

Katherine Jenkins might become KAT Kins.

Carol Vorderman might become CAVE Man.

On reflection, maybe I should have switched the telly on that afternoon.

See you next week.

PHI Lipa

So, the Christmas decorations are all down and safely stored away.  When you think about it, Christmas is just a cardboard box in the attic now!

By the end of this week, it is most likely that I would have broken at least three of my New Year resolutions – and probably four of the Ten Commandments.

Why is it we head into January full of good intentions, yet find it so hard to stick to our goals?

On the 31st December I filled the fridge with salad and ironed my running vest.  By the 2nd January, I’m sitting in my kitchen, writing this column while sampling some freshly baked goodies from ‘Has Beanz’ my local coffee shop.  At least I lasted one more day than last year.

For many, January is the time of year when we feel in ‘limbo’.  The fun and excitement is over and the harsh reality of paying for an elaborate Christmas hits home.

There’s one question I always ask myself during the Christmas period: Whatever happened to soap on a rope?

Click bait really annoys me.  Who said “Don’t most things?”?

Click Bait shouldn’t be confused with Chick Bait which describes me in my speedos when I parade up and down the white sandy beaches of exotic destinations like Barmouth and Rhyl.

Click Bait is the on-line equivalent of the old fairground barker standing outside his tent, enticing potential customers with spiel like “Come inside folks and see the strangest, scariest things your eyes will ever behold!”

The first time I was unsuspectingly taken-in by Click Bait was an online news story about an Australian woman who’d found a huge spider in her house. It was accompanied by what I thought was a genuine photograph of a spider so enormous it couldn’t get through the Channel Tunnel, let alone the front door of a farmhouse in Wagga Wagga.

And before you say anything, I am aware that Australia is notorious for spiders that enter the house through the toilet. Readers, the one in the ‘photo was so big it would have needed a JCB to enable it to pop up through anyone’s loo.

Had I known then about Click Bait I’d have ignored it, but even though my subconscious was telling me there are no spiders in the world as big as a National Express coach, curiosity got the better of me.

When I clicked on the article I was disappointed to find that the magnified spider in the ‘photo had no connection with the spider in the article.

But it was too late. I’d taken the bait.

Current click bait includes intriguing photos accompanying headlines like “When the photographer took this picture, he had no idea what was hiding in the background” or “A fireman took these rescued puppies home only to find they were something quite different”.

My iron willpower and complete disdain for click bait prevents me from falling for these come-ons. I can quite happily carry on my life without knowing what the photographer missed seeing when he took the picture.

Although…if you did take the bait and clicked on the other story…exactly what did those puppies turn out to be?

Creativity can be such a blessing and even a curse at times.

For as long as I can remember, I have always carried around a little black book, solely for the purpose of writing things down.  Well, what else would you use it for?

Things that pop in my head from time to time such as shopping list reminders, ideas that need to be worked on, funny things I see whilst out and about and often things that I overhear in conversation.

Often if I don’t write them down, they are forgotten and disappear into the ether, to be lost forever.  Which has happened on many occasions, therefore the little black book is so important.

Throughout the house I probably have no fewer than 60 such books.  I even have one on the bedside table as good ideas have a habit of popping into my head just before I fall off to sleep.

The only thing is – I wish I had better handwriting, as often I write so fast it’s not always easy to work out what I have written and that causes a great deal of frustration.

This exercise can be a great source of pleasure and entertainment in years to come as looking back will often churn up colourful memories.

But then – nostalgia is not what it used to be is it?