I did intend to write about UK politics, but I couldn’t find an interesting or controversial ‘hook’ to hang an article on.

Everything around Downing Street and Parliament is so stable right now.
Instead, I’d like to bring up a subject that tends to divide my readers into two camps.

Halloween.

One lot say, “We agree with you wholeheartedly, Phil. You really cut to the chase, got to the nub of the matter and skewered the subject! Yes. I will have another large port and lemon, thanks. But six is definitely my limit”.

The other bunch tend to say, “What’s the matter, Phil? Lose a fiver and find 10 pence?”

Cards on the table.

Halloween is an over-hyped, commercialised excuse for children to knock on doors, begging for sweets while dressed as scary creatures like vampires, ghouls, werewolves and Mark Drakeford in that suit he bought on the weekly from Burtons The Tailor in 1967.

The little uns love Halloween, thanks to films and TV shows from across the pond, where Halloween is one of the biggest dates in the calendar. Of course, they don’t celebrate Whit Monday, do they?

But I’ve never understood why every year, parents buy Halloween costumes for their children that may not fit them the following year, so they have to be replaced.  That’s the costumes – not the children!

In 2022, when everyone’s worried about mortgages; energy costs; rent, food and fuel price increases – a time when food banks are struggling to find supplies for families who can’t afford a weekly supermarket shop – I find it astonishing that people still contemplate buying costumes, masks, confectionery and all the other not-always-cheap-but-often-cheerless stuff associated with October 31st.

And although we‘re all aware of the environmental damage that single-use plastic causes,  mountains of plastic  pumpkins will get thrown out next week.

I’d like to think a certain percentage will be recycled. But, not being a gambling man, I wouldn’t bet on it.

If you’re ‘celebrating’ Halloween, I trust you have a safe, enjoyable time.
Personally, I’ll be at home with the curtains drawn and the lights out – and not just to save money on my electricity bill!

No pun intended . . . but people have funny ideas about what it’s like to be a comedian.

If I’m introduced to someone in this way . . . “Meet Phil. He’s a comedian”, nine times out of 10 the person I’m being introduced to will say, “Tell us a joke!”.

This request to instantly demonstrate what I do for a living never happens with any other profession.

If I was introduced as an architect, I wouldn’t be expected to whip out my pen and design a kitchen extension on the back of a napkin.

And if I was introduced as a proctologist, no one would drop their trousers and say, “I wonder if you’d take a look at this . . . ”  Because stand-up comedy is everywhere these days (on TV, radio, You Tube and everywhere else) some individuals incorrectly think they’re just as funny as ‘That bloke I saw on the telly last night’.

However, they won’t put their head above the parapet by writing jokes, creating a little act and doing open mic nights in comedy clubs before spending years learning their craft.

No.

They find it much easier to become hecklers.

I’ve only one piece of advice for hecklers.

Even if the two pints of lager you’ve consumed convince you that you’re the funniest person in the room, think carefully before you interrupt a comedian’s performance.

You may have your mates on your side.  The comedian has the greater advantage. He has the microphone!

As for heckler ‘put-downs’, there are many strong ones I can’t repeat here, but I prefer the subtler ones.

For example, when a drunk heckles me and the only laughs he/she gets are nervous little ones from their equally drunk mates, I give it a moment, look at them and say . . .  “Comedy’s hard…isn’t it?”
Hearing the rest of the audience react with laughter and applause, hecklers usually keep quiet after that.

If they don’t, I have an arsenal of those strong ‘put-downs’ I can’t mention . . .
Well, I could mention, but I’m told the editor of this newspaper would prefer not to be landed with a court case . . .

With the recent death of Angela Lansbury we’ve lost one of the last remaining performers from the ‘Golden Age Of Hollywood’.

But due to endless repeats of “Murder She Wrote”, many people only thought of her as Jessica Fletcher, the crime-solving mystery writer and didn’t realise the British-born actress was a huge Broadway star for decades.

She won a load of Tony Awards and was regarded as a brilliant interpreter of the sometimes-complex work of Stephen Sondheim.

She made her first film in 1944, was nominated for an Oscar in 1962’s “The Manchurian Candidate” and will be seen in her final film role this Christmas in “Glass Onion: Knives Out 2” with Daniel Craig.  Just think about that! Her film career spanned almost 80 years!
Let’s hope Harry Styles does half as well!

Many of the people she co-starred with are now remembered only by serious film buffs, yet she remained a star at the time of her death, just five days before her 97th birthday. Which made me wonder why it is some performers have longevity and others fall by the wayside.
And why anyone would want to enter a profession offering no job security or guarantees of success, regardless of how talented you are or how hard you work – and can break your heart with crushing disappointment and painful rejection.

Perhaps people believe the lyrics of Irving Berlin’s song…

“There’s no business, like show business.
There’s no business I know.
Everything about it is appealing.
Everything the traffic will allow.
Nowhere could you get the happy feeling
When you are stealing that extra bow”.

I’d counter that highly-romanticised view of showbusiness  – which only applies to those who’ve made it to the top – with these more cynical (truthful?) lyrics by Noel Coward…

“Don’t put your daughter on the stage, Mrs. Worthington!
Don’t put your daughter on the stage.
The profession is over-crowded
The struggle’s pretty tough.
And admitting the fact she’s burning to act
Isn’t quite enough!”

He wrote that 90 years ago and it’s as relevant today.  No wonder they called him ‘The Master’!
RIP Ms Lansbury.  You are now solving the greatest mystery of all.

Every week I get a chance to share a bit of me with you, which at times can be both challenging and colourful, yet a privilege for me in many ways.  Here we are more than halfway through October and I’ve heard a rumour this week that the Tories are holding a bonfire night party next month.  They’re all going to have sparklers, but they’re hoping to give Liz Truss the rocket!

Browsing the newspapers this week, it seems we are bombarded with doom and gloom from one source or another 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
And surveys.  Apparently, Brits are now the most surveyed people in the world.  According to a recent survey, that is!

Well, maybe your reasoning is different to mine, but research suggests that we are addicted to gossip and negative news.  I’ve said it before and will now say it again, wouldn’t it be great if all news reports had to be happy, upbeat and uplifting?  I can guarantee the mood of the nation would change for the better. I love the fact that as part of my job people share events and stories with me.  Some of the best material comes from true stories, maybe with a bit of an added comedic twist.  Long may it continue!

Most evenings – when I thumb through the TV schedules to see what viewing ‘delights’ are on offer – I do realise there are ‘prestige’ shows that prove the exception to the rule.

Most programmes appear to be aimed at people happy to slump in front of the telly after a hard day’s work and want to watch anything remotely interesting.  While I like the occasional crime drama/who-dun-it, some of the newer creations are built around detectives who are ‘troubled’ by a tragic incident in their past or have a ‘quirk’ which is supposed to make them interesting, but actually makes them irritating.

Brenda Blethyn’s Vera solves crimes by staring at suspects with a quizzical expression, while sporting a battered old hat that appears to be welded to her head.  At the end of each episode of Ridley, Adrian Dunbar’s ex-copper sits down at the piano (in the jazz club he part-owns!) and commits crimes against music by singing.

John Simm’s Brighton-based copper Grace consults a medium each week to contact his deceased wife. Big question here: Is she really dead?
And I haven’t mentioned Tom Burke’s Strike, the one-legged private eye based in a top-floor office that lacks a lift.

But! When I remembered nostalgically how ‘normal’ the tough crime fighters were in the TV shows I grew up watching, I realised they were even ‘quirkier’ than today’s lot.

William Conrad’s overweight Frank Cannon brought criminals to justice by sitting on them until they passed out.  Longstreet, played by James Franciscus, was a private eye unhampered by his blindness.  Raymond Burr played a wheelchair-bound detective conveniently called ‘Ironside’.

Simon MacCorkindale’s Manimal solved crimes by turning into various members of the animal kingdom.  Jim Rockford couldn’t run because of a gammy leg, which I assume actor James Garner injured when jumping out of that moving train with Donald Pleasence in “The Great Escape”.

Peter Falk’s Columbo solved crimes by staring at suspects with a quizzical expression, while sporting a battered old raincoat that appeared to be welded to his body.
As for good old Dixon Of Dock Green, Jack Warner was still playing the cockney copper at 80 and suffering so badly from arthritis in his legs he used bee-sting treatment to relieve the pain.   Mind how you go!

Guess what, according to a nationwide survey of 2000 couples, are the biggest contributions to a happy relationship over many years.

Go on – have a guess.  You’ve obviously got nothing more important to do if you’re reading this.

Some of the answers that couples gave were surprising, well at least to me.
Like “Knowing each other’s PIN numbers”.  I mean, come on.
I’m all for committing to a relationship 150% – but there have to be sensible limits!

Many ladies said that regular kisses and cuddles – or cwtshes as we say around these parts – play an important part.  And, as long as they don’t involve the milkman, I’m all for that.  Many couples stick to the old adage, “Never go to sleep on an argument”.
So have I . . . since the night we had a tiff . . .  She went to sleep on an argument – and I went to sleep on a sofa.

It’s also important to be able to openly and calmly discuss potential disagreements before they start to silently fester over many weeks, eventually exploding into a full-blown argument that ends up with crockery being thrown, your favourite shirt being attacked by scissors and the front door slamming as she goes off to her mother’s, vowing never ever to return, “Even if you got down on your one good knee and begged me to come back!”
Am I speaking from experience?  Certainly not!  That was all hypothetical.
Besides which, my knee’s much better now.

Other secrets of happy relationships are having no secrets from each other (apart from your PIN number!) and being diplomatic. i.e. when your good lady asks you if her bum looks big in her new skinny jeans, it’s best not to reply, “Can you define ‘big’?”

One fifth of the couples surveyed said it’s important to have two television sets – in different rooms obviously, otherwise it would definitely lead to arguments. I disagree.
In our house there’s just one TV and one person in charge of the remote control.  Always.  Although, if I ask her nicely, she’ll hand it over occasionally….

It’s said that multi-millionaire Aristotle Onassis wasn’t a contented man, despite all his wealth and the bonus of being married to the beautiful Jackie O, the lady who’d once been Jackie K.  It could be hearsay (see how careful I’m being here?) but it’s alleged that when Aristotle reached adulthood and realised that at five-foot five he’d never grow to be a towering six-footer, he was very unhappy.

To be honest, 5’ 5” doesn’t seem particularly short to me, but old A.O. was so self-conscious about it, when he began earning big money and could basically buy whatever he liked, he hired a personal shoemaker who, over the years, created hundreds of hand-made, beautifully crafted formal shoes, sandals, deck shoes and trainers for him. all of which featured a secret. Height-enhancers!

Each individual item of footwear added as much as three and a half inches to Ari’s five-foot five, allowing him to walk tall amongst his business colleagues and the rich and the famous with whom he and Mrs O used to hob-nob. Other biscuits are available – but they’re not so effective as dunkers.

Inevitably, Ari’s secret leaked-out and whenever his business rivals saw him approaching, they’d apparently whisper … “Beware of Greeks wearing lifts”.

I was reminded of this story when I read an article last week about men who were so miserable about being short, they willingly underwent painful surgery to have their legs extended. This is absolutely true!

So, if you’re eating right now, I’d advise you to stop for a moment.

The surgery involves the patient having both legs broken – I told you to put down that sausage sandwich! – so that metal rods can be fitted inside each leg, while on the outside, more rods are fitted which have screws attached that are turned to stretch the legs as they heal over the months of recuperation.
That’s a very basic description of the procedure, which can cost up to $100,000 in America.

While it’d be much cheaper and less painful just to shove some old newspaper inside your shoes, pull your shoulders back and give the illusion of being taller, I wonder if they’ll start to do it on the NHS?
Just asking for a friend….

It’s a bit chilly outside, so I want to know… have you turned your heating on yet?

I did and was met with a few gurgles, a hissing noise, then silence.
Complete silence from the boiler and absolutely no heat whatsoever.
Luckily, I have boiler cover with a well-known supplier and here is where the fun started.

I’m on hold, after being greeted by a jolly voice thanking me for calling and reassuring me someone will answer my call shortly as my call is very important.  It’s obviously not that important, as 20 minutes later I’m still waiting.  I can now sing the hold music off by heart, I know what the jolly voice is going to say and when she is going to say it, but . . .  I’ve gone passed the point of hanging up!

You’ve all been there!

You should have hung up after five minutes, but you didn’t!

Here you are, 20 minutes in and you have reached the stage where there is no going back!

Now, it doesn’t matter if you have to wait three hours, there is no way you can take that phone away from your ear!

Some 40 minutes later, a voice, a real voice, thanking me for waiting.
In the excitement, I dropped my phone and cut them off.  We’ve now been five days with no heating . . .

Whether it’s Frank Sinatra’s version of “Without a song the day would never end” or the Beach Boys “Add Some Music To Your Day”, the message is clear. Music is good for the soul. And for comedy, too.

Because without music there’d be no musician jokes, like these…
What’s the definition of perfect pitch? Throwing an accordion into a skip without touching the sides!

An intrepid explorer searches for a mythical lost temple through thick jungle foliage, accompanied by his archaeologist friend and the ominous sound of distant drums.
Pausing to mop his brow, the explorer says to his friend, “Will those damn drums never stop?” To which his friend replies, “While we can hear them, we’re safe. It’s what happens after they stop, we have to worry about!”
When the explorer asks “What does happen after the drums stop?” his friend replies, solemnly … “A long bass solo!”

My favourite musician joke concerns a Guitar Vocalist named Terry who hasn’t gigged for months and is in dire financial trouble. Out of the blue, he’s offered a gig at a Cardiff hotel for £200, which he jumps at even though it won’t make a big dent in his debts.
After he finishes his act, a middle-aged American gent walks up to him, shakes his hand and says “That was just wonderful buddy. My names Hiram T Turpentine, I’m bringing my family over to spend New Year at the London Dorchester and I’d like to book you as the cabaret. I’ll arrange a room for you and your wife, pay your travel expenses and give you £10,000 in cash.”
Terry is delighted and turns up at the Dorchester on December 31st with his guitar, amp and microphone stand.
He performs brilliantly for Hiram and his entire family, singing songs old and new. Afterwards Hiram says “Wow! Your version of “Yesterday” brought me and the missus to tears. You were so great I’m gonna give you another thousand pounds bonus and I wanna book you right now for next New Year for £20,000! Will ya do it?”
Terry says “Yes. On one condition” and when Hiram says, “Name it!” Terry replies, “Can I leave my gear here?”

Each and every day, I make time to write and have to admit that this can be a challenging experience.

If I’m not writing jokes, editing a script or tuning ideas for this newspaper column, I’m adding to my list of corporate and conference talks for a future event.  Doing this exercise on a daily basis works the old grey matter and ensures my writing skills don’t get rusty.,

When researching subjects, I often turn to the news pages online, which can be a great source of material.  Unfortunately, most of the time (well, nearly all of the time) the news is full of negative and shocking stories from home and around the world.

Rarely do we see happy, uplifting headlines.

That wouldn’t sell, would it?

I’m all for freedom of speech and the free exchange of information, but the level of shock news reporting we are exposed to is bound to have a detrimental effect on our moods and outlook on life.

It is also clearly evident that children are also exposed to this negativity at such a young age, it can’t possibly help to create a healthy and positive outlook.

I would welcome more good news or even a ‘Good News Channel’.
Is it any wonder that we now live in a society where mental illness and depression is at an uncontrollable level?