I’m very often stumped for ideas a day or so before I sit down at my steam-driven PC to write something that hopefully entertains, amuses or provokes you into looking at a particular subject from a slightly different angle than you did a couple of minutes before you read my ramblings.
Because the funny men and women who inhabit the comedy sphere, look at everyday things and events from a slightly skewed angle to find the comedic element.
That’s how comedy routines, comedy films, comic novels and even the jokes you see/read on the net are created.
Conversely, when they see or hear about people being unfairly put down, brow-beaten and oppressed by the so-called ‘Great and the Good’, the absolute best, sharp-witted comedy performers and writers can puncture the preening, posturing, pomposity of those who look down on the majority of the population.
This they do through ridicule (which isn’t too hard) or satire (which can be much more effective and leave longer-lasting marks, but is much harder to accomplish well).
Which all has very little to do with what I wanted to talk about.
Looking back through my old articles, I see that one of the early ones complained about the proliferation of pesky potholes everywhere and the damage they did to our motor vehicles.
I pleaded with the Highways Department, local government officials, civil servants, the Welsh Assembly Government and even the PM.
This was so long ago it may have been Harold Wilson.
Thank goodness those in authority listened and something was done about it.
Now, all these years later, we no longer have a problem with potholes, do we?  Are you kidding me?
Elon Musk’s Space X rocket is in better shape than our roads.
I’m not one to exaggerate for comic effect, but there’s been a pothole in our street for more than a year and it’s now so deep that when I accidentally dropped a 50 pence coin down it this week, in order to retrieve it I had to borrow two extendable ladders, a miner’s lamp and a canary.
I’m telling you this hole is SO deep, I swear I can hear people down there talking with Australian accents.
Look, I usually avoid getting political, but car owners, self-employed tradespeople, hauliers and, in fact, everyone who drives on our roads, pay for the upkeep or roads through general and national taxation.
And we’re not getting our money’s worth!
Why do we take it lying down when there are so many other people willing to take to the streets to complain about pressing issues?
To make it clear, I am not saying I agree with their methods.
Potholes can cause serious damage to our cars. Fact!
Yet all we do about is moan, “Something must be done!”
We need a leader, a figurehead, a champion who will lead the march on the Senedd. Well, be honest, Westminster is a bit of a trek and the weather’s looking a bit iffy.
Our champion must demand that every pothole is repaired . . . fast!
Do you agree?
Great!
Let me know how you get on…

How we see ourselves and how others perceive us can be poles apart.
This is something that I have had challenges with over the years and I’m sure many of you can also relate to.
This isn’t new, I’m sure, as many conversations have, over time, highlighted the fact that communication often breaks down when we fail to see or consider everyone’s point of view.
Society has conditioned us to have an opinion, to often become outspoken and to challenge authority.
This approach can lack empathy, compassion and good old fashion manners, which is something often witnessed in public, in our towns and cities. We now see such shenanigans on our roads and motorways – it’s known as ‘Road Rage’. Sound familiar?
One of my loyal social media followers from a far away land wrote last week – “I often read your columns. I think what you write about is valid everywhere. You see life with open eyes = inspiration.”
Seeing myself as ‘inspiring’ was not how I perceived myself in this column, as my aim has always been to add colour, bring a smile and the odd chuckle to the loyal readers and followers.
Therefore, it just goes to show that my view may be perceived differently by others.  Lesson learned.

I’ve never claimed to be ahead of the curve, but last week I managed it – albeit accidentally – when I gave you my thoughts on the increase in drunken, selfish behaviour of audience members who insist on singing along with musical theatre performers, thereby spoiling the show for the majority.
Well, would you Adam and Eve it?
Just hours after I’d sent it to my esteemed editor (I’d tell you his name but in all the years I’ve worked for this paper he’s refused to tell me) I saw an item on the news that exemplified exactly what I’d written about.
A ‘mini-riot’ had broken out at Manchester’s Palace Theatre when a sloshed female audience member possessing the musical tones of a rhinoceros giving birth to triplets, stood up and joined in with the ballad “I Will Always Love You” during a Good Friday performance of the musical “The Bodyguard”.
The lady and another woman were ejected and the curtain brought down before the finale ended.
You’ve probably read about it or viewed the phone camera footage and wondered, like me, why certain people think the normal rules regarding how people are expected to behave in public don’t apply to them.
I was genuinely surprised by the number of people on various TV news programmes who attempted to justify unruly audience behaviour and couldn’t understand ‘What all the fuss was about’.
Hey ho! It’s us against them, folks!
Now to the business of the day . . .
When comedian Jim Moir (who was previously known as Vic Reeves) recently admitted that he hasn’t spoken to his former comedy partner Bob Mortimer for quite some time and they’re not great mates, a lot of people were surprised.
Which surprised me!
Because the history of comedy double acts is littered with resentments and rivalries, barneys and break-ups.
There are exceptions.
That Laurel and Hardy were good friends comes across on screen – which is not to sat they didn’t have the occasional argument like all work colleagues do.
Eric and Ernie respected each other professionally, but rarely socialised.
Eric had his fishing and his football club, while Ernie had other interests.
Until they became good mates again, Cannon and Ball fell out for a few years, which made working together very difficult.
Which reminds me of something I was told about Ryan and Ronnie.
They fell out to such an extent that during a long summer season, Ronnie would walk into their dressing room before a show, find Ryan reading his newspaper, they’d exchange nods, speak to each other only on stage and after the show they’d go their separate ways.
Putting an end to their enormously successful film career, Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis split up in 1956, 10 years to the day after they first joined forces.
Jerry once said, “I write all our routines. Work out our choreography. Constantly rehearse. And Dean…plays golf”.
It took them 20 years to be friends again.
Remember those terrible winters back in the 1970s?
You remember Mike and Bernie!
I’m jesting.
They were a very slick, popular double act, but they too fell out in later years and Bernie started a new double act…with a gigantic St. Bernard dog named Schnorbitz!
Bernie daren’t fall out with her – or she’d eat him!

Isn’t this time of year uplifting?
It’s much easier to wake up in the morning when the sun is streaming through the window and the birds are singing.
Having said that, it’s not easy getting a good night’s sleep in a strange bed.
This week’s column comes to you from a hotel room a long way from home.
Life on the road is far from glamorous.
Last night, the maid in my hotel room just turned my bed down. She’s not the first woman to do that either!
Traveling and being away from home has become a way of life, but modern technology has helped in such a way that staying in touch with family and friends is easier than ever.
I regularly Skype call my Cocker Spaniel when I’m away.
How times have changed over the past 20 years . . .
Think about it, we didn’t have all this technology back then.
It was so much harder to stay in touch.
Or was this a good thing?
Did we talk more face to face?
Technology may be moving on, but things are far from perfect.
The traffic in our towns and cities remain a battleground and seem to be getting worse.
Swansea, Llanelli and even Ammanford have turned into a war zone recently and there are many frustrated drivers, including myself, close to breaking point.
I remember my grandad always used to say, “You’ve got to pick your battles.”
Which is why he was dishonourably discharged from the Army.

Whatever happened to ‘polite audience applause’?
In fact – whatever happened to polite audiences?
Several things prompted me to raise the subject, so see if any or all of them ring a bell of recognition in your head.
I’m aware how difficult, expensive and often heart-breaking it is to create a new stage musical. Sometimes you hit the jackpot (Les Miserables, Phantom, Cats), sometimes you hit the rocks (anyone remember Simon Cowell’s ‘I Can Sing’ or ‘From Here To Eternity’?).
Which is why so many musicals of the last couple of decades have been based on ‘known product’ (The Lion King, Legally Blonde, Pretty Woman, Frozen etc.) or are ‘jukebox musicals’ packed with songs the audience already knows.
This latter trend has led to a lot of audience members treating an evening at the theatre like a karaoke night at their local… at £150 a ticket.
They turn up worse the wear for drink, have another in the theatre bar before the curtain goes up andduring the intermission.
They insist on joining in every song and/or dancing in the aisle, which understandably annoys the more sober members of the audience who paid the same price for their tickets as the selfish ones who mistakenly consider themselves ‘part of the show’.
This leads to confrontation and unbelievably – according to a recent survey by The Stage newspaper – audience members and staff being physically assaulted on hundreds of occasions. This is, of course, totally unacceptable and has to be urgently addressed and stopped.
Over two recent weekends I watched two very different ‘live’ performance music shows on BBC television – one very new; one more than 40 years old.
And the reaction of the audience in each show was remarkably different.
On Saturday, March the 27th, BBC One broadcast a show entitled “The Big Night Of Musicals” from a huge venue in Manchester, hosted by the amiable and very able Jason Manford.
As you might expect from the title, the show featured performances from various West End shows.
What I found both interesting and irritating was that immediately each song started, the audience were up on their feet, ‘whoopin’ and a-hollerin’, applauding wildly and/or singing along.
Any audience member unable to stand up or thought it might be sensible to hold their applause until the song had finished, wouldn’t have been able to see what was happening on stage.
I have to admit that after 20 minutes of this ludicrously over-enthusiastic reaction to every song, I switched channels.
We all know where this behaviour started.
On TV shows like “X Factor” and “Britain’s Got Talent” audience members are, before and during the show, actively encouraged to go wild the moment a contestant (A) Proves they can sing in tune and (B) Can manage a mid-power ballad key change – however wobbly!
People growing up watching this behaviour think it’s the norm, which is why this selfish phenomenon has spread to theatres and other venues.
The following weekend, BBC 2 screened the 1970 concert “Frank Sinatra At The Royal Albert Hall” hosted by Princess Grace of Monaco.
Old Blue Eyes’ arrival on stage was, I admit, greeted by cheers and loud applause.
But then the audience settled down and after each superbly sung, brilliantly orchestrated number ended, they applauded politely.
Towards the end of the show, as the audience recognised the opening bars of “My Way” they reacted with cheers, then let Frank do the heavy lifting with the vocals, not daring to spoil the magic by joining in.
I was once told that theatre seats are traditionally red, because it drains the anger out of the audience before the performance.
If someone created theatre seats that drained the alcohol out of an audience along with their self-indulgent behaviour, I would greet the news with…what else…? Polite applause!

Well – I’m glad Easter is over; there is only so much chocolate one can eat.
Safely!
Personally, I didn’t have any Easter eggs, but everywhere I went there were chocolate eggs for sale.
For the record, I’ve picked a few up today at a fraction of the price they were last week.
It was worth the wait.
Don’t judge me on this.
We all like a bargain from time to time.
We all have our funny ways and if we were all ‘perfect’ or the same, life would be so flipping boring, and I wouldn’t have anything to write about every week.
In fact, you would probably see me sitting in a coffee shop somewhere, staring into my cup.
Can you imagine?
We should all embrace and celebrate our differences.
Many of the greatest people in history often didn’t fit in.
Yet not fitting in turned out to be a huge asset for them.
They possibly didn’t know this at the time, but by being true to themselves and applying a good work ethic, they stood out and greatness was achieved.
Maybe this is something we could all think about?

April Fool’s Day came and went without any memorable ‘side-splittingly hilarious’ made-up stories appearing in the press or on TV.
That made me wonder if other than family members playing pranks on each other (“Kids! Come and see what the dog’s done in your porridge!”) April Fool’s Day has become redundant.

Not since the classic ‘Spaghetti tree harvest’ prank that was played on BBC viewers of the early evening magazine programme “Tonight” (imagine ‘The One Show” with ‘A’ levels) back in the 1950s, I doubt anyone has been taken in by an April Fool’s story on the box or in print.

It’s odd that people try and make others laugh on one day a year. Because someone who wants to learn to play the piano or violin doesn’t just ‘have a bash’ at becoming a virtuoso once every 12 months then leave it.

Without getting too po-faced about it, comedy is a skill that has to be learned over time, yet there are people outside of the comedy world who think every weak joke they crack is hilarious and if you don’t laugh as loud as they think you should they accuse you of lacking a sense of humour.
These people are what’s known as ‘The life and soul of the party’ and are to be avoided.
As are people who think they’re superior to professional comedy folk and take delight in ‘putting them in their place’.

Bob Monkhouse used to tell the story about being at a party when an obnoxious fellow guest approached him and said in a not-very-friendly tone “I understand you’re a comedian. Tell me a joke”, to which Bob countered, “I understand you’re a gynaecologist. Come and have a look at the wife!”

I have a comedy writer friend who, having been in the business for 40 years plus, has developed a thick skin – even though he moisturises daily.
He’s had friends and relatives bluntly say things to him about shows he’s written that he wouldn’t for one second think of saying to them about their profession. He shrugs it off these days – but remembers every incident.
They’ll be sorry when his will is read out . . .

Some time ago, while he was staying overnight at his brother’s house, his sister-in-law (a rather ‘bohemian’ college lecturer) asked my friend – in a half-interested manner – what he was working on.
When he mentioned the name of a popular, long-running Saturday night entertainment series which attracted around 10 million viewers every week, the lady sniffed and said, believing she was being brilliantly witty,“It’s crap though, isn’t it?”
What was he to say?
“If that is what I write, they probably wouldn’t be paying me £1000 a week”?
No. Smugness isn’t in his make-up. He just uses a light blusher.
He looked across at what appeared to be a week’s worth of ignored dirty plates, cups and cutlery piled high in the sink and said drily, but without malice, “Well, it pays me enough to afford the occasional bottle of washing-up liquid”.
But the lady was so eager to give her opinions on previous TV shows he’d written, she didn’t have the good manners to acknowledge his barbed comment.
That was some years ago and she’s now his ex-sister-in-law.
He doesn’t know who had custody of the washing-up.

When writing this particular item for the paper, I have to admit that I wasn’t feeling my usual self.  We all get off days where it feels very difficult to be positive and upbeat all of the time.
But when these niggling doubts creep in, I accept the fact it’s OK not to feel happy all day every day, then take time to reflect on the things that I should be grateful for and often take for granted.
For a start, I woke up this morning, I could see out of the bedroom window and I could breathe in fresh air.

Some days, we need to invest in self care to continue to be able to help others.

Having access to news and social media 24 hours a day can have quite a negative effect on our mental health, making it hard to switch off.

Being close to people who make us feel good, cwtshes and groups of people laughing together is sometimes all the therapy that we need.

Put that phone down, turn the laptop off, switch off the TV and enjoy the people around you.  Self care isn’t a luxury my friends, it’s essential.