As I was lying on my chaise-not-very-lounge, TV remote control in hand, risking a repetitive thumb injury while trying to find something that didn’t insult my intelligence –and my intelligence takes very little to be insulted – I suddenly wondered how people managed in the 1950s when there was just one channel – the BBC.
ITV didn’t arrive in Wales until 1956, a whole year after the rest of the UK.
Both channels closed down at 11pm every night, which sounds positively archaic today.
But it does explain why cinema-going was still very popular in the 50s and 60s, especially with young couples eager to get away from their parents for a few hours.
Film studios, realising TV would eventually become more popular, especially when colour arrived, went all out to make blockbuster movies to be shown on enormous wide screens that 12” black and white tellies couldn’t compete with.
Aside from the ‘sword and sandal’ epics which thrilled millions of movie goers worldwide, musicals were also popular. In particular, “South Pacific” did more business than “Ben-Hur” in London’s West End, where it ran at the Dominion (now a theatre) from 1958 until 1963!
The poor projectionist, had to show the same film twice daily Monday to Saturday and once on Sundays . . . for five years! I don’t suppose his evenings were enchanted.
A cinema record was also set at Cardiff’s 3000-seater Capitol Cinema/Theatre (now sadly demolished) when “The Sound Of Music” ran there from 1965 to 1967. One lady went to watch every performance! After the first year, the management kindly allowed her in for free.
I stress what I’m about to tell you is an unconfirmed rumour from 50 years ago, but apparently, listening to happy nuns and children singing the same songs every day for two years, affected one Capitol cinema employee so badly, he ate a magic mushroom and was found “High on a hill”.
I’m not sure how many weeks he was locked up for . . . “Sixteen, going on seventeen”.
And as he was sent down, he waved and said, “So long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen! Adieu!”

In a world dominated by deadlines, stress, and never-ending to-do lists, it is easy to overlook the significance of having hobbies.
Yes, my dear readers, hobbies – those delightful activities that offer us an escape from the daily grind and bring a smile to our faces.
Now, I must confess, my own hobby is the fine art of procrastination.
I have mastered the skill.
I can spend hours rearranging my sock drawer or meticulously alphabetising my DVD collection. But let’s not dwell on my expertise in that area.
Instead, let us focus on hobbies that are both productive and enjoyable.
Having a hobby is like possessing a secret superpower.
It allows you to transcend the mundane and immerse yourself in a world where you can become a rock star, a culinary genius, or even a professional cat whisperer (if that’s your cup of tea).
It’s an opportunity to unleash your creativity, indulge in your passions, and uncover hidden talents you didn’t know you possessed.
Just imagine the sheer delight of witnessing your friends’ jaws drop as you unveil your homemade masterpiece – a crocheted toaster-cosy, shaped like a miniature Eiffel Tower.
Or the sheer satisfaction of perfecting a recipe for chocolate-covered bacon – a delicacy that is sure to impress at any dinner party (or at the very least, raise some eyebrows).
Moreover, hobbies serve as fantastic conversation starters.
Forget discussing the weather or the latest celebrity gossip; picture yourself regaling your colleagues with tales of your daring adventures in underwater basket weaving or your relentless pursuit of becoming the world’s greatest thumb wrestler.
So, my friends, let us not underestimate the importance of having hobbies. They bring forth laughter, joy, and a much-needed respite from the monotony of everyday life.
Who knows, your hobby might just lead you down a path of new opportunities – or, at the very least, equip you with some killer party tricks. Happy hobbying!

People who describe someone as ‘A Cheeky Chappie” probably have no idea it was comedian Max Miller (1894-1963) who was first given that title.
Considered the greatest comedian of his generation, his ‘cheeky’ material, (innocuous by today’s standards), endeared him to his fans, one of whom, Roy Hudd, described him as “The Pure Gold Of The Music Hall”.
Max developed a conspiratorial style in which he held up a white joke book and blue one.
With a twinkle in his eye, he’d tell his audience the white book contained clean jokes, the blue one ‘naughty’ jokes.
He’d reveal that the theatre manager, who’d warned him not to use the blue book, had popped out to the ‘pub.
Max would then glance into the wings to ‘check’ – before asking the audience which book they’d like him to use.
Take a wild guess!
He never swore or told dirty jokes on stage, instead preferring double-entendres. Or he’d leave out a word at the end of a gag. When the audience laughed, he’d jokingly say “It’s people like you who give me a bad name!”
I’m smiling as I remember the brilliantly worded double entendre that allegedly caused the BBC to ban him.
You’ll find it with a little research.
Max said of himself, “There’ll never be another!” And that’s also true of Tommy Cooper.
April the 15th was the 40th anniversary of Tommy’s death, during the ITV Sunday night show “Live From Her Majesty’s” hosted by Jimmy Tarbuck.
Tommy’s demise in front of millions of viewers has been chronicled in TV documentaries and newspaper articles.
I once related the memories of a comedy writer friend who witnessed the event from the wings of the theatre.
He still vividly recalls that night – from the running order of comedian Adrian Walsh; The Flying Pickets’; Tommy Cooper; Les Dennis & Dustin Gee; Howard Keel; and Donny Osmond and The Brian Rogers Dancers – to the chaos backstage when Tommy collapsed.
But he finds it hard to comprehend it happened four decades ago!
Max and Tommy are irreplaceable – but let’s be grateful they brought laughter to an often-cruel old world. Pure gold indeed!

Don’t get your hopes up!
It’s such a rollercoaster in Wales when it comes to waking up in the morning. One day, the sun is shining, the birds are serenading us, and the daffodils are proudly showing off. It’s like a scene from a Disney film.
But hold on to your thermal vests because the next week, you’ll be defrosting your car and dodging the gritter lorry like a ninja. And don’t even get me started on the free, one-sided facial exfoliation you get from the council’s grit!
Oh, and let’s talk about the cosmic conspiracy between the weather and recycling.
It never fails that on the evening I put out my paper and plastic recycling, the wind decides to have a wild party.
I swear, everyone on the street must think I’m auditioning for a comedy sketch as I sprint after my blue bags, just like Benny Hill chasing after a row of scantily clad ladies through the park.
Times have definitely changed, though. Benny Hill wouldn’t stand a chance these days!
But hey, Spring is here and things are looking up.
Let’s hope for a bit more peace and understanding in the coming months.
As my grandad used to say, “You’ve got to pick your battles.” And, trust me, he knew what he was talking about. That’s probably why he was dishonourably discharged from the Army!

So, picture this: I never, in a million years, thought that I would be writing a regular column for this fancy publication.
I mean, seriously, who would have thought that a stand-up comedian like me could fill a whole page with informative and funny content week after week?
It’s like asking a squirrel to do ballet!
But, hey, someone out there saw something in me and decided to give me a shot.
And let me tell you, this mysterious person is keeping their identity hush-hush.
I guess they have a reputation to uphold and a posse of influential friends to protect. Can’t blame ’em for that, can we?
When I first started writing for this paper, it was a leap of faith for both me and my anonymous benefactor.
As a comedian, I’m used to expressing all sorts of wild thoughts and opinions on stage.
But putting them down on paper every week, even when I’m sipping margaritas on a beach somewhere, is a whole different ball game.
I had to learn on the job, my friends.
And let me tell you, it wasn’t always a smooth ride.
Sometimes the words flowed effortlessly, especially when there was some juicy news story to sink my teeth into.
But most weeks, I found myself wrestling with the words, rewriting and tweaking until I felt like a sculptor chipping away at a block of stone.
You know, that sculptor who said, “I keep chipping away until all that’s left is a horse.”
Well, that’s me, except, instead of a horse, it’s a well-crafted column.
But here’s the thing, folks. Every time someone from the community approaches me and says they enjoy reading my ramblings, it reminds me of the true value of local newspapers in this digital age.
It makes me feel like I’m part of something bigger, like I’m making a tiny dent in the universe.
And let me tell you, I plan on chipping away at that stone every week, for as long as they’ll let me, because these readers are my people.
And together, we’re going to keep this paper rocking!
Thanks for reading.

When you’re a comedian, nervously standing in the wings, trying to remember your first gag (and the one after that!), you don’t want to be distracted by the compere/club secretary mangling your introduction.
It’s happened to me.
“Please welcome a young comedian making his first appearance here. Put your hands together for . . . Bill Evans!”
I learned quickly it’s useless (and humiliating) shouting out, “Excuse me! It’s Phil Evans!” because the compere won’t hear you, even over half-hearted applause.
So, before I introduce a comedian or speakers, I always ensure they’re happy with what I’ll be saying.
Singer Ronnie Hilton was a big TV and recording star in the 1950s, but like many ‘crooners’, his career faltered with the arrival of ‘beat groups’ in the early 60s. However, he had a hit with “Windmill In Old Amsterdam” in 1965, worked in cabaret and social clubs and had a show on BBC Radio 2.
Later in his career, he took a booking at a social club in the south Wales valleys, for not a lot of money, where the ‘seen it all before’ club secretary asked him “How d’yer want to be introduced?”
Ronnie replied, as he must have many times before, “He’s had five No1 records. And appeared on three Royal Variety Performances. This man has done it all!”
The club secretary, bursting to show he wasn’t impressed by such achievements, asked, cockily, “So, what you doin’ h’yer, then?”
Ronnie’s reply isn’t on record.
But I’ve got a good idea what I would have said.
When Jimmy Tarbuck hosted “Sunday Night At The London Palladium”, after he’d quickly changed into a Musketeer’s costume during a commercial break, in readiness for a comedy sketch, he was told the sketch had been dropped because the show was over-running.
So, he had to introduce the top of the bill while dressed, for no apparent reason, as The One Musketeer!
Flustered, young Tarby forgot the name of the star, so said, “Please welcome a lady who needs no introduction!”
After the show, the lady in question (Petula Clark) said, “Jimmy. That was the loveliest introduction I’ve ever had!”

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?