“There’s no business like show business”, according to the song.
But a recent newspaper report I read revealed that for many industry professionals, right now, there appears to be no business at all.
You might find that hard to believe when, day after day, so many people referred to (rightly or wrongly) as ‘celebrities’ appear on breakfast, daytime and evening TV, enthusiastically promoting their latest TV show/film/CD/West End stage play or tour.
And there’s undoubtedly a certain lucky coterie of well-known performers who never seem to be out of work, flitting, it would appear, from one job to the next with barely time to take a long weekend break on Gower.
However, the hard truth is, at any one time, 90% of actors registered with their union, Equity, are out of work. Read that again: 90%!
And, while actors may get all the attention, in any film or TV production there are many other people involved behind the scenes, from directors, producers and writers, to carpenters, electricians and drivers.
The report I read mentioned that there is so little work in TV drama at the moment, producers and directors, with decades of experience bringing award-winning series to our screens, have had to take jobs as car park attendants, supermarket shelf stackers and in pubs, in order to pay the bills.
They’ve been unemployed for so long, the savings they put away for a rainy day have been washed away by continuous downpours.
A producer of a beloved sitcom hasn’t worked for 15 months and said the number of unemployed film and TV workers could fill a stadium.
What’s been described as an ‘existential crisis’ was caused partly by Covid, partly by the 2023 Writers Guild Of America strike, which held up many productions due to come to British studios.
It’s also because viewing habits have changed since Covid, with many younger people choosing to watch short videos on their phones rather than settle down to watch full-length drama episodes on TV.
So, remember, next time someone is directing you to a parking space, their previous job might have been directing Game Of Thrones.

Ah, pet hates! Those little annoyances that can turn a perfectly good day into a grumpy one faster than you can say “where’s my coffee?”
We all have them, and I’m no exception. So, grab a comfy seat and let’s dive into the delightful world of my personal pet hates, because sometimes, venting is the best therapy.
First up, let’s talk about irresponsible pet owners.
You know the type, they stroll through the park, their dog happily wagging its tail, while they blissfully ignore the little “gifts” left behind.
Seriously, people, it’s not a treasure hunt. If your dog decides to drop a deuce, it’s your responsibility to pick it up. I mean, I love a good surprise as much as the next person, but I prefer mine to come wrapped in a bow, not steaming on the pavement.
Next on my list are the litterbugs. You know who you are. You finish your snack and think, “Hey, why not just toss this wrapper on the ground?” Newsflash: The world is not your personal waste bin. If I wanted to see litter, I’d go to a landfill. Let’s keep our parks and streets clean, shall we?
And then there are those brave souls who leave public toilets without washing their hands. I mean, really? It’s like a game of Guess Who? but with germs.
If you can’t spare a few seconds to wash your hands, you might as well be handing out free samples of your latest bacteria collection.
So, dear readers, let’s take a moment to reflect on our own pet hates. What little annoyances get under your skin?
Maybe it’s time to channel that frustration into something positive, like a good laugh or a friendly reminder to those around us.
After all, life’s too short to let pet hates ruin our day.

We hear a lot about ‘influencers’ these days. The more mature and sensible among us avoid them completely.
If we should stumble over them occasionally, common sense compels us to stick our fingers in our ears, close our eyes and hum loudly. Provided we’re not travelling on public transport!
Along with ‘Circus clown’ and ‘Hollywood stuntman specialising in falls from high building and mountain peaks’, ‘Influencer’ wasn’t on the list of potential jobs that my careers master at school suggested I was cut out for.
To clarify, for the handful of readers who aren’t really sure what an influencer does and how they make a living, let me quote one description I read – “An influencer is a person who uses social media to promote or recommend products, services and lifestyles to their followers and can add serious credibility to brands”.
‘Serious credibility’ mentioned in the same sentence as ‘social media’? That has to be a first.
The ‘influencer’, who receives money to try and persuade (mainly) young people to part with theirs, may be a relatively modern phenomenon.
But when many people were growing up – certainly the generation before mine – an entirely different type of ‘influencer’ loomed large in their lives . . . and there were loads of them about.
By ‘influencers’, I am, of course, referring to ‘parents’, ‘grandparents’, ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’, ‘older siblings’, and even, if you were lucky, ‘next door neighbours’.
Potentially, these were the people who, as children and young teenagers, you listened to and learned from, even if you weren’t aware of it at the time.
You observed the way they behaved, ate, dressed and interacted with each other. And probably most important of all, the way they looked after you and looked out for you, helped form the adult you became.
I’m sure that still happens, but when economic necessity forces both parents to work (family members no longer live in close proximityand we may not know who our neighbours are), the positive influence of good people in the community dissolves.
Social media ‘influencers’ are a poor substitute.
By the way, I reckon I’d have made a brilliant Hollywood stuntman!

Get ready to party, folks, because festival season is back and better than ever!
If you’ve been feeling bogged down by the daily grind, it’s time to let your hair down, kick off your shoes, and dive headfirst into a world of pure fun.
Seriously, who needs therapy when you can dance like nobody’s watching and eat your weight in festival food?
From mind-blowing music that makes your heart race to mouth-watering food that could make a gourmet chef weep, and jaw-dropping art that’ll leave you questioning your life choices, there’s something for everyone at these epic gatherings!
Whether you’re a headbanger, a foodie, or an art aficionado, festivals have got you covered like sunscreen on a sunny day!
But wait, there’s more!
These fabulous festivities aren’t just good for our souls; they’re also a major boost for our local economies.
Think about it: small businesses get a chance to shine brighter than a disco ball, communities thrive like a well-watered plant, and jobs are created faster than you can say “free samples!”
It’s a win-win situation that even your accountant would approve of!
And let’s not forget about the talented artists and performers who get to strut their stuff in front of massive crowds. It’s their time to shine under the spotlight, and, trust me, they’re ready to bring the house down!
So, let’s get out there and support our favorite festivals!
Attend them, volunteer, and spread the word on social media like it’s your job (because, let’s be honest, it kind of is!).
Life is too short to miss out on the good times, and festivals are the ultimate celebration of life itself.
Get ready to dance, laugh, and create unforgettable experiences. The festival season is here, and it’s time to party like there’s no tomorrow!
Let’s make some memories, make some friends, and make the most of every moment!

If ever your spirits need lifting, may I recommend you watch any (or all) of the three Paddington films which have enchanted cinemagoers, DVD purchasers and TV watchers since the first one was released in 2014.
While watching the latest in the trilogy, 2024’s Paddington In Peru, it didn’t take me long to pick up on the fact the writers and producers had peppered it with several visual references to classic movies, from 2001: A Space Odyssey to Raiders Of The Lost Ark, which just added to the fun.
One visual gag was a very clever reconstruction of the famous scene in Buster Keaton’s Steamboat Bill Jnr (1928), where the wooden frontage of a house falls onto an unsuspecting Buster, who escapes injury as he’s standing under an open window.
This made me wonder what the difference is between what’s often generously referred to as an ‘hom-age’ to an original creative idea that’s previously been performed by someone . . . and ‘blatant theft’!
As styles of comedy have changed over the decades, ‘nicking jokes’ from other comedians happens less these days.
Many modern comedians don’t tell jokes, as such.
They prefer to create a routine or the whole of their act around one specific topic, quite often some personal trauma from their past.
The material is then so identified with that comic, no other performer would dare to ‘borrow’ any of it.
There’s a tendency to call what were once simply referred to as ‘jokes’, as ‘Dad’ jokes. Which is unfair to comedians who still entertain audiences by telling gags.
Barry Cryer was a much-admired, prolific comedy writer, yet there were stories about him allegedly watching comedians and writing down their jokes.
He was, apparently, so well-known for it that he once walked into a Green Room at the BBC where Spike Milligan was relaxing after a show.
On seeing Barry, Spike jumped up, threw himself against the wall as if he was about to be ‘frisked’ and said, “OK, Cryer! Don’t hurt me. Just take my gags”
A story that Barry probably told against himself more than once!

Ah, traffic and parking, my two main pet hates that seem to rear their ugly heads more often than a whack-a-mole game at the fair.
If you’ve ever found yourself circling the block for what feels like an eternity, only to end up with a parking fine that feels more like a stealth tax than a legitimate penalty, you’re not alone.
According to one of my loyal readers, parking fines are again on the rise, and it’s enough to make anyone want to pull their hair out.
Now, let’s talk about the local town car parks.
It’s downright frustrating to see parking charges increasing in the very towns that are struggling to fill commercial properties and shops.
It’s like putting a “Closed for Business” sign on the door of our beloved local businesses, which are fighting tooth and nail to maintain market share and attract customers.
These are the small businesses that have served us well for years, and I fear that a few won’t make it to the end of the year. Mark my words.
Increasing parking costs are like a “No Entry” sign for potential customers, deterring them from spending money that could support our local community.
So, here’s a thought: what if every councillor, member of parliament, and Welsh Senedd member had to undertake a recognised qualification in business studies, marketing, and management?
I mean, why are we still voting for candidates who seem to have less business acumen than a goldfish?
In my many years of engaging with local government members, I’ve found that they often lack a grasp of grassroots business matters and what truly drives the local economy.
If we want our hard-earned cash to stay in the community, we need thriving towns, not ghost towns. Otherwise, we’ll be spending our money on the motorways – and, let’s be honest, I hate traffic.
So, there you have it, my rant is over.
Let’s hope for a future where parking is affordable, local businesses thrive, and traffic jams become a thing of the past.
Now, if only I could find a parking spot . . .

It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t eavesdrop on other people’s conversations when I’m lingering over a latte, mulling over a macchiato or cogitating over a cappuccino in a coffee shop or café.
I don’t deliberately earwig what my fellow coffee drinkers are talking about. Honest, Guv!
In my defence, M’lud, although I frequent some coffee shop chains, I prefer small, independent places where, to maximise their income, they cram in as many tables and chairs as possible, so I’m often this close to people on the next table!
Having established that I’m not some sort of ‘aural voyeur’, I was in one such tiny coffee shop recently, staring wistfully into my Americano as it slowly devoured the digestive biscuit which had slipped out of my fingers in mid-dunk.
Is there a more dispiriting sight than a biccie sinking below the surface of your hot drink? I think not.
While I was toying with the pros and cons of fishing the drowned digestive out of my cup with a spoon, a man and woman sat next to me.
I say ‘next’ to me. If they’d got any closer, she would have been sitting on my knee and he would have demanded to know how long the pair of us had been carrying on behind his back.
They were mid-conversation even before they sat next to me and she was telling him, “The fact is, I’ve never trusted Nigel. He’s as crafty as a barrow-load of monkeys”. A rather damning opinion, with which her male companion agreed.
But I couldn’t agree. She was wrong and I was itching to tell her.
Not that I had any idea who this ‘Nigel’ was. What I disagreed with was her use of the term ‘Barrow-load’.  The correct expression is ‘Barrel-load’, as anyone familiar with the expression knows.
It took enormous self-control to stop myself correcting her and I concentrated on retrieving my disappointingly dissolved digestive, while wondering how monkeys crammed inside a barrel might be considered ‘crafty’.
I’ll try and come up with an answer next time I’m in a café . . .

I don’t know about you, but I’m positively thrilled that the Easter holiday weekend is finally behind us.
It’s like emerging from a chocolate coated cave of chaos, and let me tell you, the roads were rammed tighter than a can of sardines.
If you thought you could escape for a peaceful drive, think again.
It was like every family in the country decided to take a road trip at the same time. I half expected to see a convoy of bunnies leading the way.
And don’t even get me started on the railways.
They were mainly closed for repair work, which is a bit like going to a bakery only to find out they’re out of bread.
“Sorry, folks, no trains today. But we do have a lovely view of the construction site!”
It’s a wonder anyone made it to their Easter destinations at all.
Now, let’s talk about the real tragedy of the holiday: the chocolate eggs.
Every year, I hold out hope that this will be the year I find the perfect egg, one that’s filled with joy and not just a few sad, stale jelly beans.
But, alas, I was once again met with disappointment. I mean, who knew that a chocolate egg could taste like regret?
As we dive back into the working week, it’s clear that there are more stressed parents this week than there were last week.
You can practically see the caffeine coursing through their veins as they navigate the post-Easter sugar crash.
So, here’s to surviving another holiday season.
May your roads be clear, your trains be running, and your chocolate eggs be filled with actual chocolate next year.
Cheers to the return of sanity.

How do you greet people when you meet them in the street, a pub or your place of work?
I’d guess most of us say “Hello” or “Alright? – although that greeting may be used mainly in south Wales.
There’s also a rather crude greeting which I remember from my youth, involving one male person casually asking another male person, “How’s it . . . ?”
(EDITOR’S NOTE: Dear reader. I was tempted to cut that line, for all our sakes!).
I’m not keen on using “Hi!” as a greeting, because (and I realise it’s my problem and nobody else’s) when I hear “Hi!” it reminds me of those Cliff Richard & The Shadows movies of the early 60s, like Summer Holiday.
There’s always a scene in which Cliff says to Hank Marvin’s musical combo, “Hi, fellahs! Why don’t we try that number right now?”
“Hi!” is running neck and neck with “Hello!” these days, probably due to the fact a lot of people start their emails with it.
Well, it’d be pointless finishing an email with it!
Even so, I much prefer “Hi!” to the greeting that gets used increasingly in modern British TV dramas – the very American and very annoying “Hey!”
If you’re wondering what I’m going on about (“Nothing new there, Phil!”) take, as an example, the most recent series of “Unforgotten” on ITV One.
As well-made as it was, over six episodes, everyone upon meeting a friend or relation, said “Hey!” – never “Hello!” or “How are you?”
When one detective wandered into another detective’s workspace or office, they didn’t say “Can I have a minute?” or “Are you busy?” like normal people would.
They gave a sort of half-nod and said “Hey!” and the other person would return the semi-nod and say “Hey!” in return.
I found it so irritating and so unlikely that British people would behave like that, it detracted from the drama.
Unless we’ve suddenly become America’s 51st State and not everyone got the memo, including me, I’m sticking with “Hello!” and refuse to become a member of the “Hey!” team!

So, here I am, sitting down to write this week’s column, and I have to admit, I’m not exactly feeling like my usual sparkling self.
You know those days when positivity feels as far away as your last New Year’s resolution? Yes, I’m having one of those!
But fear not, loyal readers, because I’ve discovered the secret to surviving these “off” days: it’s perfectly ok to not be a walking ray of sunshine 24/7!
When those pesky doubts start creeping in, I remind myself that it’s totally fine to feel a bit “meh.”
In fact, I take a moment to reflect on the things I’m grateful for, like waking up this morning, being able to see out of my bedroom window (Hello, world!), and breathing in that fresh air.
Seriously, have you ever stopped to appreciate the miracle of air? It’s like nature’s free gift that keeps on giving, no batteries required!
Now, let’s talk about self-care. It’s not just a trendy buzzword; it’s essential!
In a world where we’re bombarded with news and social media 24/7, it’s no wonder our mental health sometimes feels like a deflated balloon.
So, here’s my advice: put down your phone, turn off the laptop, and switch off the TV. Instead, invest in some quality time with the people who make you feel good.
A good cwtsh (yes, that’s spelled correctly, editor!) or a hearty laugh with friends can be the best therapy around.
Remember, self-care isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity!
So, the next time you’re feeling a bit off, take a moment to appreciate the little things, surround yourself with good vibes, and don’t forget to give yourself a break.
After all, life is too short not to enjoy the ride, even on bumpy days.
And if all else fails, just remember: chocolate is always a valid form of self-care!