Radio Times

It's a well known fact that the seventies were brought to you by the colour brown - cars, wallpaper, furniture, clothes. In fact, flossy, pictured above on the sleeve of Your One Hundred Best Tunes (a Decca release, which tied in with the Light Programme radio show of the same name), is a perfect case in point.
I don't know how she's done it, but, as a result of some seventies related condition, she's managed to morph into her brown armchair and appears to be reaching out to her brown transistor radio in a vain attempt to reverse the procedure.
And all the while a well thumbed copy of the Radio Times clings to her cold, lifeless hands.

How can he be sure?

David Cassidy has just announced his retirement. During a recent live show he forgot the words to a number of his hit records and at one point tumbled off the stage; he hadn't fallen off the wagon, as some initially thought, but instead has been diagnosed with dementia.
The former pop idol has not had much in the way of luck lately. Rehab clinics, courtrooms and the back of police vehicles have been his backdrop for the last few years; the days when he could sell out venues faster than the Beatles are long gone. Ditto his poster boy image.
For anyone interested in where it all started to go wrong - after a handful of years where it was all going so incredibly right - I seriously recommend his self-penned memoir 'Could it be Forever?'
And if you fancy some tasty reworkings of his old 45s, look no further than his rather excellent 1998 album Old Trick, New Dog.

David Cassidy - How Can I Be Sure?

"Please yourself"

Peter Skellern (1947 - 2017)

I was saddened to hear yesterday of Peter Skellern's passing. The obituaries in today's papers and online all seem to be cut & pasted from the same handful of facts some rookie journalist has cobbled together from Wikipedia: born in Bury, could play the piano a bit, had a hit in the early seventies, and became a priest not long before pegging it aged 69.

Not that I can add much more to the plaudits bestowed on him by his family, friends and fans. Other than to say I will always remember him as Carter Brandon in the radio adaptation of Uncle Mort's North Country by Peter Tinniswood. Skellern's monosyllabic one liners teed up his laconic uncle's withering monologues perfectly.

  They gave Carter Brandon a week off work, so he thought he'd spend the time taking day trips in his car. He took his Uncle Mort with him.
  It was an ancient Ford Zodiac with sad headlamps and limp seat belts.

'Shall I sit in the front seat, Carter?'

'Please yourself.'

Mosteiro Estrada

Lisbon, Saturday afternoon

From left to right:

Jim (George)

Dom (Paul)

JT (Ringo)

Matt (John)

Lisbon

Eusébio, my friend JT, and Super Bock. There, that's about my sum knowledge of Portugal. Oh, and Baxter Dury (great Portugal reference - below). Maybe by the time I get back from Lisbon on Monday I'll know a bit more.

Getting in early

James & Janneke

It's James' birthday next week. We won't see him on the day, but we're spending this weekend with him and Janni and will take his presents with us. James lives in Manchester these days and is heavily involved in the Arts up there. I've always worn my Proud Parent badge unashamedly, and never more so than when I watch films like this: