I sometimes wish there was a god...

because then I could have someone to get angry at when things go wrong.

Hello all, the Guru and Mrs B are both very tired today. We have joined the ranks of the Groupon Groupies and spent last night at a nice hotel in Grantham. I enjoyed a round of golf whilst Mrs B enjoyed the swimming pool and I played golf well enough to not be angry.  I then had a nice relaxing bath which eased me into the evening and we then shared a nice meal with a bottle of wine and then coffee and cointreau.

All of this for £26.00 - a real bargain.

Today, a visit to Stamford and a walk around the market enabling Mrs B to buy some nice fresh vegetables and have a look in the tourist shops - where a plastic orchid retails for £69.00!

Home and then Tesco for a quick shop, all without incident except for the pharmacy stating that my prescription would be ready in 90 minutes!

Normally that would be enough to set me off but I remained calm and it is only now that I sit down to write that I feel like shaking my fist at someone. Actually I feel like kicking gods teeth right down his almighty throat.

One of the questions that is often posed is why would any god let bad things happen to good people? Earthquakes and other natural disasters destroying the lives of hundreds if not thousands in the blink of an eye.

What about the children who are the victims of abuse? Where is god on those occasions?

What about the hundreds who are killed by dangerous and drunk drivers, quietly going about their business only to have their life snuffed out because some idiot decided he knew that he could take that corner at 60mph even though the limit is 30mph.

There are so many more examples that make people question is there a loving and omnipotent god?

The usual answer is god moves in a mysterious way or mankind is not intelligent enough to understand the plan that god has for mankind. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away - blessed be the name of the Lord!

We just have to accept it and move on...

Last night we had a phone call, it was a call to tell us that a young man who Mrs B and I are very fond of, has been diagnosed with cancer.

I don't want to be too specific because it is not for me to breach any confidences but needless to say the first thing I thought was - why him?

There will be many who have had similar experiences I'm sure, questioning why someone they love is dealt an awful hand in life whilst we all know people who are just a waste of space and yet seem to get away with murder.

Life is not fair...

You feel so helpless - no one to shout at, no one to blame.

Life is not fair...

I don't suppose it would be right if we could apply for the job of arbiter in these matters - our personal feelings would cloud our judgement I'm sure. Then again, if I had the job I would certainly take the cancer from this young, talented and charming man and give it Colonel Gaddafi -  without hesitation!

Would that be wrong?

(In memory of Charlie Adams) x

Resistance is Futile...

My absence from the blogosphere over these last few days is down to will power, a supreme effort was needed to keep me writing awful things about Catholic priests and bishops. The urge to vent has now passed over me and so I can safely commit finger to keyboard and fill your life with a little sunshine to pierce the veil of fog that seems to have descended on the country.

Japan still holds the headlines, especially the ongoing drama at the Fukushima power plant - the ebb and flow of good and bad news entrancing our country whilst the Japanese try and rebuild their lives.

On a more cheerful note I see the comedian I call Miranda Hart has won the award for comedy at The Royal Television Society, and the former musician Brian Cox continues his upward trajectory into the stratosphere of stardom. He is more famous now than when he was famous before - but at least he is famous for doing something and not just famous for being famous as most famous people seem to be these days.

I know a few famous people, I was talking to George Takei last night and Gyles Brandreth has invited me to go and see his one man show in London. I can't make it but how nice of him to ask me - he even said that I should come backstage after the show for a chat - do you think he wants to pick my brain for new material or is it my collection of knitting patterns he's after?

On the subject of Pattens, I see Lord Chris Patten is being lined up as the new chairman of the BBC Trust, although some have said he is not qualified for the role as he does not watch Eastenders...I would have thought that made him eminently qualified for any job.

I watch television to cheer myself up, to escape from the drudgery of normal life - so I watch programmes where people are happier then me...so by that measure those watching Eastenders must be really miserable.

It's a sort of snobbery though, I admit it, Eastenders is for the lowest classes - us middle classes watch Professor Brain Cox. Hold on though, I just noticed that Eastenders won a RTS Award too!

You could see that artistic snobbery on display at The Olivier Awards on Sunday - the audience on its feet cheering for Stephen Sondheim, his style far away from the musical that won the award voted for by the public - We Will Rock You. Even Brian May was shocked that he won.

So, time to toast my crumpets and make another cup of tea before I head off into the fog - I want to leave you with this motto and I expect you to sew it onto a handkerchief so you will always be reminded of its value...

In life it is always nice to be important but it's more important to be nice!

Until we meet again...

Japan

It's very hard to write a silly blog in light of what is happening in Japan. Watching the tsunami as it tore across the Japanese countryside I had a very similar feeling to that I recall in witnessing the events of 9-11.

Seeing the events at the nuclear power station and knowing the history of what radiation poisoning did to that country, you can't help but feel sorry for the people who are now living this awful nightmare. Let's hope things are not as bad as the media make out.

As I said I can't write a silly blog, I wasn't going to write one at all - but then I heard some religious twat - a catholic bishop (of course) -  saying this isn't an act of god, this is the consequences of man denying god by building on fault lines.

Well bishop - the Catholic church isn't that big in Japan but you certainly did a good job in showing the caring side of your organisation...

Perhaps the same bishop will be on tv again when San Francisco falls into the Pacific ocean to say - told you so!

Why is it that god takes the praise for all the good in the world and never gets any of the blame when things go wrong?

That's it - no more today...

I Have An Electric Boot!

It's true! It's true! The Crown has made it clear...

Sorry, a little Camelot outburst got me, but it is true, I do have an electric boot - on the borrowed car I am driving at the moment.

Now I understand how, with hands full, the quick press of a button on your key fob will enable you to deposit your burden into the boot, the lid rising majestically at your control but how lazy and incompetent do you have to be to then have a separate button to press which lowers the boot again?

The car also has bluetooth for your mobile phone so you talk through the radio - it's all a bit technical but one thing is for sure, it runs the battery down on your phone too quickly.

The car even has a little flashing light which displays a number from 3 to 6 and it took me a little while to understand it was advising which gear you should be in.

Eventually they will design a car that does not need a driver, nor passengers - there will be countless empty cars roaming the streets looking for parking spaces.

But why do you have this new car I hear you ask...my own chariot is in the hands of the mechanics undergoing the surgery I spoke about last week, fly wheels and clutch.

Yesterday I arose early and drove to Derby to do the swap over, then quickly back home to get changed before driving to Lincoln then Grantham, then Lincoln and home arriving at about 8.15pm.

I had managed to find a small window in my schedule that allowed me to call in at our favourite chinese restaurant, The Ocean, in Lincoln. After nibbling a few prawn crackers, I dispatched a spring roll and then devastated a Kung Po chicken.

When I did get home, the house was empty but for our two doggie lodgers, Mrs B was off at the theatre drooling over Anton Du Beke.

I put the telly on and watched the end of a concert filmed in 1973, it was the great Marlene Dietrich. Aged about 72, sewed into a skin tight dress, she lisped her way through her catalogue of songs and gave a performance that only she could get away with.

She was never happy with the results of this taped concert but she did get paid £250,000, which was a lot of money back in the early 1970's.

It reminded me of a great night that Mrs B and I had in the theatre, we went to the Theatre Royal in Lincoln to see Sian Phillips in a play about Dietrich, simply called Marlene. Phillips was brilliant, and it had to be about the best thing I ever saw done on that stage - with the possible exception of Tony Fielding-Raby in La Cage.

Of course all the shows I did on that stage were breathtaking - but I didn't see them so I can't comment.

So, it was a long day and today will be equally busy and then I must rescue my car and give up the one with the electric boot.

It also has sliding rear doors so in short...

there's simply not, a more congenial spot, for happily-ever-aftering than here in Camelot.
       
Bloody Camelot-itis now!

How many Dicks do you know?

Hi Di Hi

Whilst watching Breakfast TV this morning, I noted the appearance of Richard Westcott, reporting on the demise of the public toilet - as I have already stated elsewhere, with his scruffy beard and clothing and in the manner with which he nonchalantly leaned against the toilet door, he gave the impression of a French rent boy.

It got me thinking about other Richard's famous or not - that have crossed my path.

I have a brother called Richard, he is not famous - yet. He did have his moment in the spotlight as a boy soprano. My mother wept tears of joy as he stood before the congregation and sang the opening verse to Once In Royal Davids City for a Christmas carol concert. His singing career petered out after appearing as one of Fagin's gang in a production of Oliver.

Being from Mansfield I must mention Richard Bacon, now I don't know Mr Bacon but I have met his mum and dad, does that count?

Last night I heard Miriam Margoyles on the Graham Norton show stating her dislike for the late Richard Harris - he was grumpy apparently.

Now Richard Widmark looked grumpy but was a very nice man by all accounts and then I recalled Richard Whitleley but after that I started to run short of famous Richards.

Oh wait, Richard Roundtree just jumped into my mind - he was the original Shaft of course...

And another flash - many years ago Mrs B and I were on holiday and we happened to be in LA on the day that Little Richard was being given his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame - didn't meet him but we got close enough to see that it was really him, or what was left of him after all the plastic surgery.

Dick Dastardly - but he was a cartoon character...

Dick Sargeant - from Bewitched...

suddenly all these dicks were flashing in my head!

But there must be more so how to jog my memory and dredge up some more names - I know, the internet....


Dear Readers, please take my advice and  type "famous Richards" NOT "celebrity dicks" in your search engine. I got quite a shock.

I am going to leave you now to come up with your own Richards and Dicks.

Enjoy.