Ca. y.. te.. m. h.. t. ge. t. th. Ho.ida. I.. pl..s.?

Hitchin emailed me yesterday to draw my attention to this succinct one-sentence summary of the career of the late Norman Collier:

BBC: Comedian Norman Collier dies aged 87
… Collier went on to make regular appearances on television and at theatres across the UK in the 1970s and 80s, and is arguably best remembered for his act featuring an intermittently working microphone - and his chicken impression.

I don't think there's any ‘arguably’ about it.

True story: I met Norman Collier once. I was walking down the street in Liverpool, when he pulled up alongside me in a Rolls Royce (a gold-coloured Rolls Royce, if memory serves, although that might be an embellishment). He asked for directions to the Holiday Inn. I told him to turn right at the bottom of the hill, carry on till the next set of traffic lights, etc. He thanked me and sped off. It was only then that I realised I had meant to say turn left at the bottom of the hill. I've felt bad about it ever since. I also deeply regret not thinking to pretend that my microphone was broken when I was giving him directions. Oh how he would have laughed!

Jen and I saw another comic Norman once. No, not my dad; Norman Wisdom. He was waiting for a plane at the Isle of Man airport. I dared Jen to shout “MISTER GRIMSDALE!!!!” at him. Jen told me not to be so stupid.

Jen and I bumped into another comedy legend at a different airport once. No, his name wasn't Norman. That would have been too much of a co-incidence. It was Stan Boardman. He looked very hassled. Tempted as I could see she was, Jen did not seize the opportunity to shout “THE GIIIIRRRRRRRRRRMANS!” at him.

And then there was the time Irish Mick and I saw Mike Harding struggling to light a barbecue in ridiculously strong wind. You couldn't make this nonsense up.

I could go on to tell you about my close encounter with Roland Rivron at the Albert Dock in Liverpool, but I've already done that, and I'd hate to repeat myself.

How about you? Have you ever had any random encounters with comedy legends?

Lead astray

For reasons I won't bore you with, I had occasion to visit the Pencil Museum in Keswick on Wednesday. Now there's 15 minutes and £4.50 I'll never see again. But I did get to see the world's biggest colour pencil, so it wasn't a complete waste of time.

Oh, and I saw this:

Model of Tower Bridge made from pencils
A model of Tower Bridge made from pencils on Wednesday

And to think cynics said it couldn't be done.

Vertical lateral thinking

Augustus the Strong
Augustus the Strong (1670–1733)

You can say what you like about Augustus the Strong, Elector of Saxony, but he was one hell of a tosser. At one tournament he presided over, 647 foxes, 533 hares, 34 badgers and 21 wildcats were killed for fun.

Animal tossing, most commonly fox tossing, was once a popular sport in certain parts of Europe—primarily amongst the aristocracy, obviously. Two toffs would take either end of a large sling and launch the wild creatures skywards, usually to deadly effect.

Fox tossing tournament
A fox tossing tournament of the early 18th century. (Note the quite high foxes.)

Unusually for a blood sport practised almost exclusively by the aristocracy, fox tossing went the way of blood sports popular amongst mere plebs, such as bear baiting, cock fighting, and goose pulling. Yes, goose pulling.

Well, call me controversial, but I think it might be time for an animal tossing revival. Only this week, we've heard how we need to cull 50% of the deer in the UK to protect the countryside. Personally, I'd re-introduce wolves to keep them in check, but I suspect I'm in the minority on that one. So why don't we launch our spare deer into the air instead? Can you imagine how cool it would be to toss a deer—to see it actually somersaulting through the air? I'd pay good money to see that. Then there's the invasive grey squirrels. Bastards! Up in the air with them too! And cats, obviously. Bloody, bloody cats!

Seriously, though, I'm struggling to see any drawbacks with this one: fewer deer, grey squirrels and cats ruining the countryside; still no wolves to worry about; and even the toffs are happy!

It's a win-win-win!

Catzinger

BBC: Benedict XVI: 10 things about the Pope's retirement
6. Life in retirement Announcing his resignation, the Pope said he would spend his time praying for the Church. His elder brother, Monsignor Georg Ratzinger, has also said Benedict would be happy to advise his successor, if required. Writing and studying also seems likely to be on the agenda - Benedict had a library of 20,000 books installed in the papal apartments when he was elected in 2005. He also enjoys playing the piano and watching old black-and-white comedies - and he loves cats. At least one, Contessina, is known to live at Mater Ecclesiae.

The Pope ‘loves cats’.

I rest my case.