TAKE THE WEATHER WITH YOU

I'm probably rather late with this as everyone else has been talking about ad nauseam for weeks. The weather.

However, just talking to friends and family it is amazing just how dependent we are even in this second millennium.

I wonder due to the changeable nature of the weather plus climate change if maybe we should be thinking of rejigging the year a little.

We are told spring is earlier and the flowers and furry creatures that do so much to provide harmony in nature and nice snacks for us are out earlier too.

So bearing in mind recent events I would like to propose the following.

Spring should start in May and summer in September. Autumn obviously would begin in December, so it follows that winter happens from about February until late April.

"April with it's snows so soote" or something as Chaucer wrote as I half remember.

If we steal a march on the rest we can hopefully book our summer holidays in the low season and so can afford to visit Australia whilst the weather is getting warmer down there.

Christmas will still be pleasant enough to have a turkey BBQ.

The January sales will be full of cheap winter wear just as it starts getting colder and the Easter Bunny will be in his winter coat.

This may not stand too severe scrutiny, however it is from germs of ideas that mighty metaphors grow!

Couple this to my idea that Christmas should be held twice a year, to avoid overcrowding and be better for the family budget with odd numbered houses having Christmas at normal time and even numbered in June and I think we have a recipe for success.

Either that or the early morning starts have unhinged my mind.

16 CANDLES!

Well maybe a few more although I think you may agree listening to the show that is an age I aspire to.

So the first part of "Operation Birthday Squirrel" had been completed to the Dark Lady's satisfaction and my delight.

There was marginal tension at the end of the haircut and wash when I was ready to go and my hair was still damp. I was also reading a rather harrowing internet article on child pape on my phone and being a guy can't multitask.

"Your hair's still wet"

"Mmm, it's fine"

"Do you want them to dry it a bit more?"

"Mmm... nah not particularly"

"It's still wet and you have treatment on your hair"

"I never dry it totally. I like to let it dry naturally"

"You're not listening, you're living in your phone"

"Mmm wha-what?"

After I made my point in an eloquent and understated way:

"IT'S FINE!!!!"

We set off for a late lunch.

For ages the Dark Lady had been telling me about her favourite Italian restaurant which was family run. She had been there many times over the years, often for business lunches being a tycoon and all. She even bonded with the waitress over finger injuries.

You may remember on Boxing Day my lovely wife managed to stab herself rather severely with a very sharp knife whilst destoning an avocado. In this instance the waitress had managed to nearly saw her thumb off whilst doing something restaurant related I presume.

We were early so we had the place to ourselves. As the kitchen was gearing up for the evening rush, they brought out some extra bits on the house for us to try so that they could be sure they were going the right way with the recipes which was a bit of a bonus.

I had some "spaghettini", which looks a bit like angel hair pasta. I adore pasta and can eat it by the bucket load. We decided on a starter of avocado (DL still loves them despite nearly losing a finger in a battle with one) with tuna in my case and mozzarella in hers. I know that when we are out eating I will get to try hers and she won't want to try mine. This aids my inherent greed without it appearing like I have ordered two of everything.

A glass of champagne to toast my birthday plus a glass of the house white and we were ready for the next stage of the proceedings.

Tickets were suddenly produced for "a play". Being the organised one (I am really punching above my weight here), the Dark Lady had even ordered a taxi to take us from the restaurant to the theatre.

How she puts up with me is a miracle as we cruised into London's Theatreland and I peered excitedly out of the window.

"Is it The Lion King?"

"No"

"Is it We Will Rock You?"

"No"

"Is it The Mousetrap?"

"No"

"Is it Mamma Mia?"

"No"

"Is it Jersey Boys?"

"We've seen that"

"Is it One man Two Guvnors?"

"No"

"Is it The Book of Mormon?"?

"It's not on here and we've seen it"

"Is it..."

That was as far as I got before we drew up outside the Aldwych Theatre for "Noises Off", a play within a play or in this case a farce within a farce starring Celia Imrie.

Neither of us are very good with theatre, particularly serious plays as we can see the mechanics of the acting going on which for some reason we don't notice in films.

We both like musicals having seen "Crazy For You" the Gershwin musical last summer at the open air theatre in London's Regents Park.

I think I enjoyed it more than the DL who is not too keen on slapstick. Thus far in our relationship she has not been open to watching old Marx Brothers movies, although I like to think it is a matter of time before she crumbles. After all, I have sat through rather too much of "The X Factor" and "The Voice". So fair's fair!

It was brilliantly done if not brilliantly funny. There were a few laugh out loud moments but most of it just brought the occasional smile to the lips. What was good though was the comic timing of the cast. That was worth the not inconsiderable price of the ticket alone.

It had all the hallmarks of a proper farce.

People coming in and out of the front door and/or the window. Lots of people being locked in cupboards. Most importantly, trousers round the ankles on many occasions.

As we drove home after I still had one present to look forward to. The one from Ella and Jamie my stepchildren.

I wanted to open it in front of them, and earlier in the day they had been at school.

They had decided that if I was going to be part of the family and so be living with them a fair amount of the time it would probably be a good idea to have my very own towelling robe. After all, there is now not only an extra mouth to feed but also an extra body wedged in the bath for hours at a time.

I was very touched thank you, and children I promise not to get tomato soup stains on it like that one at my house!

JEEPERS CREEPERS!

It was my birthday last Friday.

First of all thank you for the many good wishes that came in to the show via text, Facebook, Twitter etc.

It was very kind of you. I hope to have many more!

The Dark Lady had been plotting surprises. This in our family is for some reason known as "squirrelling".

At about eleven I was whisked off to a large shopping centre to the err opticians.

She had booked me an eye test!

Before you head down the "she's trying to improve him" route, let me stop you there.

What she is dealing with is a husband who is the definition of slack. The acme of inertia. On my days off I can make boulders look animated.

What she had cleverly arranged along with the treats was a brilliant way of getting stuff done that I had been putting off for weeks or in some cases months.

The eye test was to ascertain my ocular prescription. I need some new "readers". The ones I have are the £2 from the hardware store type.

I don't like eye tests for the same reason I'm not keen on dental visits, nor trips to the doctor. You just KNOW they are going to find something wring and it will probably be fatal.

So a phone call to the other branch where I had a test in March and we had the information we needed. (+2 dioptre fans!)

So now the challenge. The frames. It was about noon. I asked the salesman what time his shift finished.

"Eight"

"You could be with us for most of that time. We're going to start top left and try them all on!"

So we worked through style by style until we had narrowed it down to three or four.

I've always gone for wire frames in the past. However, things have changed and we are looking more at heavier frames. Not talking Elvis Costello or Harry Hill here, but not frameless either.

In the end we plumped for two pairs which are now being made. The also rans we classed as "Norwegian geography lecturer" in style. A half-plastic half-wire pair were also rejected as "Madmen meet the second gunman on the grassy knoll!"

If you saw them you would know exactly what I meant.

So, an entertaining hour with a lot of laughter and a job had been completed.

Then it was off to the hairdressers. I have long hair. I like it. It is mine. It is not a rinse and so far it isn't dropping out. So whilst I have it I'm going to flaunt it.

As importantly, DL likes it providing it doesn't get too straggly and I end up looking like a model from your local high street branch of "Modern Hobo".

I have often voiced my concern that having your hair washed and cut often involves having your head massaged by a woman young enough to be your granddaughter. So terrified am I of appearing a dirty old man it can be months in between trims. If your wife is your chaperone, there is no chance of looking like an old letch.

So wash, cut, head massage, glass of sparkling mineral water and a flick through a couple of glossy magazines full of Teevee people and slebs who I have no interest in and it was on to the next squirrel.

I was getting hungry by this point...

Part two tomorrow!

"GONE COUNTRY. JUST LOOK AT THEM BOOTS!"

Radio 2 "2day" re-appeared last Thursday. Last year I was away with the Dark Lady on a 2 week American road trip retracing some of the footsteps from my first month-long "American Adventure" back in 2007. (Incidentally that blog is still available to read, as are the two subsequent trips. )

I didn't hear any of 2day last time but did take part in the Matt Lucas hosted show "The Lucas Awards" which was broadcast on the day and has transferred to TV recently with my role reprised by Esther Rantzen

This year what was I going to do? How was I going to be involved?

The call came from the Simon Mayo show. They had been tasked with doing an hour of Country Music and they knew I was a big fan.

The idea was that we would have a band of top session musicians in Nashville who would talk about the music, demonstrate their instrumental prowess and play a couple of tunes for us at the end.

Brilliant. I love Nashville and couldn't wait to board that plane.....

Hold hard there, boy. I was going to be in London. As was Simon. As was Sally Traffic. In fact so was everybody. Save for the musicians.

Rats!

An hour is no time to squeeze all the interviews and the tunes in. Still we managed it with Simon as ringmaster. I managed to get a few country-related anecdotes and facts in. Hopefully in the proceeds we whetted a few appetites and converted a few people to the idea that Country music is not just a series of US clichés, that it has a message, that it reflects a culture and is also to an extent a state of mind.

My Country Epiphany came driving through Arizona listening to Tri-state Country KFLG "K-FLAG".

I maintained that hearing it in it's natural setting aided understanding and appreciation. Although I wasn't going to take issue with the assertion that it can also sound good driving up the M6 on a rainy Thursday afternoon!

Judging by the feedback we received - other than the negative reaction from some - to the whole concept of 2day, I think it was a success and the hit of the day

Well, I would say that wouldn't I?

Yur durned tootin'!

WATER!

Day two of our retreat to the spa complete with guilt plates and excruciating deep tissue massage.

I dragged my battered body to the rather impressive indoor pool and paddled rather ineptly around as the Dark Lady swam strongly from end to end.

She is a crawl stylist whilst I favour breast stroke, which means she can do two lengths to my one. We sat and bubbled in the jaccuzzi for a while until it was time to dry off for dinner.

As you are often wet, the towelling robes and the flip flops are essential and tolerated at breakfast and lunch. Evenings is obviously a different matter, so it was lucky we dressed in our everyday clothes otherwise we would have been the only ones dining "a la towel".

As I said yesterday apart from the guilt plates the food was healthy but fairly normal with added nutritional information. To our surprise you could order wine so we split a bottle between us. Nectar!

I think that is as far as you can go. I wondered what would have happened if we had asked for a second bottle?

Would we have been wrestled to the ground and tasered by the diet police?

I didn't see any brandy nor cigars on offer, so I think a line is drawn at approximately 11.5% ABV.

We retired to the room, watched a DVD and fell into a rather achey sleep.

We could have had eggs and stuff for breakfast but as we were running out of time and wanted lunch as well, we just had toast. There is something very British about people in towelling robes queuing politely to place bread in the toaster. Then as it was a conveyor type, replacing it when it re-appeared slightly warm but still untoasted. No-one dared fiddle with the controls. Not the done thing, dontchaknow!

We had a final treatment each at 1PM so back to the pool we went, the idea being DL would power down twenty lengths and I would flounder around for perhaps half that. Then back to the room, pack up ready to leave, lunch then final treatment.

We loved the bathroom. Two basins. Double sized shower and a double ended bath. No arguments about who had the tap end. The only friction would be who occupied the end with the view of the built-in tv. I won and watched The Simpsons.

Then as we were getting ourselves organised I glanced at the itinerary for our 1PM treatments. I did a double take.

"Reflexology and flotation 12 noon"

TWELVE NOON??!!!?

It was already half past. DL immediately took charge and phoned reception. Everything seemed booked. Looks like we were sunk. Or erm not immersed.

She has a way with people that I don't. Instead of stomping off in a huff, she explained we were leaving in a couple of hours and was there any way?

There was. She went off to have her feet attended to with reflexology. They check your health by feeling your feet. It's a bit like casting runes or examining sheep entrails, I think.

Apparently she has had a neck problem (clue - tiny scar). They also mentioned her spleen. I spoke to someone after the weekend and they asked "did they mention the spleen? They usually do".

I had decided to try a dry flotation. I was given a fetching pair of paper pants (DL made me throw them away after - not sexy apparently), was basted with aromatic oils like the day before, wrapped in towels, placed on a bed, wrapped in a rubber sheet then at the touch of a button was lowered into a bath of warm water.

As it was a dry immersion, there was a rubber barrier between me and the water. So no danger of my pants disintegrating.

Then the lights were lowered and I was left to my own devices with a soundtrack of bird and I think whale song.

"Just relax. Drop off to sleep. Every twenty five minutes is the equivalent of two hours restful sleep" said the nice lady. At least I think that was the equation.

So I was alone with my thoughts and the "music". Time for some restful sleep?

NO.

"Dark in here"

Wooooo tweet twitter tweet wooo

"My nose is itching and I can't really move"

Eeeeeeooiooo chirp chirp tweet oooooo

"It's a bit hot in this rubber sheet"

Aawwwwooo aaawwwoooo chick chick chick aaaaaaaa

"Wonder how long I've got left. I may need the loo at some point"

Nnnnnnyyyoooo. Aak aak aak

"There are people talking in the corridor"

Wwwwwweeeeoooo tweet tweet

"What if there's a fire"?

Oooooaaaaaaaaoooo chirrup chirrup ooooooaaaaaooo

"This is ludicrous. You are a grown man in paper pants wrapped in a rubber incontinence sheeezzzzzzzzzzzzz"

I think I must have dozed off just before the end of the session. I'm not claustrophobic but was quite glad to be out of there.

Dark Lady was concerned that I hadn't enjoyed myself. I had. Every bizarre second of it.

Can't wait for another go. Not sure I'll go for flotation or deep tissue massage next time. There are dozens of other treatments to try though.

Hmmm, maybe a reflexology session. Feel my spleen may be playing up.

IF I SAID YOU HAD A BEAUTIFUL BODY!

For a wedding gift the Dark Lady had been given a voucher for a day and a night at a spa by some friends at work.

She has done day trips to these places before. Not that she needs beautifying as far as I'm concerned.

What would it be like with her pug-like husband in tow?

I will admit I have my prejudices and "health farms" or "spa resorts" are fairly high up on the list.

This is where fat people eat lettuce and kid themselves they are slimming, right?

We looked at the brochure beforehand and selected a couple of treatments. I'll admit it did look quite fun.

As you would expect it was situated in a grand country house of the type beloved by old episodes of The Avengers.

We checked in and were given the "uniform" - towelling robes and flip flops.

We were given the guided tour and then shown to our room. We were informed this was the one Barbara Windsor always occupied.

The clientele didn't seem to conform totally to the stereotype. There were fat people but a lot of quite trim and young people too.

We are doing a thread on the show at the moment concerning photos of "celebs" in unlikely places. Best so far was a pie and mash shop which had a photo of The Krays with the inscription "Mick. Nice eels!"

The walls in parts were lined with autographed photographs. However, many were rather old and featured long dead stars like Marty Feldman and Bernie Winters. For this price at a health farm I was expecting immortality!

There was time for lunch before the first treatment. It was lettuce based in part, but there was other tasty stuff too. The part I enjoyed most though was the "plate of guilt".

Still, if you ignored the markings it worked like any other.

DL went off for a facial. I will admit to being slightly disappointed when she returned not looking like The Lion King.

I had decided on massage. Judging by the nudges and winks I got when I told you a few years back I had had a massage on a trip to Amsterdam some years back (it was a FOOT massage), massage is always a slightly risky occupation for a bloke. What err happens err if err you know err and err you err have to err turn err over?

I needn't have worried as I had decided on aromatherapy deep tissue.

So clad in my rather fetching pants, I climbed into the table and stuck my face in the useful hole.

The tiny dainty lady slathered me up like she was basting a turkey. Through the hole I saw a little pair of shoes appear.

Aaaauughhh!

Yaaroooh!

Ooof!

Ow!

Owchy

She plunged her very sharp pointy elbows into my tender flash.

Hnnnnnnggg!

Rrrooo oo oo oo!

Hoo hoo hoo oo!

I was being pummelled in a most (I presume) therapeutic fashion.

This went on for the best part of an hour.

"You may feel a little sore in the morning," she smiled sweetly as I staggered out feeling completely wiped out. DL was fresh as a daisy. I on the other hand felt thirty years older. Still, there was always lettuce and the guilt plate to look forward to.

There was also the evening and the next day's treatment. Would I survive?

Stand by for the next wince-inducing episode.

THAT'S LIVING ALRIGHT!

Thought I ought to go and do something important yesterday so I didn't. In fact it was all in all a bit of quiet one.

On the plus side I was able to catch up on one of the many perks and privileges of this job - I got to listen to a whole load of CDs that had been sent.

I have often mentioned this happy chore before. However, I do wonder sometimes if the PR companies and some of the record pluggers have actually ever heard the show bearing in mind some of the weird stuff I am sent.

In addition TV companies often send me press releases asking me to plug their latest offering.

"Dear Alec

The latest series of "Bonkers Grandma" starts this week and we wondered if you could perhaps give it a mention on your show. 97 year old Aggie is available for an interview."

"Dear Alix

We're looking for contestants for our new quiz "Guess My Colour". Each week a group of teenagers have to accurately predict what the others are wearing, armed only with their noses as they will be blindfolded. The host Jez Jezzer is available for interview."

"Dear Lester

It's back. Yes, the third series of "Celebrity Bottoms" starts this Saturday. Another ten celebrities with no shame will be baring their buttocks in another attempt to win the £10,000 cash prize which will go to their designated charity. The producer Wyn Garden is available for interview. Perhaps you'd like to run a competition on your show to get viewers to phone in to win a chance to go to one of the recordings. We can provide stickers and badges as prizes for the runners up."

Note to TV producers. If you want me to mention your show, invite me on it. Although I'll pass on "Celebrity Bottoms" if it's all the same to you.

Every day up to a dozen CDs arrive on my desk and it is my delightful task to try and sift through them to find ones suitable for Lester's Library.

I actually listen to about half of them I reckon, as the others are just targeted at the wrong guy and the wrong station.

1. Norwegian Death Metal. Unlikely to get an airing.

2. Inuit Throat Singing. Also unlikely to get an airing.

3. Latest teen sensation, pictures of whom are about to adorn every thirteen year old's wall. Unless an amazing original talent rather than a manufactured cynical marketing exercise, unlikely to get an airing.

4. Home made bedroom and badly recorded cover version. Unless on a recognised label and available to buy, unlikely to get an airing.

5. Foul mouthed rap artist. I quite like some rap stuff. However if every second word is f*&^% unlikely to get an airing. If it does it is a terrible accident and I am really really sorry it won't happen again please don't fire me.

6. Charity records. Unlikely to get an airing. Everyone's charity is important to them. Some of the records are good and some are terrible. Because they have the category "charity" I feel like I am being blackmailed into playing them. Children In Need is the official BBC charity. So they get a bye.

7. Ambient music with each track lasting ten minutes. Unlikely to get an airing. Unless you are lying in tepid water in an isolation chamber listening to this and whale song, not really suitable for keeping people awake at The Best Time of the Day.

8. Intense, introverted songwriters singing songs of deep philosophical significance over twenty-five verses. Unlikely to get an airing. We only have three hours for goodness sake and we try and squeeze 40 songs into that period.

9. Anything with a press release stating "has already received substantial airplay on Trunch FM. Gary "Mr Zither" Stevens is fast becoming Trunch's best known musical export"! Unlikely to get an airing.

10. Anything with comedy animals. Unlikely to get an airing. Particularly if featured in adverts. "Those crazy meerkats are back with their latest single "simples... gleek". Not on my watch Buster!

11. The fat bloke from the Go Compare ads. I've had several CDs from him as I recall. We don't do gratuitous advertising on the BBC so what on earth makes you think we are going to start plugging you now even though you probably do have quite a good voice.

12. Eurovision songs from countries I've never heard of. Even when translated into English. "Hip and Hap from Boloxnia who came fifteenth in this years Eurovision have re-recorded their toe-tapping number "We Readily Devote Our Hearts To Our Supreme Leader".

Yet despite all this stuff, there are the gems that make the job so worthwhile. Whether it is discovering a new talent, or a new song from a favourite artist, or enjoying one of the increasing number of re-issues. Being stuck in your flat all day in your pants listening to tunes as the rain pours down outside takes some beating.