Thursday 12th March 2009, 23:16

Nice Celebs vs Nasty Celebs, pt III

The latest version...


NICE CELEBS:

Louise Redknapp x 2 ("offered to pay for a cab for me" and "Bumped into her in Selfridges and she advised me on the jeans I was thinking of buying.")

Eddie Izzard x 2

Maureen Lipman

Michael Praed

David Tennant

Henry Kelly (genuine, friendly, down-to-earth and speaks his mind in a refreshingly non-cosy way that you don't get from his radio shows)

Benicio del Toro (nice to staff when he stays in hotels over here, goes above and beyond to be nice to people)

Peter Andre ("I'm not even joking. Genuinely extremely nice bloke.")

George Clooney (blagged a passerby onto the set of ER, genuinely lovely - of course that was years ago so he's probably changed...)

Eric Clapton

Julie Walters

Mike Rutherford from Genesis

Ewan McGregor

Dawn French

Chris Botti

Clark Terry

Ray Quinn

Lynda La Plante ("lovely, lovely, lovely")

Stephen Fry ("a delight in person")

Judi Dench

Maggie Smith

Christopher Lambert

Paul McCartney (2 votes to 1) ("lovely fella, tipped a cabby plenty" + "met him at numerous events and he's just lovely" vs "arrogant, uncooperative, jobsworth")

Chris Langham (helped a stranger on a train prepare for a scriptwriting exam)

David Attenborough ("lovely, if a little grumpy - his rider was a ham sandwich and a Mars bar")

Katherine Hepburn ("I sold her a coat, some gloves and some slippers. She was delightful, chatty, asking about me etc. She sent a letter to the owners to say how great I had been")

Lauren Bacall ("bought some slippers and gloves as Christmas presents and was very pleasant")

Leonard Cohen ("bought a coat; asked about me, and was very pleasant to wait on")

David Gilmour ("charming lovely chap and who, unlike most other musicians at this event, did not stare at my tits during a conversation")

Jarvis Cocker ("Very sweet, and he kindly helped me with my bags onto the Eurostar train, holding doors for me as we went. like a real gentleman.")

Girls Aloud ("I was prepared for divas x 5 but was pleasantly surprised when they were friendly, chatty and sat and had lunch with the crew and I.")

Heather Small from M People ("let me go in front of her at the check out in Tescos, Edgeware Road.")

Joe Pasquale ("helpful and friendly")

And & Dec ("exactly as they come across on telly")

Annie Lennox

Jonathan Ross

Liberty X ("lovely")

Derek Jacobi ("Most pleasant person at the Critics Choice Theatre Award - had more time to chat than anyone else there")


A DRAW:

Richard E Grant ("ran away from me at Waterloo station" vs "lovely, very chatty")

... - can anyone verify one way or the other


NASTY CELEBS:

Elaine Paige x 2

Jim Davidson (total sleaze)

Timmy Mallett (demanding more money on the night of a charity gig)

Lesley Joseph

Stella McCartney

Chico

Rodney Marsh

Bucks Fizz (prima donnas at a festival, getting other performers to move stuff around for them)

John Leslie

Ian Hislop ("Not nasty, just rude")

Vicki Michelle ("just won't maintain eye contact")

Paul Daniels ("miniature and self-obsessed")

Aled Jones ("we asked him to take part in a celeb based competition on our radio show, loads of celebs had done it and he worked for the same radio group but still refused")

Chris De Burgh

Chas and Dave ("Would not be interviewed if we wanted them to play live EVEN THOUGH we were going to have them on the same show as Suzanne Vega and she was up for singing with them")

Patsy Palmer

Alexei Sayle


Thursday 5th March 2009, 23:17

A downright frustrating upright

I'll post an update on the nice/nasty celebs list in the next blog, but for now, some advice for if you ever need to hire a piano moving company...


I needed to move a piano. Hence me calling a piano movers. Not being an everyday task, I didn't quite know where to begin, or how much the going rate is (it's about £100, it seems, maybe a bit under). But I found a nice website detailing lots of local piano movers, so I fired out some emails asking for quotes and if they were available soon. Left it for a day, as not too many "man with a van"s - (or is it "men with vans"? But that doesn't keep the same rhyming fun that "man with a van" has. Anyway...) - not too many with "men with ven" are sat around on the internet all day. They're off moving things.


A day later, a phone call. Huzzah. Yes, he can move it on Tuesday. Ace. Tuesday comes and the phone rings again. Now he's saying he can do it on Wednesday. Fair dos. Later on Tuesday afternoon, phone rings again. Now he's saying Tuesday again. I sigh. Make your mind up, I think to myself. Then he calls again. More like Thursday now. Alright, I say, angrily, Thursday it is. See you then. Ten minutes later, a big van arrives. But it's Tuesday, I think, and he just said Thursoh hang on.


Do you see what's happened? I've been an idiot, that's what's happened. And all those piano movers I got in touch with asking for quotes, they've all got back in touch and I inadvertently have booked them all. Well they all sounded the same - like burly geezer men. You don't get many wee Scottish women moving pianos. It's 'man with a van' not 'gran with a transit'. So an easy mistake to make. Only handy thing is that they all couldn't do the same day, otherwise I'd get the embarrassment of having three big vans arriving at once - and more importantly three big men - and having to explain that two weren't needed, cos (s) I'm an idiot and (b) I've only got one piano.


So a few awkward phone calls later, I'd cancelled the others and stuck with the fella who had turned up, who reluctantly accepted the fee that I insisted he'd quoted, while actually of course it was someone else entirely.


He and his mate loaded up the piano onto his van - quite impressive the rollers and pulleys they've got to do it, and mine was an easy job. They were telling me about the grand pianos they've had to airlift in to some buildings. Some buildings I guess it's easier to put the piano in first, then build the building around it.


Once the piano was out of my front door, I left them to their loading and raced on ahead to get to the house it was being taken to, so I could clear the way for them to put it in its new home. They said they'd be another ten minutes fastening the piano's seatbelt, so I figured that would give me plenty of time to get from A to B. But not reckoning on rush hour, I was amazed to see only five minutes later the same van overtake me. How rude. There was no point them getting there before me, AND they said they'd be ages yet, so suddenly I had to cut up, overtake, and do what I could to overtake this van. This was helped by me being in a van too (my car being serviced, so my dad had lent me his work van). There was a good few minutes of White Van vs White Van on the Guildford one-way system then, as at every traffic light I raced to jump in front of the movers in the next-door lane, and they, not knowing it was me in the van, and ever-keen to cut up another white van, tried to do likewise.


I won, incidentally. But I didn't like the look on his face when he got to the other end and realised the driver of the rival van was me. Still, it was probably better than the look on the faces of every other piano mover I'd contacted, all sat at home cursing that they'd said Thursday and not Tuesday, and lost out on a job, or at least a third of a job.


Wednesday 25th February 2009, 23:17

Post-Oscar thoughts from a layman

I didn't watch the Oscars live, as I have not Sky, but I did find that this year within a day you can watch most of them on youtube. I didn't watch the lot (by the time you get to Best Editing, you think the Best Editor would have been the person who trimmed the show to under an hour and a half), but some notes of point:


- Hugh Jackman was an excellent host. I didn't expect good things, being a fan as I am of comedians, but he proved that when it comes to the Oscars, light-ent is the tone of the day, rather than scathing wit. He had a few funnies, granted, but Huge Ackman's main skill is song-and-dance (and looking hot for the laydeez), and he sang-and-danced his way through some great musical medleys. Having said that, the best musical medleys were always done by Billy Crystal, so I like to think we haven't seen the last of him as host...


- I quite liked the idea of 5 previous winners of each acting category toasting the present nominees. It was a bit cheesy - great actor of yore talks directly to current flavour of the month in glowing terms, sounding sincere and improvised - but it did give all the nominees a chance to have their 'moment', rather than just making do with a sour face and faking being pleased for whoever did win. Plus it was just plain pretty cool to see 20 balls-out great actors lining the stage in 5-part chunks. I liked seeing the montages of loads of old winners giving their speeches too.


- Man On Wire man balancing his Oscar on his chin. Nice.


- No Mickey Rourke win (and therefore speech)? Boo. Get on youtube and search for his acceptance speech at the Spirit Awards the day before. He funny. And he rude.


- Ben Stiller sticking it to Joaquin Phoenix. Harsh, but quite funny. Bewildering if you haven't seen Phoenix on Letterman, so youtube that first. (Is 'youtube' a verb?)


- Tina Fey and Steve Martin. Very funny. Far funnier than anything in either Baby Mama or The Pink Panther 2.


- A good night for Brits. Slumdog taking 8 Oscars - the deserved winner. The other Best Picture nominees were great too but Button dragged a little, Milk was a bit too worthy and political, Frost/Nixon was cracking but didn't have the layers of Slumdog, The Reader didn't quite have the heart to it I'd have liked. There. It nearly sounded like I knew what I was talking about.


- They should really show it on the BBC. And hold it in the afternoon so it's not on at 4am our time.


- More Oscarian thoughts on me Movie Banter podcast in a day or two when episode 16 appears on itunes...


Thursday 19th February 2009, 01:17

French Onion Soup (V)... (V for 'very meaty')

Went for a belated Valentine's meal tonight at a nice eaterie nearby - The Inn on the Lake. Never been before but was reliably tipped off to its niceties. Great atmosphere, attentive staff, menu looked good, so ordered a nice-sounding French onion soup with cheesy bread for starters. Love a bit of it.


It arrived, greener than expected. And less croutony. Granted, there were bits in it, but the bits looked a bit more bacony than bread-like. I slurped, and nice as it was, it didn't smack of onions, let alone French ones. The waitress asked if everything was okay, and so, although not one to normally query, I did ask if this was definitely French onion soup. "Yes," she replied. "Our chef prepares it in an unusual style. The colour and texture is achieved by adding a little more cream than usual. But I promise you it is definitely French onion soup."


Hmm. You add cream to soup and it becomes green and full of gammon? Not sure about this. But she gave me her word it was French onion soup, so on I ate. Past the leeks, through the potatoes, into the ham, never once troubling across either onion or this cheesy bread I was promised.


Five minutes later, I'd just finished when a couple were seated at the next table by a new waiter. "Here are the specials," he said. "Only we have run out of French onion soup, I'm afraid. It's now leek, ham and potato."


Oh you massive moron. We looked over at our waitress, and saw her looking a little ashamed and now serving in the other side of the restaurant. Sure enough, this new waiter was allocated to our table too. That waitress had dug such an enormous hole by swearing blind that a blatant leek-and-ham soup was French onion that she had switched sides of the restaurant with this other guy for the shame of serving us again. How can you barefacedly look a customer in the eye and tell him that those lumps of ham he sees in his bowl is actually a very pink (and presumably vegetarian) crouton?


Anyway, that aside, good meal. I was just waiting for a lasagne to arrive for main course so I could ask her where my fish and chips was. "Oh no, that is fish and chips. The beer-batter that chef uses is very bechamel-saucy. Complements those mince-looking chips you've got there underneath..."


Monday 16th February 2009, 18:17

Table for one, near a plug socket if you've got one...

During a weekend of gigs in Liverpool (lovely, thanks), it happed to be Valentine's Day, or more importantly, Valentine's Night, around dinnertime. I'm on a no-takeaway rule till after I'm married, so I had to force myself to sit down and have a proper meal somewhere. No mean feat on Valentine's night, with most places having special menus promising a three-course dinner for £40. So I drove to find a chain - Harvester, Beefeater, Berni Inn (do they exist any more?). Cheap, cheerful, and not too Valentinian.


Toby Carvery was what I settled on, out towards Knotty Ash in the 'burbs of the 'pool. Nice place, £7 for a roast (£5 if I'd got there ten minutes earlier - pah), lovely heaped plateful (which probably makes a mockery of my no-takeaway rule). Only yes, it was still chockful of Valentining couples. Just cheaper ones than you'd find in the city centre.


I feared not though. I was up on business and had to eat somewhere, so I sat there, took out my laptop, and thought I'd get some work done. Then I thought again and decided to put a film on to keep me amused during my dinner. Bought that day from ever-emptying store Zavvi were Short Cuts (a fine film I've seen before and loved) and From Here To Eternity (never seen it, always wanted to, and it's set against Pearl Harbor, so I was interested to see it to bung it on my Movie Timeline website). So I chose the latter, and tucked into a good meal and a good movie.


Bless 'em though, the waiters and waitresses flocked around me throwing puppy-dog looks my way (more correctly, puppy-dog-owners' looks), all feeling very sorry for this poor guy who's decided to come out on Valentine's night, surround himself with couples, and instead of a partner, set up one of the classic romantic movies (From Here To Eternity is the one with the couple embracing on a beach while waves splash against them...).


They didn't know I was up doing a gig for the weekend, and I reckon genuinely thought I do this every Valentine's Day, probably in tribute to a lost love who used to love the film, or something equally slushy and tragic. Bless their Scouse sentimentality. It was like being surrounded by ten Jean Bohts from Bread (except the nice version of her when she's hugging her kids, not yelling at Lilo-Lil).