Mr (or Mrs) Big Shot!

Back in the twentieth century I was asked to host a show in Devon. It was at the Babbacombe Theatre and that was exciting to me because I saw my first ever summer season show there when I was maybe 9 years old. That show starred the delightful Irish singer Dana. For reasons that’ll become oh so apparent I can’t tell you who the star of this show was other than to say he (or she) was not delightful. Or Irish.

Initially I wasn’t too excited about the show. Back then I was doing a radio show on Capital Gold with Bradley Walsh. We had had a very successful week covering for Mike Osman’s daily Breakfast Show and as a result we’d secured the position of regular back up presenters and as a bonus we’d been given a permanent slot at the weekend. Earlier in that year we covered for Mike for two weeks, Monday to Saturday 6am to 10am, as well as our regular Sunday morning. On the second Thursday of that run, a call  from my then agent, the legendary Wally Dent, was ‘taken’. It’s in inverted commas because I was half asleep. For eleven consecutive mornings I had woken at 3am to make my way to the studios. I was more than sleepy but when I fully woke from my slumber I noticed some notes on the pad next to the phone.

Torquay. Saturday. £100.

I called Wally, confused, and he told me I would be hosting a summer show in Devon, every Saturday for ten weeks. 

I asked him why he’d negotiated with my sister (Jane and I shared a house back in those days) and he told me he hadn’t.

“I made the deal with you Paul, about an hour ago!”

“Not possible.” I said, “I was asleep an hour ago!”

A couple of months later I was driving to Babbacombe at the crack of dawn for a noon call to rehearse. Upon arrival I met the ‘star’. Not directly, he was too busy berating the crew to notice little old me. We plodded through the tech run and my hosting duties which, and this won’t surprise you, included introducing each act in turn as well as a nice twenty minute spot to myself at the end of the first half.

Before my spot the ‘star’ told me to plug his (or her) CDs when I finished my spot. 

I forgot.

Not deliberately, I’d had a lot of fun and was concerned about over running and I knew I’d have other opportunities the bring any merchandise to the attention of the crowd.

In the wings I was greeted with a poke, lots of pokes, into my chest. In fact seven pokes. One for each syllable the ‘star’ used.

“You. Didn’t. Plug. My. CDs!”

I am often complimented on my speed of thought but this time I surprised even myself.

I walked back out onto the stage and called back every member of that audience, even those daring to go into the foyer for refreshment.

They came back because I’d been funny. They liked me. They were keen to know what more I had to say.

“I am so sorry. I forgot to tell you something. Something very important.”

Now I can’t use this ‘star’s’ name because that just wouldn’t be nice. Maybe if this blog gets enough attention….No, I can’t. I won’t but for the benefit of this blog I need to give him (or her) a name.

“Mr (or Mrs) Big Time has some CDs for sale and you can buy them now, during the interval. He (or she) wanted me to let you know that. Even though you’ve not seen their show yet they want me to tell you to buy their CD, now!”

I started to leave the stage only to stop…

“Or…” I continued, “Maybe buy a CD now, as requested, then go home and listen to it in the car. Get yourself home early, save some money on the baby sitter, maybe enjoy Match of the Day. Yeah, that’s a better idea isn’t it?”

I walked towards the wings with laughter in my ears, only to stop one more time and, not happy that I’d reached the line, I had now decided I had to cross it.

“Wait. Here’s an even better idea. Don’t buy the CD. But still go home early only on the drive back if you pass a petrol station pop in, they usually have a huge basket full of old CDs they’re desperately trying to get rid of and I would bet you’ll find Mr (or Mrs) Big Time’s CD in one of those baskets and it’ll be cheaper than the one in the foyer for sure. You’re welcome.”

Huge laughs. I did have some apprehension as to how the ‘star’ would react. Surely anger was warranted. I needn’t have worried though. Once in the wings I was greeted with a huge showbiz smile and two words.

“Thank you!”