Dead. Funny.

Warming Ups about two lamented greats

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RHLSTP Book Clubs are a real pleasure for me (and luckily it's only my opinion that matters) and I am getting to spend time in the company of some fantastic writers and folk who have lived interesting lives. Tomorrow I am chatting to Yvonne Innes, the wife of the 7th Python and 14th Beatle and 1st Neil Innes, Neil Innes. She's written the biography of Neil that he never got to write, which not only reminded me of quite how rich his career was and how creative he was over those 5 decades, but also gives a portrait of their love story and what it's like to be the spouse of someone as unique as Neil. I have to say Yvonne is fascinating and funny in her own right and as the chapter about Neil's death particularly shows, a very fine writer. It's heartbreaking stuff in the end (as all lives must be), but the book is all about creativity, hope, living on through your work and caring more about people than notional ideas of success. The pair had mainly bad fortune with legal cases about ownership of ideas and songs (mainly because they didn't have the clout or cash to stand up to those who they needed to) but Neil did at least get paid by Oasis who inadvertently or advertently ripped off "How Sweet To Be An Idiot".

As a comedy fan who was in awe of Python, I was of course in awe of Innes, without at the time knowing much of anything about the Bonzos or the Grimms or even Rutland Weekend Television (though of course I loved the Rutles). I knew him from his appearance on a Monty Python album singing Idiot - which I knew was different from most comedy songs and loved it as a result "Hey you, you're such a pedant. You've got as much brains as a dead ant, as much imagination as a caravan site." He still felt like a secret in spite of this high profile, and one of my favourite earlyish comedy memories is watching The Innes Book of Records with my brother. I would have been 11 when it started, but already hoovering up all comedy I could get into, but my brother was 17 or 18 and understood that this programme was cooler than the others and I pretended to be as sophisticated. It was so visual and rich with ideas and looks like a production of Cabaret crossed with an edition of Nationwide and I am surprised it was only shown once as some of the songs have stuck in my mind for years - I sing the chorus of Chalk and Cheese about once a year. I found the first episode on Youtube and it's well worth a look. I suspect they're all up there somewhere.

I love how it's all filmed guerilla style in the middle of places where there are members of the public milling around. It's apparently why it's not been released on DVD or download becuase of clearance issues, but that seems like a poor excuse. None of those people will recognise themselves now (mainly cos many of them are surely dead) and if they do they will be delighted to see themselves.

I had always thought that I'd get Neil on RHLSTP, but as with a few people now I left it to late to put in the request and I know from this book that he'd have been the most fabulous of guests. I did meet him once, as I got out of a cab in Melbourne, he asked the driver if the cab was free. I thought that I'd been my usual self and been too shy to say hello or tell him how great I thought he was, but the blog remembers better and I did engage with him briefly.

The book is well worth a look and so is his back catalogue.

He's my favourite type of performer, or maybe the one I identify with most, who keeps going, keeps reinventing, keeps trying new things and doesn't care too much whether they're performing to hundreds or dozens or ones. And Yvonne's stories of budget hotels, selling your own merch and greedy venues wanting 20% of said merch, even though that means they'll make more out of it than you (merch is not free to the performer) resonated too.

It's a shame he wasn't given the credit or money he deserved for some of his more famous projects, but equally I am glad he spent his time having fun with friends rather than chasing grudges.

Here's Chalk and Cheese, which has stuck with me after one viewing 45 years ago. Nice to see it again. Hopefully it will stick with you for 45 years too.

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My resolution to outlive everyone who has ever been a guest on RHLSTP got one step further today as we lost another absolute diamond, the lovely Tony Slattery. When he did RHLSTP in Edinburgh in 2019 I was a bit nervous that it might go a bit pear-shaped, but it was one of the more magical ones I've done and Tony was honest and open and it felt like he was getting his life back together. Horrible show business had given him everything he could dream of when he was a hot property and then dumped him as soon as things took a turn. And yet he stayed so resolutely upbeat and encouraging and kind.

It's just terribly sad that he's been taken before this third act could play out.

You can listen to his RHLSTP here.

I'd spent the morning mourning another unique talent, Neil Innes, as I recorded the chat with Yvonne. If Neil and Tony can die does that mean that one day I will be dead too? Surely not. Can't see it happening.

I finally had my stained teeth cleaned by a relentless hygienist. It's only about three months since I'd seen a colleague of hers so I don't know why my teeth were so mottled - she seemed to think it looked like years of accrued build up, but I'd been to this practice to have them scraped several times in the last couple of years. It's almost like hygienists are a scam and that the last one had deliberately made my teeth as dirty as possible so that they could charge me double next time. They did get dirty almost immediately. Is it possible that every time they just take off a layer of enamel so your teeth get weakened or put on some kind of invisible stain magnet. I noticed in last year's RHLSTP pics how awful my teeth were looking.

I initially thought it was some trick of the light or fault with the camera, but no, I had teeth like I was in a sketch about medieval peasants and had managed to contrive to get them looking that way within days of my last intense clean. Coincidence?

Indeed she told me it would take two sessions to clean them properly and that I'd have to come back, but then suddenly decided she could extend the appointment to an hour (in truth it lasted about 40 minutes, but she still got double bubble) and I paid extra to have my teeth basically sand-blasted, but it did get them back to some semblance of the original horrible yellowy colour and I decided I would never eat anything again so that they would stay all sparkly and nice. It's an incredible difference. Just as it would be if a decorator threw excrement all over your walls and then took it off again and charged you for both procedures.

When I've done those lottery podcasts I have said that if I had millions I would build a dental suite on my house and employ a full time hygienist to clean my teeth every day, mainly because I absolutely hate the scratchy, shrieky drill thing they use to chip the crap off which also jangles my nerves (the air blaster doesn't hurt hardly at all and I thought when I paid for that that I wouldn't have to have my teeth scraped too, but she just did both).

Obviously I would only use the hygienist for four minutes a day and she'd probably only need to brush my teeth (or he, though all the hygienists I've ever had have been women). Then I'd just let people come and have their teeth cleaned for free for the rest of the day. Imagine how much people would love the eccentric millionaire who gave away free teeth cleans. And also wonder why he didn't do something more constructive with his money. Before deciding not to say anything as it was saving them about £200 a year to use the service.

Probably more people would want to use it than one hygienist could cope with, so I'd have to build another room and hire another hygienist. It could go on forever. And I guess I should have one of the hygienists on call at all times in case I got something caught in my teeth and needed it taken out.

Some people would hire a personal doctor, but not me. Anything to avoid tooth troubles down the line. Though I suspect hygienists only take this job because they love torturing people and jangling their nerves and making them spit out blood, so I might not be able to get someone to just brush my teeth whatever fee I was offering.

Anyway, that's for when I've won the Euromillions. Until then I will fastidiously brush and floss my teeth for the first week after every dental appointment and then go back to brushing them for 30 seconds three times a week, as usual.

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