Quote Of The Day

"Victory goes to the player who makes the next-to-last mistake - Chessmaster Savielly Grigorievitch Tartakower (1887-1956)"

Monday, February 12, 2018

Ayres on the Air: My 82 yr old mum asked me, "So how was Pam Ayres last Saturday?" "Great, mum. She was great" "So there's life in the ol' gal yet then" LOL @PamAyres

On Saturday night Stuart and I found ourselves at the BBC Radio Theatre in London's glitzy West End waiting for ever-wonderful Pam Ayres to perform.

She was recording her latest series of Pam Ayres on the Air - an half hour BBC Radio Four show combining sketches, monologues and the inevitable and ever-welcome poetry. We witnessed a double recording of two shows entitled 'Holidays' and 'Grandparents'.

I have to say she was superb. Full of great anecdotes - very funny. I'd not see Stu laugh so much in ages.

Aside from the comedy at the front it was the audience that made us giggle too. All crusty old Radio Four demographics, mainly in couples who would be constantly producing hankies from sleeves and whisper to their partners about how cold it was... or how hot it was... or how long we had to queue... So very British.

The radio show should be broadcast in the Spring. So in the meantime here is one of her new ones and one of her (and my) favorites:-


You wonder what the Martians think we're sharing,
When a Tesla car with David Bowie blaring,
Comes revolving through your sky,
With the volume turned up high,
And you might find Elon Musk a little wearing.

Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth

Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth,
And spotted the dangers beneath
All the toffees I chewed,
And the sweet sticky food.
Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth.

I wish I’d been that much more willin’
When I had more tooth there than fillin’
To give up gobstoppers,
From respect to me choppers,
And to buy something else with me shillin’.

When I think of the lollies I licked
And the liquorice allsorts I picked,
Sherbet dabs, big and little,
All that hard peanut brittle,
My conscience gets horribly pricked.

My mother, she told me no end,
‘If you got a tooth, you got a friend.’
I was young then, and careless,
My toothbrush was hairless,
I never had much time to spend.

Oh I showed them the toothpaste all right,
I flashed it about late at night,
But up-and-down brushin’
And pokin’ and fussin’
Didn’t seem worth the time – I could bite!

If I’d known I was paving the way
To cavities, caps and decay,
The murder of fillin’s,
Injections and drillin’s,
I’d have thrown all me sherbet away.

So I lie in the old dentist’s chair,
And I gaze up his nose in despair,
And his drill it do whine
In these molars of mine.
‘Two amalgam,’ he’ll say, ‘for in there.’

How I laughed at my mother’s false teeth,
As they foamed in the waters beneath.
But now comes the reckonin’
It’s me they are beckonin’
Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth.

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