Arriving at Sandown my alarm bells started to ring when I saw a family of 4 having a picnic in the car park. Now, at Ascot that is the norm, however at Sandown it's a bit of gravel with exhaust fumes blowing in your direction every 4 seconds!
Taking kids to the racing is also a great idea. They had such a fantastic time and could not take their eyes of the action!
My wife and I go through a morning and evening routine in the bedroom, this is called "bed making!"
We wake up and spend 10 minutes making the bed, fluffing up pillows, folding the duvet, putting on a throw and then come the bloody cushions, we arrange them, place them, rearrange them and stand back and look at them. We then leave the bedroom for a whole day, returning at night to throw all the cushions on the floor and sleep - then next morning the same routine takes place!
NOBODY see's the bloody cushions, why oh why do we need cushions? It's nothing less than a waste of time!
I decided to instill some culture into my child on Friday. No wait - that's not exactly true. My wife thought both my child and I needed educating and suggested (strongly) that a trip to the "Tate Modern" was in order - so off to London town we went.
On arrival at the Tate your breath is taken away by the sheer enormity of the entrance. Brick walls and a huge pathway make you feel truly insignificant and we made our way to the main entrance. I purchased a map for £1 and off we went.
Sorry, I just do not get it. And neither did my 8 year old. Hundreds of people staring at pictures contemplating the thought process and passion behind basically a 4 year old "messy time".
Someone please tell me - is this art?
No! This is a canvas painted red, it is not art!
This one must have taken hours.......
I decided to take a picture of what I thought was the best piece in the gallery. My daughter and I got the real giggles when a Japanese tourist and a very excitable American (sporting the American tourist look of: T-Shirt tucked into Chino shorts with white socks pulled up as far as they can go and trainers) who could not stop gasping at the brilliance of such a "Piece" entitled "Fire Exit"
Trust me, the people who visit such a gallery are without doubt taken by the pure brilliance, excitement, talent and flair of all on display!
Next to my local pub (which I never go to) is a hand car wash. The lads who drink in this establishment are the core of British society with a very mean sense of humour! The other day while taking my car through the hand car wash they decided to play a prank which was hysterical. One of the lads from the pub got his car, placed his mate in the boot, tied him up, put black thick tape across his mouth and closed the boot. He then drove his car through the wash and left it with the "Inside" cleaning team while he nipped back to the viewing point of the pub.
I watched from a distance and really laughed at 4 Polish lads go drip white when they opened the boot. The funniest thing about the whole of this prank is the "Inside" clean team merely shut the boot again and carried on cleaning the inside of the car, took the tenner off the bloke and let him drive away! Oh how I wish they had called the police and I had a video camera on me!
Working on the country's biggest shows such as The X Factor and Britain's Got Talent has no downside. I am privileged and honoured to be part of such an institution and am grateful on a daily basis for the opportunities I have been given - or as Steve Brookstien tweeted to me this week "Roycey you are just a show monkey".
The only slight problem with being part of these shows is that when you go anywhere, especially to a night when there is a singer singing, everyone thinks you can enhance their career and you are Simon Cowell. I am simply the warm up guy. I am not able in any way, shape or form help any singer with their battle for stardom and celebrity.
I was this week invited to a local cricket club to let the dog have a run, shit on the wicket, (I am sure this will send Piers into meltdown) and meet up with family. It was not mentioned by ANY of the family however that it was also "cabaret afternoon". I was reliably informed before departure that my Uncle Dennis spent most of the previous week telling anyone who would listen "my nephew from the X Factor is coming". This sent the club, the owner, the regulars and most importantly the "Frank Sinatra tribute act" into meltdown - so much so that "Frank" got so excited at this opportunity to sing in front of "the X Factor bloke" that he put his wife into his slot as an "extra bonus" singing "A tribute to Doris Day!"
On arrival a front row table had been reserved with my name on it:
Oh god, I just wanted to give the dog a run, catch up with family and go home, now I am a bloody V.I.P. I tried explaining that I am merely the warm up bloke, but it seemed my Uncle Dennis got a little carried away with my job description in his excitement and built up my part just a tad!
I was offered free drinks and a waitress - I was also reliably informed that never in the 125 year history of this club had this been offered to anyone, apart from Matt Lecon, who was the club president for 23 years. His special chair had also been brought out for me to sit in.
Sweet Jesus! This was quickly turning into a complete disaster. I gracefully declined the chair, table, front row seats, waitress and drinks and offered my table to "Dorothy" who had brought along with her a "Simon Cowell" squeaky dog bone for signing - which she and the other club members found hilarious. I was mortified! Kids had JLS T-shirts on, One Direction pictures, Leona albums, Alexandra posters and the one that made me howl with laughter (internally) a picture of Simon's driver taken outside of the X Factor studio!
Cabaret started with "Frank" coming on from an intro that went something like this"
"Ladies and Gentleman, honoured guests (audience clap loudly and look towards me), welcome to an afternoon of Frank Sinatra with a very special guest Doris Day. Please welcome live from Las Vegas (his Scoda with trailer for the PA was parked outside) the world famous super star that is Frank Sinatra." Oh Jesus mother of god, this guy actually thinks he is Frank!
I swear I thought I was the only bloke in the club as "Frank" then proceeded to sing every bloody song to me. As if this wasn't bad enough, the banter between songs was painful.
"I bet Simon would love to be here now". "Ladies and gentleman, do you think I should audition for Britain's Got Talent?" This was met with huge cheers! This was slowly turning into nothing less than car crash and I was hugely embarrassed!
The best however was yet to come. The arrival of the "Special Guest" then on walked "Doris Day".
Doris took to the stage like a seasoned pro and sang her heart out while walking among the crowd singing to them personally! The crowd at one point even started to dance and had made a real effort in getting dressed up for this amazing event:
I love black socks and trainers, such a look!
The singers, to be honest, were good value and I respect any artiste who gets up and entertains. It is after all a gift to entertain - it doesn't mean you have to be a "superstar" to achieve this goal, however, woe betide me should I ever forget the power of the shows I work on and the effect they have on peoples' lives or indeed how lucky and blessed I am to be part of them. These shows are watched by over 15 million people weekly, which is 14 million more than Piers Morgan has followers on twitter and 14,999,300 more people than bought Steve Brookstien's last record!
Have a fantastic week, I know this "Show Monkey" will!