Saturday, February 23, 2008

 
I forgot to do this yesterday.

Belated birthday greetings to Bruce Forsyth. 80 years young and still working. British television mainstay. Light entertainment legend.



Years and years ago my Mom went to see Brucie in cabaret. She was in the front row. A little plump woman in a black dress. She had had her hair done for the occasion. Of course Brucie spotted her and took the piss out of her all night.

("You just come from a funeral, love?" "Was the hairdresser's shut?" "Have you got any kids, love? You've got five?!? Do you need to lie down, love? Actually that's probably the last thing you need to do!")

According to my Aunt my Mom laughed and laughed and laughed.

At the end Brucie presented my Mom with a huge bouquet of flowers and kissed her on both cheeks.

Excellent. A legend.

(Interesting to note that when my Mom saw Barry Humphries/Dame Edna Everage, a couple of years later, very much the same thing happened. My Mom must have one of those faces.)

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Comments:
That's a lovely story about your mum, but I think Brucie is a cantankerous, miserable old w*nker. I've never liked him, and I bet that if you met him in the street, he'd be a right bastard.
 
You might well be right. You should never mistake the public persona as reflecting the private individual.

"Nice to see you, to see you nice!"
 
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