And what was No.1 when I emerged into a back bedroom in London NW2? A week earlier, it would have been Elvis. A week later, Ray Charles. But no, Pick of the Pops that week was this “humorous” ditty by an unknown cockney actor called Mike Sarne, accompanied by a young Wendy Richard who was already sounding as stroppy and miserable as Pauline Fowler. It isn’t a “classic”, it isn’t “timeless”, it’s dreadful. But Mike and Wendy evoke the time and place of my birth perfectly – in a way neither Elvis or Ray Charles ever could. And isn’t that what a birthday record should do?
Today is my birthday…..

- Going out ton...20th Jun 2014
- Could Dave Be...19th Jun 2014
- To Pellicci's...18th Jun 2014
- Is this the r...16th Jun 2014
- It's father's...15th Jun 2014
- For so many r...14th Jun 2014
- Friday the 13...13th Jun 2014
- Always hailed...12th Jun 2014
- Back to Burnt...11th Jun 2014
- He's 93!!10th Jun 2014
- RIP RIk Mayall.9th Jun 2014
- My wife think...8th Jun 2014
- I seldom feel...7th Jun 2014
- It's the 70th...6th Jun 2014
- I'm wearing w...5th Jun 2014 prev next