Down to Hyde Park this evening for the ITV Summer Party. It's the first time I've been invited to this event, even though I actually did an ITV show last year and haven't done one this year, but perhaps the invitation can be seen as a positive sign that something might just possibly be in the offing. Probably not. But just in case I had to go and show my face. Plus there would be free canapes and champagne and lots of celebs there to stare at. How could I resist?
The party was in the Orangery in the middle of the park. I came on the tube and had to walk to the venue, but by the constant stream of taxis and posh cars going back and forth beside me as I trudged, I would say I was almost the only one to arrive on foot. Which gives an accurate representation of my status.
I was worried I wouldn't know anyone and would be leaving almost immediately, but there were a smattering of familiar faces amongst the other familiar faces. But the former familiar faces belonged to people I personally knew, whilst the other familiar faces were just faces I had seen on TV.
It was jam packed with some of the country's favourite entertainers. If some insane fan or extremist terrorist had decided to stand on the orangery with a machine gun they could have changed the face of British broadcasting. I don't want to give anyone ideas, but it would certainly get a whole lot of publicity for whatever nutty cause you were hoping to promote. Or just to show the world how they should have been nicer to you. David Jason, Chris Tarrant, Al Murray, Amanda Holden and the bloke who does the voice of Nick Clegg on Headcases were all there (but how would anyone know whether the impression is accurate?). These people can't be replaced. Apart from the man who does the Nick Clegg impression, as his role can be taken by anyone who is able to sound like he has the voice of a man.
I spoke to Duncan Ballantyne from Dragon's Den and couldn't resist starting the conversation by saying, "I've got this really good idea for an invention..." That's why I should not be allowed to come to these things. Because I can't resist. Someone offered me money to go up to David Jason and call him a plonker. But I thought that I would probably be told to leave the party and never try to get anything I ever do on any kind of television ever again. So I just said it quietly too far away for David Jason to hear.
Luckily I managed not to embarrass myself too much, even though I drank more than I have been used to and my champagne glass was constantly topped up and then drained and then topped up, like a magical never ending glass.
But I am glad that still, a good 18 years into my professional career I have still not got over the childish need to be both in awe of and to mock the proper celebrities. Al Murray was all cool and comfortable, talking to Gene Hunt off of "Life on Mars". I just wanted to go up to him and say, "I really liked Life on Mars" and the leave an uncomfortable pause where he might have hoped to hear "and Ashes to Ashes", but the gap would remain empty, until I might well have just gone up to him and said, "I really didn't like Ashes to Ashes".
I don't think I will ever get over this immaturity, but then I think all the people who are behaving in a proper and respectful fashion still have a childish voice inside them going, "Look, it's Big Suze from Peep Show. But in real life. I wish I could shout "Big Suze" at her." They just choose to ignore it, for fear of looking foolish and losing their work. I manage to mainly ignore the voice in my head, but still don't even have a veneer of cool.
I had fun though and I met Dec from Ant and Dec, who reminisced about being on Fist of Fun and jokingly thanked me for his big break. He was as charming and modest as he had been the last time I had met him, before he became and incredibly successful millionaire, but weirdly I felt I was imposing on his celebrity time and made my excuses and moved on. Even though I know celebrity is a transitory and ephemeral thing and doesn't mean anything, I am still slightly genuinely in its awe.
I got drunk and then walked back up the driveway with Will Smith. The English Will Smith. The other one probably doesn't get the tube home from these kinds of thing.
And nor do I.
I got the bus.
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Lucy Porter's "The Good Life". Please buy it and help keep these Welsh misfits in business so they can release even more of their crazy DVDs.