Tony Klinger

Normally I write a post, check it carefully, and then post it onto this site for you to read. Sometimes, like the professional I try to be, I work a little ahead of the curve, maybe a week or so. There are days when something happens and you feel a real need to write about it immediately. Today this happened. So, please forgive me for writing this on the hoof, with no pause for checking it over before I rush to my next appointment, which, ironically I shall shortly be writing about shortly.

It’s easy to tell when it’s summer in England. Not because of the fabulous weather, although, admittedly it is great at present, no, because the television and general news goes into silly season mode.

This morning was a perfect example.  On the BBC they featured someone who looked about 15, who was a pretty teenage girl from the States. Her claim to fame is that she’s in a film, the name of which doesn’t matter, as I don’t intend to collaborate with the film distribution company’s silly marketing plan. Oh, and she’s the niece of Julia Roberts. Imagine the delight of being closely related to those winning teeth, unbridled joy! The level of the interview was banal with a capital B. An example, “What was it like learning to play lacrosse for the film?” from the poor interviewer, “It was (giggle giggle) like awesome, like I asked them where the pads were, you know the protective clothing, and all they gave me was a tooth guard.” Personally I wouldn’t have given her even this rudimentary safety device. From this peak the interview actually went downhill.

In desperation I switched to GMTV. On their sofa sat a child called George something. He looks about 12 or 13 and, from the clips they showed, dances well enough to have won a TV talent contest. From this starting point the GMTV interviewer attempted to craft some kind of chat. It soon degenerated into him asking little George how he got on with everyone on the tour bus, “Yes, it was great, I got on with everyone on the tour bus, it was really great!” undaunted the interviewer, by now with his director probably screaming down his unseen earphone, “GET ME SOME INFORMATION!!” asked, “but was there anyone in particular you got on with?” George looked blank for a moment, as he had probably not been briefed for such complex questions by the expensive PR person no doubt lurking just out of camera shot, then he brightened as a thought came to that capacious brain, “I liked Steve, him and me are good mates, but I got on with everyone, even the drivers and us, we all got on, they all came back and we all got on, not when they were driving like..”

Now, I am prepared to admit that I don’t have an exact transcript of these riveting exchanges, but they are, I am willing to bet, pretty accurate. If I had to have them inflicted on my I can’t see why you should not share their wit.

I was left shaking my head in despair, wondering when such things will ever end, and then it dawned on me; perhaps the stupidity had been a little contagious, it is the summer holiday and everyone, including the TV stations are catering for the kids on their break. If we all clubbed together and sent all the kids somewhere like a giant Butlins where they could go, splash around and be entertained we could resume being grown ups!