Another interview transcript from Russell Harty Plus, 1974. An absolute riot of an interview here with Frankie Howerd.
Russell Harty and Frankie Howerd, 1974
It’s so vivid you can practically hear it as you read… (screams of laughter)
Russell Harty Plus, 1974
Russell Harty Plus, 1974
Russell Harty Plus, 1974
Russell Harty Plus, 1974
Russell Harty Plus, 1974
Russell Harty Plus, 1974
Russell Harty Plus, 1974
Russell Harty Plus, 1974
Oh, isn’t the internet marvellous? It’s only just occurred to me that someone’s probably put all these Russell Harty interviews on Youtube, and of course they have. Here’s an edited version of the interview – I see the transcript took out a whole bit about Howerd’s house in Malta and it’s all a bit less screamy that I imagined.
Here you go, witness Russell’s strangely carpeted studio:
Did you know that Ken Dodd didn’t invent the Diddymen? Arthur Askey, another Liverpudlian comic, talked about them, treacle mines and all, in the early years of his act in the 1920s. But he didn’t invent them either, they’d been part of local folklore in this part of the country for much longer. I don’t have any more information about their origins though, I would love to know more.
Here’s a 1974 Arthur Askey interview from Russell Harty Plus, where he mentions the Diddymen and sounds ever so slightly ticked off that Ken Dodd was much more successful with them.
He was told when he went to London as a young comedian,
“We think you’re going to be very good, Arthur, but you must drop that Liverpool accent. You must get rid of your accent and you mustn’t talk about Diddy Men or jam butty factories or treacle mines.” Of course, Ken Dodd comes along thirty-odd years later and, through radio and television, they know what he’s talking about. But in those days I was doing missionary work, you know!”
Oh, and I like the sound of his untheatrical wife, who he claims had barely any idea of what he did for a living,
“My wife – I always used to say that she thought I was a burglar. She knew I went out at night to do something, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. When I got my O.B.E. (I must drag that in), I said to my wife: “Do come along to Buckingham Palace to see me get this.” And she said: “What time is it?” I said, “Half past ten”. She said: “I can’t go at half past ten. I’ve got my work to do. It’s all right for the Queen, she’s got staff.”
Christine McVie has recently rejoined Fleetwood Mac, and here’s a little post about her. The story of that band is like the quintessential story of a rock band, it’s got everything – early different band line up, fortuitous meetings, relationships, break-ups, drugs, fall outs, huge success and longevity against the odds. Plus, some damn good songs.
This is from the Pelham Pop Annual of 1970 (and the only year it was published as far as I can tell). Before Christine McVie married John McVie, she was Christine Perfect (her real name), a blues musician and member of the band Chicken Shack.
This is a lovely late 60s cool girl photo of her in a cafe, along with pics of other singers Marsha Hunt, Clodagh Rogers and Pat Arnold.
The 1970s are strangely tainted at the minute, as you don’t need me to tell you. “The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there,” said L. P. Hartley in The Go-Between (note, this is not J. R. Hartley of Fly Fishing fame). This seems fairly self evident of a century ago, but quite odd to think of the decade of my birth as belonging to such a different social landscape to now.
Oh, that’s wonderful!
Not that today’s book is the greatest example of such a gulf in attitudes, but still, things would be done differently today.
The Art of Drinksmanship is a book from 1975 that I refuse to believe is not in the personal library of Steph and Dom, the posh ones from Gogglebox. If you want to party 1970s style (er…) then this is the manual for you. I feel well disposed to this book largely because it sounds like an off-shoot of Stephen Potter’s Gamesmanship. The 1940s and 50s Gamesmanship, Oneupmanship, Lifemanship and Supermanship books are a must for the comedy lover, some of the funniest books I have read. In them, there are many forms of getting one over on someone else – gambits on how doctors can maintain superiority over their patients, how babies can employ “Babymanship” by wobbling their head alarmingly and worrying their parents, and how you can stay one up on your friends and colleagues in general. The proponent of these gambits is called the “Lifeman” and, therefore the reader of this book could be called the “Drinksman”. I do know one or two people who could genuinely hold that title – Simon Lawson, I’m looking at you.
The Art of Drinksmanship, 1975
There’s lots of colourful pictures of the many boozes of the world. What immediately struck me, though, was the answer to a perennial problem of mine – how to serve a lovely old bottle of Burgundy? I mean, now I see it, it’s obvious. A nice cut glass decanter and glasses, some rather indulgent pate….and a dead duck, artfully draped. It’s touching the decanter! It’s eyes are still weeping! Who came up with that idea?
1970s barmaid. There was a good reason for this picture, it was illustrating a very salient point that I seem to have forgotten.
The 1970s, there
Instructions on how to have a party, 1975-style. Can’t help thinking that jumpers-on-shoulders guy is feeling slightly awkward at this party. He’s come smart casual, everyone else is at a Moroccan orgy.
Party, 1975-style
Hangover cures. Basically – if you can hold of an oxygen canister, you’re laughing. I agree with it though, speaking as someone who is completely rubbish at drinking – loads of water is the key. When the party’s over
Despite the slightly jaw-dropping language (can you even imagine a “traditional” DIY book requesting its male readers put on their hunkiest overalls before they begin?) it’s all very “Go, girl!” *fist pump*
I can see this book being aimed at Mary Tyler Moore, the Liver Birds, all those swinging 70s ladies living in flats and feeling pretty damned independent in a way that was quite new to most women. And who apparently had right tits as brothers in law.
It’s written well, very clear and informative, and I feel slightly shamed by the fact that I actually do need to know most of this stuff. I am rubbish at DIY, but then I am a woman and confused by electricity. And this despite the fact that many years ago I was actually a DIY buyer for a shopping channel.
(I was also the Erotica buyer as it happens, but that’s a story for another day).
