Two More Gud Uns Down

A sad week in many ways, as the deaths of TV artist Tony Hart and BBC sport´s Mr. Smooth, David Vine were announced. This on the back of the demise of Oliver Postgate, (the creater and voice of The Clangers, Pogles Wood, and Noggin the Nog) last month, wipes out half of my entire childhood.
From early toddlehood and into my teens these three engaging characters played a big part in my life. “Vision On” was presented with a woman with a severe nervous twitch, or so it seemed to me, - it was some time, (as it was never clearly explained), before I realized the programme was aimed at deaf children and the “twitch” was actually sign language. The main protagonists of this programme were a mad professor type chap with a performing ginger tache called Wilf Lunn and the convivial Mr. Hart. Whether he be constructing a 180ft picture of a tractor on the Sussex hillside with a wheelbarrow full of matt emulsion or making prints in the studio using nothing but a half of a potato dipped in carrot juice, I found it spellbinding – he was the greatest Blue Peter presenter they never had – though interestingly he designed the logo for the programme! (That blue galleon ship thing). Also, I think he came runner up to Nicholas Parsons for the “continual wearer of a cravat on British television” category on the BAFTA awards in the early nineties.
Being a sports nut, David Vine was in our front room most days of the week, I particularly remember A Question Of sport in the halcyon days before they turned it into the class B situation comedy of later years, also he presented Superstars whereby sporting heroes of the day performed in sports in which they were less adept. As much as I loved this programme, in subsequent conversations I´ve had with fellow admirers, the only events anybody can remember is Judo man Bryan Jacks doing the “bar-dips” in the gym, some pole vaulter whom nobody had previously heard called Brian Hooper, being good at everything and Kevin Keegan falling off his bike. There was also boxer Alan Minter rowing into the rhododendrons in his kayak, but actually it is only me who can recall this classic. David Vine also presented the snooker, another great love of mine. And I remember thinking that he was lucky not to get Steve Davis´s cue rammed up his trouser leg when he stuck a microphone under his nose about 3 seconds after he´d just missed a simple black and thus handed Dennis Taylor the title of 1985 World Champion. He seemed to crop up on everything I watched including Wimbledon, The Olympics and Miss World, although he made a bit of an arse of himself on that by not understanding anything the contestants were saying to him. Subsequently Michael Aspel took over the role and fared much better – probably by insisting that they spoke English.

The Magic Of The Three Kings

Well, the Christmas festivities just go on and on and on, and the shops are shut again. Today is ‘Three Kings Day’ the morning of which, so tradition dictates, all good children of Spain wake up to their presents as left by the gentlemen from the east. It must be great therefore to be a kid over here having it drag on for so long, it begs the question however just who do Spanish kids think Father Christmas is? I mean he crops up on every advert, film and festive song for at least a month, - so just who do they think he is?? When I posed this question to girlfriend Nikki, (who is half Spanish) a couple of years ago, without missing a beat she says ‘Just some fat bastard from the north’. So that ends that debate then.
As it happens I was listening to a programme on Radio 4 a couple of weeks ago and according to the bible there is no mention whatsoever of ‘Three Kings’ or even wise men. The only description of these three (it doesn’t even say that they are all men) is that they are ‘Magi’ which directly translated means ‘magician’. So that’s it then, they were three conjurors on their way to a ‘gig’ when they were way laid and diverted by a star to attend a children’s party. It makes sense to me.
It would appear that the modern story of the three kings as we know today was written some centuries later, and it wasn’t until then that the story, i.e. three blokes, two white and one black rolled into town on camels (something else that was never mentioned in the bible). It is this scene that the Spanish re-enacted up and down the country last night, and I know having watched the parade here last year they make a terrific job of it. Interestingly they find it impossible to find dark skinned men of the correct religious persuasion to fulfil the roll of third king, so they have to get a white chap and black him up! – You can just imagine the horror back home at the very mention of this can’t you, but thankfully over here we don’t have some trumped up little councillor tapping us on our shoulders telling us how to live our lives. Viva Espana!