Gimme That Punk Junk *

What do you mean you don't remember this post when I said I should blog about Charlie Drake? Well, now I will as I've just noticed that he has now died. And the story? Not really interesting and neither is it funny, but I feature and so does Charlie Drake, so here goes (oh, btw, it's not very long either):

Had my once-a-fortnight Friday afternoon off and didn't really fancy going off home, so wandered through town (as I used to do far more frequent than I do now) and decided to go and see this, at my favourite cinema. To say that it was harrowing would be an understatement and to say that I was glad to be on my own would be very accurate indeed as I would not have been able to talk to anyone for some time after seeing that. So I emerged from the cinema in a bit of a daze and started walking along Shaftesbury Avenue when passing me as we strolled alongside the Cambridge Theatre (I think that's the name of it - it's the one that Les Mis was on for all those years) was someone who looked like Charlie Drake - same height, same wee cheeky smiling face, same wispy hair. But there was only one problem - or so I thought - and that was that Charlie Drake had died years ago. I'm getting a wee bit scared and thinking like I'm that lad from Sixth Sense (I can't be the only person who realised what was going on in that one before it was half way through, btw) so think that I'm in desperate need for a drink (no, I know I don't usually need an excuse, but I really did need to calm my nerves). I ask the young woman behind the bar if she knows who Charlie Drake is and, being eastern European, she doesn't, so, if she doesn't know who he is, she won't know if he's dead. I then text a friend, but he neither knows Drake nor knows if he's dead. I then phone another friend who tells me that he's sure Drake died years ago. I swiftly drink up and decide that I need to go home and rest - or at least go home and getting wellied into some more bevvy and do some research into the life and, maybe, deat of Charlie Drake. So I get home and, before long, realise that I had, of course, passed Charlie Drake in the street and that my previous suspicions that nothing exists outside this world and these bodies which we inhabit. While looking up the internet for all things Charlie Drake, I came across this:

"Filming of the Charlie Drake Show by the BBC was cut short, however, by a serious accident that occurred in 1961, during live transmission. Drake had arranged for a bookcase to be set up in such a way that it would fall apart during a slapstick sketch in which he was pulled through it. It was later discovered that an over-enthusiastic workman had "mended" the bookcase before filming. The actors working with him, unaware of what had happened, proceeded with the rest of the sketch which required that they pick him up and throw him through an open window. Drake fractured his skull and was unconscious for three days. It was two years before he returned to the screen."

No, I know I shouldn't have laughed, but I did and I couldn't help it. There's just something so mad about the whole concept.

Anyway, I wouldn't put Drake as one of my favourite comedians of all time, in fact, I wouldn't have him in my top 200. But I suppose he did make a bit of a contribution to British popular culture and that's more than can be said for me!

*Spoof punk song by Charlie Drake under the guise of The Water Pistols.