Well getting away from ‘Sooty’ and ‘Rupert the Bear’ for a moment, folks, thought it was about time I did a more serious Blog (not that the last entry wasn’t serious; it’s just that I was so overwhelmed by information being put out on the internet, that I just felt compelled to try to interpret this a little!)
Do you know!? There has been so much salacious gossip and innuendo about myself on the World Wide Web, that I sometimes wonder if other people live their whole lives in a complete fantasy world. These things always filter back to me; and sometimes, I am even sent links to this nonsense which I quickly have a look at. For example, a recent post which was just brought to my attention, that amounted to a summary of my private life with a person that they know absolutely nothing about, but which they apparently felt privileged to expound upon at some length, and make their own personal comments.
Would you believe?! That according to this pair of northern fishwives, my relationship with the opposite sex involves a ‘Stepford Wife’ syndrome, wherein I am being accused of humiliating – nay, ‘brainwashing’ – innocent young ladies into obliging my every whim and desire. Well I ask you!? I really wish they would be a little more specific! Just who are all these ‘Stepford Wives’ that they are alluding to? Without even being able to name any?! I do not have any Stepford Wives, although I do have a circle of close friends and associates; but none of these would seem to fit this given internet description.
I really don’t know where they came into possession of all this gossip…although there might be just one clue.
Back in my theatre days in 1963, one of the plays I took a leading role in was “Cinderella”. This received some quite favourable reviews from the critics at the time; although I only played the humble – but lovesick – “Buttons”. “Buttons” (i.e. myself, David Farrant) was supposed to play the part of a footman madly in love with Cinderella (well I won’t go on, you must surely all know the gist of that fairytale). It was, as I said, a well-reviewed play, but dear old “Buttons” failed to seduce Cinderella. Now, an interesting point here, I really fancied Cinderella in real life, but another actor (also a friend of mine) seemed to get all the kissing and ‘snogging scenes’.
No doubt, this is where our two Yorkshire harridans picked up this story , which they magnified out of all proportion from its original undiluted form… “Buttons” loved Cinderella – but so what?! It was only a bloody play for God’s sake!
All this really comes down to is the speculations of a couple of potential ‘housewives to be’, who in reality have no idea about my personal life; let alone my last stage appearances.
“Buttons” loved the lonely wench Cinderella, who marries her Prince Charming and leaves him speechless with remorse. But the difference is, maybe, that “Buttons” saw Cinders with a mop and painting brush in her overworked hands and chose to fall in love with her because of this very virtue. Prince Charming, however, was not so cute. He had other designs on Cinderella, which were made all too apparent in the Play.
But I ask you? Who did Cinders really love out of the two? It is only a play, let us remember. And not some performance performed at some Men’s Working Club or Bingo Hall up in the forsaken wilds of Emmerdale-land.
Really, I don’t care. All makes for good gossip I suppose! Seems like there is nothing more left to do in those hurricane-swept dales.
Anyway onto more interesting news now. I have just seen the rushes for the biopic documentary on my life, and the film is almost finished. This perhaps tells the true story of things that really happened; and not the imaginings of one or two selective – but deluded – people.
Also, another Talk coming up in a month or so, further details about both of these projects will follow.
On another matter, Della is staying here at the moment and is just about to cook me an exclusive dinner; her meals are always very enjoyable, and have to admit to being a bit hungry tonight. We have been painting decorating all day, and have worked up quite an appetite for some relaxation. A bottle or two of wine coming out with the Italian dinner to compensate for our labours.