I received a response from one of the most iconic heroes of British entertainment today. I greatly admire Bruce Forsyth, I share his passion for humour, golf and tap dancing. Cue joke about falling into the sink.
Sadly Bruce is about to embark on a long stint of filming for the new episode of Strictly Come Dancing, and has no time to meet me, yet he has kindly agreed to send me a signed photograph which will include a personalised message to the winner of the RNIB charity auction.
I'm still baffled by the word 'Strictly' in the name of that show. I'm not sure what the alternative is.
Actually, I've just this second realised that it's in reference to some film starring Patrick Swayze that I once had no desire to see.
Meanwhile, I also received an email from the angelic Sue, PA to Chris Tarrant. She mentioned that while he barely had time to catch his breath during the average day, he will afford me the time I need (what a nice guy) if I travel up to Elstree during the shooting of Who Wants to be a Millionaire?
A little anecdote on that subject. A Turkish friend of mine told me that in his country the currency is so unstable and in such a constant state of flux, that the show there is called "Does anyone want 10 Billion?" A rhetorical question I'd assume.
As for me, I'm still sat here in my impoverished state without a brass razoo to my bloomin name. "But you've got a flat in a nice part of London..." say some of my friends. Yes, I do own a cramped and dusty flat, or should I say part own, along with a swarm of Mortgage Companies, but sadly you can no longer nip across the road and buy a loaf of bread with a radiator or a roof tile, so it doesn't do me a great deal of good in that respect.