STEVE ROYLE COLUMN

SPARE a thought this week for my dear wife.
Steve RoyleSteve Royle
Steve Royle

She fell victim to our inability to correctly read a party invite.

On this particular occasion we were invited to a 40th Birthday Bash with a “Wear something white” theme.

If only I had read that detail and not just the post code!

Steve Royle Column. Spot Steve's wife at the "Wear Something White Party". Whoops!Steve Royle Column. Spot Steve's wife at the "Wear Something White Party". Whoops!
Steve Royle Column. Spot Steve's wife at the "Wear Something White Party". Whoops!
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My wife arrived on her own, as is so often the case as I was gigging in Manchester first, in a blue jump suit and orange jacket!

She stood out like a peacock in a penguin enclosure! Even her skin wasn’t white as we’ve only just got back from our holidays.

Under such circumstances she did all she could; sat in a corner and got drunk!

I’ll be honest, this has only happened once before, when I turned up at a James Bond theme night dressed in leather underpants, chains and a mask. “Bondage”, “Bond”? It’s an easy mistake to make, right?

Steve Royle Column. Spot Steve's wife at the "Wear Something White Party". Whoops!Steve Royle Column. Spot Steve's wife at the "Wear Something White Party". Whoops!
Steve Royle Column. Spot Steve's wife at the "Wear Something White Party". Whoops!

While on the subject of misinterpreting words;

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regardless of your opinion on the forthcoming American presidential election, you’ve got to admit it’s throwing up some very amusing headlines on this side of the Atlantic.

Seeing the word “Trump” followed by no end of tag lines never fails to make me laugh.

This week I saw in one paper “Healthy Trump” just proving what my dad always used to say; “Better out than in.”

The only saving grace from that man acquiring the ultimate seat of power is that he could possibly one day be sitting next to our Prime Minister behind two seating labels marked “Teresa May ... Trump.”

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The Bank of England started circulating the long-awaited plastic £5 note the other week. The cleaner, safer and stronger notes are expected to “stand the test of time”, according to Bank of England governor Mark Carney.

Not if my wife and kids get their hands on any they won’t, Mark!

The only way to make money in my house last longer is to make each note six feet long and weigh 15

kilos each. Surely making waterproof notes is only asking for an increase in successful money laundering?

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Finally, I was on stage at the London Hippodrome recently. It’s a venue that used to host many amazing cabaret acts in its time and I always get excited when playing such iconic places.

Sadly, the main auditorium is now a casino and only a small 200-seater theatre remains in the Frank Matcham designed building, but it was still incredible to see the signed pictures of artistes who had performed there before me: Barbara Windsor, Judy Garland, Frank Sinatra and even Harry Houdini

(although he may have escaped the contract).

I may not be on the walls for years to come but I was at least on a few posters outside for a short while.

It’s ironic that the place is now a casino as no other use could reflect the fortunes of a variety act more; many people chancing their luck but only a small few enjoying the rewards.

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While on stage, I got a great reminder of the North South divide when I asked an audience member “What do men do best?”. Up here I usually get responses like “drink beer” or “watch football”, but in London it was “Philosophise”.

There you go, that theatre may have changed over the years and the stars who performed there moved on to the great auditorium in the sky but two things are still the same: down South they sit around thinking and up North we get on with doing! Until next time, keep well good Northern folk!