So, Anyway...: The Autobiography

As for me, although my contribution to the show was small, and sometimes absolutely minute, being involved in it proved an extraordinarily valuable experience. The three-times-a-week live performing of material, sometimes written only six hours before, forced upon me a different mindset from the one I’d had in The Frost Report. There I could aim to

He starts looking carefully all round the carriage. After a pause . . . MF: I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with B. Or J. B or J. JC: How could it begin with a B or a J? MF: For various reasons, none of which I am at liberty to divulge. B or J. Easy . . . JC: What’s the answer? MF: Ectoplasm. JC: Ectoplasm? MF: Mr B. J. Ectoplasm. He

Assistant: No, no – we don’t have Rarnaby Budge by Charles Dikkens with two ‘k’s, the well-known Dutch author, and perhaps to save time I should add right away that we don’t have Carnaby Fudge by Darles Tikkens, or Stickwick Stapers by Miles Pikkens with four ‘M’s and a silent ‘Q’; why don’t you try the chemist? Mr Pest: I did. They sent me here.

All in all, my diligence gave me a false sense of not having much time spare to explore Cambridge life.

JC offers again. MF: Oh, thank you! (takes one) Thank you very much! JC pulls out a lighter and prepares to light it, but discovers MF has put the cigarette in his pocket. JC: Aren’t you going to smoke it? MF: Oh, no. See, if I smoke it now, I won’t have one for after. JC: After what? MF: After I smoke this one. lf I had two cigarettes now, it woul

I found Toronto an immensely likeable city, spacious and gentle and slightly dignified, but in a low-key, friendly way. The only people who didn’t seem to think much of it were its inhabitants, who could hardly wait for you to ask directions, because that gave them the perfect opportunity to apologise for it. What they were apologising for I never

got every laugh, never missed a beat, my timing was exquisite; I was relaxed, disciplined and hilarious. There had been nights when I’d got most of the sketches dead right, but never before had I done the whole show impeccably. I was superb. (Please remember we did about 180 performances and this happened just once.) The result: exhilaration. And t

politeness and inability to shake off people who were being a pest, had developed an annoying habit since his arrival. Every morning, after we arrived at the beach, he would wander off on his own, chatting to people at random, until he came across someone – always a man – whom he judged to be outstandingly boring. He would talk to them until he had

And all this agonising – this ridiculous time-wasting – was because it took me another thirty years to learn that if you say ‘No’ in a friendly, chatty way, people accept it with great grace and goodwill, and do not hate you, or send death squads after you, or report you to the Daily Mail. And until I realised this, I found myself resenting perfect