His Girl Monday

Today my one woman bid for world media domination continued. The esteemed organ that is the North Staffs Evening Sentinel had asked if I was prepared to do a short video interview to go with the feature that is in Tomorrows paper. Well, "in for a penny in for a pound" (or 322 pounds in my case), so braving the early morning mix of traffic and snow, I arrived promptly at the Stoke's own Wapping, their large HQ on Festival Park.

The videoer (clumsy word) soon arrived, a bustling young man called Martin, for now to be known as Martin "Spielburg". Equipment under arm, he escorted me to my fate in the Board Room. After a brief discussion, where I suggested my best angle was to be filmed from at least 200 yards, in the dark and behind a screen, he relaxed me down in a chair and trained his camera on me. He sat opposite and played the part of the interviewer. I tried to look at Martin "Parkinson" as I answered, but the camera kept drawing my gaze like a wannabe celeb to a paparazzi. I had been given an idea about what he was going to ask, and last night I had mentally prepared some hilarious anecdotes, pithy sound-bites, and searing insight. That all went straight out of the window and under pressure I bumbled and waffled at an unintelligibly fast speed. I do hope he has some good editing software.

After a few minutes the ordeal was over, or so I thought. Martin "Ford Coppola" wanted more, and asked to film me gazing out of the window, as if wistfully contemplating life. Apparently this was to paper over the edits, that were now obviously necessary. He then suggested we should do some establishing shots along the canal side, so we slip slided our way down to the tow path.  Martin "Scorsese" (oooo that works !), directed me in an action packed stroll along a freezing Trent & Mersey canal. Well, I just about managed the task of putting one foot in front of the other without falling head over high heels, although his direction that I should naturally glance around me as I walk was met with me jerking my head around, like I was being buzzed by a bothersome bee. I did offer to do a sidesplitting slapstick fall into the canal, to earn us 250 quid on You've Been Framed, but he thankfully declined. I must add seriously, that Martin was lovely and made me feel really at ease, so thank you.

Finished up, I was disappointed at the lack of a wrap party for our opus, and was about to go when informed that The Sentinel's own Woodward of the NHS (or was it Bernstein), Dave, wanted a word and probably a quote from me about another "cheery" NHS story. So at that, I was led into the Heart of Darkness, the Belly of the Beast, the press room. It was a disappointingly calm and efficient place, more like you're everyday Insurance office. There was a distinct lack of editors ranting about deadlines, or sozzled hacks hunched over typewriters. Not even one measly shout of "Hold the Front Page". Before I departed I did disconcert everyone somewhat, by insisting on taking some pics for my blog, while  pompously declaring that "we are all in the same business really".

I am genuinely dreading tomorrow's publication. Even if I could buy up every single copy of the paper it will be difficult stopping people seeing the video on their web site. What's done is done. Hmmm I wonder how much it will cost for a standby flight to Brazil  

I have just realised that the image on the PC screen, is in fact the old me!!