Many years ago, that was; I’m not referring to my most recent appearance, in the audience of the first leaders’ debate during the 2010 General Election campaign: blink and you missed me.
I was reminded of my week on telly by yesterday’s prompt about a surreal experience. It’s quite a long story so go and have your wee first.
I’m a big fan of saving the planet. I’m in favour of breathable air, water for all and not buying a new thing until the old thing dies, is dismantled and the parts used for shelves, dusters and magazine holders. My tea caddies are old coffee jars, so I practise what I preach.
In 2001 Stockport council sent out questionnaires asking what residents did in the way of being green. I told them. In detail.
A couple of months later they contacted me and asked if our family would be willing to take part in their upcoming Cleaner, Greener campaign. ’Sure,’ I said. We were interviewed and photographed for a brochure and invited to the campaign’s launch at the art gallery in January 2002. I wore a dressy frock purchased in a charity shop for £3; the boys wore hand-me-downs and the Hub a favourite old jacket. We looked very smart when we were presented as Stockport’s Greenest Family.
I was interviewed for Radio Manchester or something like that. I’ll be honest, I was flattered but incoherent. When the producer asked what kind of thing I do to save the planet, I babbled on about washing on cold and folding wet washing and only ironing one side, but not necessarily in that order and interspersed with more than the necessary number of ums, ahs and ers. I can still see her resigned smile and hear the click of the delete button as I turned away.
There was a small article in the Stockport Express and that, I thought, was that. We’d had the fun of a cultural night out at the art gallery. So cultural, I thought the refreshments were a modern art display until the guests attacked them. We ate our fill, drank expensive swill (Cleaner, Greener but not Cheaper, Cheaper) went home and thought nothing more of it.
Until the day the phone rang and I had a moment of entelechy.
You know what? This is such a long story, I think I’ll leave it there for now. More tomorrow!
Yesterday’s word was, of course dacnomania: an obsession with killing, often by biting. That explains my Twilight fixation.