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Hey. (or Pissing With A New Ronantic).

Hey. The following is a blog about inexplicable celebrity encounters, statistical likelihood and bookends. Yes, together at last, FINALY those three elements have fused. Think: The One Show, The Musical, On Ice!

I have bookends, if you want to be taken seriously in this game you need bookends so I’ve got bookends. Bookend #1 is a tiny TV studio in London’s Canary Wharf, the year is 1984, the occasion is the filming of some spurious, un-Google-able European TV show that will feature live performances from Simple Minds, Big Country, Spandau Ballet and Simply Red. I was at this exclusive event courtesy of my membership of the Big Country Fan Club©, and I’m still a member. No, you fuck off.
Anyways, the entire evening was in a whole new stratosphere of tedious. They had two songs each to play but it took over four hours. There were technical problems, wardrobe malfunctions, all sorts going on. Hucknall wasn’t happy with the monochrome manner in which the studio lights danced upon his hair, Kemp (G) wasn’t happy with the weft on the tartan carpet he’d fashioned into a poncho, yada yada yada, it was the 1980s, these were common problems.

Cut a long story short, I was 15 and had been drinking Woodpecker cider with various other of my brothers from the Big Country Fan Club© for about seven hours. So while Simply Red were ejaculating all over the history of all recorded music, l found myself (as would you if you had any sense) pinned to a public urinal, flanked to my left by none other than Spandau Ballet’s chief crooning ponce, Tony Hadley. He saw me looking at him and said “Hey?” … ‘Hey’ (but with a question mark) … so I said “hey” back, but with a full stop, my “hey” had an unintentional sense of finality, thus our conversation ended there.

Between that bookend and the next one I had various other unlikely celebrity encounters but none of them involve urine or Tony Hadley so I’ve edited them out. Think of them as books you don’t need to read, like Jeffrey Archer books.

Bookend #2: Fast forward three years to David Bowie’s hugely disappointing ‘Glass Spider’ Wembley Stadium concert. No fan club membership was required for Wembley Stadium in the late 1980s, If five hundred of you stormed the fence simultaneously, four hundred of you were in. We saw U2, Springsteen, Queen, Bowie, Wham, Kershaw (all the greats), and never paid a penny. The new Wembley Stadium is rubbish, you either need a ticket or you have to pay to get in, even if it’s Bowie in one of his ‘couldn’t give a shit’ periods, you’d still have to pay.

Anyways, cut a long story short, at some point in the evening I found myself in the public urinals, not in the spiritual sense, I mean I needed a piss, I was in the lavs just beneath the old Olympic gallery where all the corporates hung out, and who is pissing next to me?, only Tony pissing Hadley. Remembering our previous encounter I confidently offered a knowing “Hey?” … he looked at me like I was shit on his shoe, spat in the urinal and walked out. He didn’t even wash his hands, which was originally what this blog was going to be about but it’s gone in a different direction now. Never mind, I’ll do that one next time.

That’s right, I have pissed flanked by Tony Hadley. TWICE. What are the chances? Good question, and thanks to a good friend of mine at Matchodds.com I can tell you, once is about six million to one, twice he calculated at a staggering 40 million to one. He said if I’d slashed next to Slash (twice) those odds would double. He was also more impressed by someone he knew who drove a van, and had seen Van Morrisson in Morrissons three times, and they were all different branches. I know when I’m beat. Still, 40 million to one is pretty steep odds though, for context, your chances of winning the lottery are 14 million to one. Exactly, who’s the mug now? you may have inexplicably become a multi millionaire for a third time over but have you pissed next to Tony Hadley twice?
COMING UP NEXT TIME: New Romantics With Pissy Fingers.

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