A choppy week sitting in for Piers Morgan again on Good Morning Britain. One nude studio guest, a sprinkling of prevaricating politicians and an interview with the delightfully direct Dolly Parton. That’s breakfast telly for you. And I love Dolly. Who doesn’t? I’ve met her a few times and she’s as sharp as a tack. Once, mid-interview, she stretched out her legs and considered her shoes. I laughed. ‘You’ve got really tiny feet, haven’t you, Dolly?’ She nodded, adjusting her embonpoint with both hands. ‘Nothing grows in the shade, honey.’
I remember my first interview with a naked person. (You don’t forget that kind of thing.) I was the local paper’s cub reporter, alone in the newsroom on the late shift, when our night receptionist’s quavering voice floated up from downstairs. ‘Richard! There’s a lady down here with no clo’es on!’ Indeed there was.
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