I’ve been head down for the past few weeks, preparing for my one-man show. The title is catchy – Nigel Havers Talking B*ll*cks. I’m not sure this was a good idea because in every interview that I have done, I’ve been told that we can’t use this word on air. I seem to hear nothing but four-letter words on the TV these days, so I hadn’t realised that people would mind the bollocks. It seems to be more offensive than the entire four-letter cannon. I am obviously not down with the kids.
I have never done anything like this before and have been worrying about three things: will anyone come; will anyone find it amusing; why am I doing it in the first place? I remember Dawn French wailing down the telephone, saying: ‘Why am I doing this?’ ‘Because you’ve got a massive ego,’ I replied. ‘Oh yes, of course, that’s the reason. Phew,’ she said. I am telling myself the same thing – that it is my ego (and, I hope, not hubris) for why else would I take to the stage on my own and sit for an hour and a half telling stories about… me? For about the millionth time in my life I’m thinking I must be insane. Mind you, it has been fun delving into the past and remembering a simpler time growing up. Everyone had less money, food was plain, we all knew the name of our doctor, no one was living on benefits, consumerism was restricted to essentials, and everyone seemed happier with one very small telly and a telephone on the table in the hall.
When I emerged from a studio last Friday, it suddenly became apparent that spring had sprung.
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