Things I Have Discovered Today

You may have woken up this morning and been somewhat surprised to read the headlines on some newspapers claiming that Judy and I are in negotiations with other TV channels to continue our domination of tea-time television. Had I read that John Wayne was in negotiations to continue his domination of the lawless West, I couldn't have more surprised. Unfortunately, I'm in no position to either confirm or deny the rumours of the £4 million deal. Judy handles the financial arrangements and I've been too busy today working on 'Eye of the Storm 2'.

Why this particular show should involve my staring at Word documents for eight solid hours and fixing other people's grammar and typing mistakes is too long and arduous to go into here. Let's just say that it's part of the magical mystery of television that you viewers rarely get to see. That the documents have more to do with the Leisure industry of North East England is similarly confusing. However, the day has been one that has blessed me with much in the way of new knowledge.

I have discovered that:

* The average wedding the UK costs over £18,000 and has approximately 106 guests.

* A man is foolish should he try to sail his yacht into any harbour of North East Scotland when there is a strong wind blowing from off the sea.

* A 5% rise in the seasonal visitors to a certain holiday camp in East Anglia would produce a sewage problem should there be an unseasonable amount of rainfall.

Other remarkable discoveries I've made today include the fact that all six feet and two inches of the Madeley frame are not suited to life hunched over a keyboard for eight hours. It explains why I've just had Judy walk barefoot over my back to iron of the kinks. It also came as something of a surprise to learn that in the course of negotiating my contract with the producers, I'd failed to establish that my eight hour working day didn't include lunch. My day is really nine hours, or eight and a half if I can ram a pickled sandwich down my throat in the Starbucks across the road from the production offices.

I must finally say a word about the nation's railways. When they next decide to cancel an eight AM train, could they give me more warning? Having gone to the trouble of wearing my false nose and beret, it's galling to have to spend an extra half hour on the platform worrying that people might recognise me from the TV.

I'm now getting to bed. I have to be at the offices tomorrow for eight o'clock to ensure that I can beat the rush hour traffic at the other end of the day. A false nose and beret are hardly adequate protection against flailing elbows of rival commuters and tonight's train was so crammed, I found a businessman's sweat stained armpit placed conveniently under the end of my nose. I can't be sure that my plastic proboscis didn't begin to run and my beret droop.

Introducing Dennis

It will come as no surprise to many of you to learn that I'm not always me. Sometimes I'm Dennis.

Dennis is my P.A., or, as he likes to describe himself, my Personal 'Attendant'. He attends to all the jobs I have neither the time nor the patience to do myself. Sometimes it's Dennis who types up my posts and publishes them when I'm busy with the show. You might say, therefore, that Dennis is my extra set of legs. He's also my third arm, but, I hasten to add, he's not my fourth. Dennis has only one arm. In fact, he's one of the few one-armed P.A.s in the country, which makes him half a P.A., or an 'A' as he likes to joke.

Dennis has a unique sense of humour about his disability, which is the way he says you have to be. Not many men have had a limb bitten off by a basking shark off the coast of Cornwall and I doubt if there's another man who can laugh about it as much as Dennis. It's what makes me feel so certain that you'll like him. However, a word to the wise: Dennis' involvement in my blog explains why there are often so many spelling mistakes and typos in my posts. You may think you're correcting my poor spelling but you're really making a one armed man feel bad about his disability.

I've decided to introduce you to Dennis because tomorrow I'll be going to meet the team who will be working with me on 'Eye of the Storm 2'. There's already talk of 'Eye of the Storm 3' and 'Eye of the Storm 4', so this job will be consuming two days of my week from now on. Should I disappear for 48 hours, I'm hoping that Dennis will help keep this blog going. Being a one armed man, he will probably be writing posts that are considerably shorter than my usual pieces. I hope that Dennis will become to this blog what Nige is to Bryan over at Thought Experiments. Or that's how I explained it to my little one-armed helper this morning.

'Dennis, would you relish the opportunity of doing some extra typing each week?' I asked him as he began to clear up after the first production meeting of the day.

He looked at me from under his heavy brow and grunted.

'Is that a good grunt or a bad grunt?' I asked.

He put his one, lonely, solitary hand in his pocket and adopted the look of a suitably unimpressed one-armed man.

'I take it that you don't want to hear what I want you to do?'

'I'm not writing your blog, if that's what you're asking,' he said, forgetting for the moment which handsome Channel 4 type pays his wages.

'You've done it before,' I said. 'There are many times you've transcribed pieces from my Dictaphone.'

'But you get all the credit.'

'As it should be, Dennis. As it should be. You can't honestly believe that people should credit you for transcribing the words of a man with the full compliment of limbs?' I rubbed my face, which was aching at the cheek of it all. I could see that I would have to compromise if I wanted my plan to go ahead. 'So, would you do it if I told people of your existence? Perhaps I could give you a regular column in which you'd get to talk about life from a one-armed point of view.'

He shrugged but his face couldn't conceal a fleeting look of excitement.

'That's better,' I said, 'but if you're going to have a more visible presence on my blog, we have to make some ground rules. Take a note, Dennis. Head the list: Things That I, Dennis, Should and Should Not Do When Writing on Richard's Blog.'

'Fair enough,' he said, his hand coming out of his pocket and taking a pad and pencil from his desk.

The list took half the morning to compile but I present it to you as a way of filling the blog while I now go and practise my documentary voice.

Dennis's List of Things He Should and Should Not Do When Writing on Richard's Blog

1. Don't annoy the punters. Americans don't like too many references to Stephen Fry or obesity.
2. Don't provoke the visitors to any online forums dedicated to 'The House'. They will hunt you down, Dennis. The last time, I was lucky to get away with only three crank phone calls and a jiffy bag full of rabbit excrement.
3. Try to promote Jerry Caesar's blog whenever you can. I'm tired of being the only person to leave comments over there.
4. No posts about disability rights.
5. No posts about Esther Rantzen. I don't care how wonderful you think she is, Dennis.
6. Don't flirt with Selena Dreamy. If you had three arms you still wouldn't have enough.
7. Don't mention Finland to Ax unless you speak the language.
8. Don't provoke Mutleythedog. He is not a dog and probably isn't called Mutley.
9. Do not disillusion Bertas. She still thinks that Norwich is a good holiday destination.
10. Remind The Twitch to keep taking his mood medicine.
11. No name dropping. People cannot stand it when a blogger casually drops the names of famous people they have met into their blogs. Stephen Fry doesn't do it so neither should we.
12. News about Stephen Fry takes precedence over any other. Then it's Bill Oddie followed by That Man Clarkson. News about Jeremy Paxman can be posted if there's nothing better to do.
13. Respect Judy at all times. Remember: she pays our wages.
14. No jokes about one-armed bandits or any other kind of bandit.
15. No pictures of naked one-armed women.
16. Remember that people are here to read about me. I, Richard Madeley, should appear in every one of your blog posts. As should a completely superfluous link to Stephen Fry's blog.
17. Never mention your stump. People aren't interested.

And Now I Wait...

I'm exhausted. We recorded today's show earlier than normal in order to fit my job interview into a gap in my schedule. It means that I've had a hectic day and now need a couple of hours of shut-eye before I drive Stephen to a poetry recital in aid of the Leslie Phillips Cravat Foundation.

I think the interview went reasonably well. By the time I'd finished arguing my case, the title of the show had changed from 'Eye of the Storm 2: Mild and Slightly Damp' to 'Eye of the Storm 2: Slightly Damp But Mild'. It was a small concession on the producer's behalf but I didn't want to have my name associated with a show whose title didn't scan right. I also have yet to hear the outcome as I understand that Alan Titchmarsh was due in this afternoon to outline his plans.

I still don't know how to feel about this development. To know that I'm going head-to-head with the nation's favourite item of knitwear is enough to dent my confidence, or, at least, unravel an extra yard of wool. Yet should I get the job, this blog may yet survive. I'll be working two days a week in the city, leaving me time to finish my novel set in the world of men who go commando. At the moment, I can only assure you that 'Bravo Size Two Zero' will be in bookshops by the late summer.