An Interview with Paul Daniels

Well, I say an interview, it was more a quick soundbite. Yet still, I canat leastsay that I got to stick a Dictaphone in front of Paul Daniel’s face  and ask him a question.

It hall happened last night at the Christmas Lights switch-on in Wigan. As far as I knew, the official light-switcher-onner was still a mystery, so whilst I’m out interviewing a bunch of young people on the best and worst things about 2007 I’m not paying much attention ot the big stage in front of me.

Then I hear it “Ladies and Gentlemen, Paul Daniels and Debbie McGee!”

Well, buggar me! I wrapped up my last interview as quickly as possible, darted towards the back of the stage and stood around with what seemed like hundreds of fans of the little magician, begging for an interview and photgraph like some small-town paparazzi.

It took me a while, but I finally got to chat with Paul, and Debbie too for a brief moment. It was weird, standing there chattting to the magician off the telly and getting as excited as I probably would had I just met the guys from Metallica.

The Juggling Kid

I was at the Wigan One World festival this afternoon, once again whoring that wonderful website which I get paid to look after, when I saw a small kid, certainly no older than 10, juggling with about six clubs.

It annoyed the hell out of me.

Not because he was invading my personal space, not because he was especially arrogant or anything about his tallents or anything like that. No, the only reason it annoyed me was that he could actually juggle, and he was bloody good at it too.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve had this weird fascination with juggling and jugglers, yet no matter how hard I try, I really can’t do anything more than a bit of half-arsed juggling with two apples.

I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: No matter what I do in life, no matter how successful I am in my career, no matter how beautiful my future kids are or how long I remain happily married to the love of my life, I will always consider myself a complete failure for no other reason than my ability to juggle.

Thinking about it, I suppose my obsession with juggling has something to do with me being such a dyspraxic, clumsy sod. Honestly, I struggle to catch things, keep hold of them and manage not to drop or break whatever’s in my hands.

It pisses me off something rotten, and it’s something I really wish wasn’t a part of me. In a way then, I guess that I see juggling as the polar opposite of clumsiness, and the more I wish that I wasn’t so clumsy, the more I see juggling as the pinacle of, erm, unclumsiness.

I don’t know, maybe I’ll run away and join the circus.