My friend and I stood 8 feet in front of David Bowie while he rehearsed for a TV show once. Us and the 3 cameramen were the only ones on the studio floor.
Once Princess Diana was opening something at St David's Hall, Cardiff. Myself and a security guard were the only people in the locked foyer when she came down the escalator. As all her entourage were behind her there was a period of about 10 seconds when she just looked at me expecting me to show her where to go next. As you can imagine I just stared back - where do you begin a conversation with the most famous woman on Earth. All too soon our moment was over.
I stayed in the same hotel just outside St Andrews' in 2005 with Tom Watson and Jack Nicklaus. More sproting greats than celebrities. I then was fortunate enough to walk the course with the delightful Mrs Watson and loan her my field glasses. (I was there this year at The Open and it was a damn shame that Tom did not pull it off.
I served Julian Lloyd Webber in a pub in 1993.
Was at a charity swimming bash and Sharon Davis was sitting at the same table as I.
And when I was a reckless 18 year old, in a nightclub in Windermere, I was asked on a date by Tony Knowles. I didn't accept, I was terrified.
Robert Hardy allowed me to step in front of him in the taxi queue at Paddington.
And, when I was 8 years old, Bill Maynard was outside Turf Moor and he gave me 10p to buy myself some sweets.
I've been in a (childish) fight with a Spice Girl in a pub garden (Sporty) and I've drunkenly and accidentally offered Rhona Cameron career advice (without knowing it was her) in the street. Nothing to write home about.
My wife was at the funeral last Wednesday for the bloke who inspired Harry Webb to become a referee. Who then, in turn, inspired his son, Howard, to also become a referee.
Did some early recording with Stock and Aitken, and then following a challenge from Matt Aitken (who successfully lobbied to get me replaced as the drummer in the band for which I was playing - in which to be fair, he ws quite right), beat them 13-1 in a football match.
Helped Bobby Charlton move a pram thing out of the way on a baggage carousel (on the way home from the WSC African Nations Cup trip, 1994).
Met Simon Hughes MP with his bloke years before he officially came out, which I always found odd.
Took the Cockney Reject Stinky Turner to hospital after I'd licked him up in the air in a football match at our local park.
Stock in a queue at the old NOMIS rehearsal studios, in front of Jeff Beck and behind, I'm pretty sure, Bobby Womack.
Once went out with a girl whose previous boyfriend was the actor who played Gripper Stebson in Grange Hill - I spent the entire evening thinking I was about to get spotted and punched.
Sommer wrote: And when I was a reckless 18 year old, in a nightclub in Windermere, I was asked on a date by Tony Knowles. I didn't accept, I was terrified.
I've had several vague encounters with Tony Knowles over the years. Not living in Bolton anymore, I've managed to avoid him for a while.
While walking along Hampstead Road in 1988, Chris Tarrant stopped my companion, took one of her chips, took one look at me and said to her, "What are you doing with that wally?"
A few weeks later, I administered a kick on the ankle to the guitarist out of Balaam And The Angel.
The Purple Cow wrote:
Stood at the same Amsterdam bar as Bruce Springsteen [..] Kylie MinogUe [..] Darryl Hall [..] Paula Weller[..] her out of T'Pau [..] Barney Nina Hagen (deeply strange)[..] Dusty Roads [..] Vanilla Ice
Where the hell did you used to drink, is it still open, and would they kick me out as a scruffy twat? Good lord.
It must beat the Sound Garden; the most famous person I saw there was the singer from Scheisse Minelli.
treibeis wrote: While walking along Hampstead Road in 1988, Chris Tarrant stopped my companion, took one of her chips, took one look at me and said to her, "What are you doing with that wally?"
A few weeks later, I administered a kick on the ankle to the guitarist out of Balaam And The Angel.
I posted the following as my facebook status about three weeks ago:
"Just went for lunch at the restaurant next to my workplace. I sat at the main counter, looked to big guy with blonde hair to my right and realised it was Thurston Moore. Very nice guy! We talked about Benfica v Barcelona, moving to London (he's thinking about it), the quality of the grilled squid in said restaurant, my Portuguese ability (he was impressed) and the best way to get to a John Cage exhibit in Lisbon (he decided to walk)."
Went to the excellent, excellent dramatisation of the goings-on in the parliamentary whips' offices in the 1970s, This House, on Saturday at the Cottesloe. At the half-time drinks not very far away from rubbing shoulders with me was, rather appropriately it strikes me, Nick Robinson. He was every bit as appreciative of the play as I was - and I reckon I can think of several otfers whose streets it would be right up.
jim w wrote: steveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee: jealous as fuck, me like. is thurston moore a football fan then?
Not really. I'm a regular at the restaurant and the owner is a massive Benfica fan, so we were talking before I noticed Thurston Moore. I explained to Thurston what me and the restaurant owner were talking about and Thurston said he watched it on TV at his hotel and thought Barcelona were really impressive.
The funniest thing about the whole event was that the restaurant owner assumed Thurston Moore was just a colleague of mine and kept asking him questions in Portuguese about another colleague of mine, who is a popular regular in this restaurant. I explained to the restaurant owner who Thurston Moore was after he'd left, but he couldn't give a toss.
Where the hell did you used to drink, is it still open, and would they kick me out as a scruffy twat? Good lord.
The Amsterdam bar I referenced is The Nachtwacht Bar in the Hotel Americain which is on the edge of Leidseplein. The Americain is where all rock acts stay when they play the Netherlands, so they all end up drinking in the bar. There photos are all on the walls of the bar. It's also a big expat bar, I always hated that word.
Other people I met there; Noddy Holder, Slash, UB40, INXS, Martin Fry, Barney Albrecht, Texas (the band), Hootie & The Blowjobs, Garland Jeffries, the bloke who played 'Grasshopper' in Kung Fu, Silvia Kristel (RIP), Robert B. Parker (RIP), and my wife.
Gangster Octopus wrote: My wife was at the funeral last Wednesday for the bloke who inspired Harry Webb to become a referee. Who then, in turn, inspired his son, Howard, to also become a referee.
Last week, I watched The Referees/Les Arbitres, a presumably UEFA-okayed (though not official product) documentary about the refs at Euro 2008. It's brilliant, but Howard Webb is in it a lot. Too much, in fact.
He comes across fine, but if you cut him totally out of the film, it'd be about 40 minutes long instead of 65. And his dad is in it a fair bit too, to the point of wasting the viewer's time (not that the father is a dickhead or anything, but it's just too much). Each of the other referees, from Roberto Rosetti to Manuel Mejuto Gonzalez, is on screen for maybe five or six minutes each.
They didn't, however, mention at any point that Webb's dad had been a ref himself.
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