When we were in the dark about their af­fair

Harefield Gazette - - OPINION -

PEO­PLE of­ten ask me if I ever run out of ideas for Bm@il but while there is news, anec­dotes from the past, and Jaffa cakes, there should (hope­fully) never be a famine.

This week I’m writ­ing about cats and dogs, cal­en­dars – and Bob­bie Vee, who shuf­fled off the mor­tal coil in Oc­to­ber.

I was sorry to hear the pop­u­lar singer, known for num­bers like Take Good Care of My Baby, died from Alzheimer’s last month. He was a huge star in the 1960s, but I didn’t see him per­form un­til the 1980s at the Beck Theatre in Hayes.

The theatre was full that night, apart from two empty seats. It had been ar­ranged that these would not be oc­cu­pied un­til the lights went down, so it had to be some­body fa­mous. Nat­u­rally I was squint­ing through the dark to see who it might be.

Even­tu­ally, lyri­cist Tim Rice slipped into one, and with him was Elaine Paige who was then at the top of her game as a mu­si­cal theatre star. It must have been the start of their (even­tu­ally) very public af­fair which lasted a decade and only ended when he re­mained with his wife.

The Rice/Paige li­ai­son never leaked out from that night, and re­mained a se­cret for some time af­ter­wards. Can you imag­ine that hap­pen­ing with so­cial me­dia now?

Not ev­ery­thing re­volves around tweet­ing, so I was pleased to hear from Gor­don Isaacs that he is still pro­duc­ing the Hare­field cal­en­dar which he started with his late wife May in 2000.

It is still only £4 and is avail­able from the vil­lage li­brary, both post of­fices and on Satur­days in the High Street.

The 2017 ver­sion is re­ally beau­ti­ful, with pic­tures shot by lo­cal pho­tog­ra­phers that can later be de­tached and used as post­cards.

A def­i­nite fan of the twit­terati is our daugh­ter’s cat, who is stay­ing with us again. Jan­gles looks long­ingly at the birds who line up to tweet at him from a safe dis­tance on the fence.

He con­stantly re­in­forces the stark con­trast be­tween cats and dogs. When you re­turn home, a dog will throw it­self at you, tail wag­ging, as if to say: ‘I’m so glad you’re home.’

Jan­gles just raises one weary eye­brow and sighs. If he had a watch (and could speak) I swear he’d tap it and say: ‘What time do you call this?’

Ev­ery week BAR­BARA FISHER looks at is­sues that af­fect us all – the is­sues that get you talk­ing. You can join in by email­ing bmail­bar­bara@gmail.com

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