MRS COHEN’S DIARY
NORMALLY IT’S a pleasure to see Harrison Ford but then normally he is not hanging about the place like a bear with a sore head — or a sore foot in his case. Harrison, you will recall broke his ankle while making the latest Star Wars film when the door of his spacecraft, the Millennium Falcon, fell on his foot. This confirms two things to me — that space travel is dangerous whatever precautions you take, and that Harrison is now of an age where he ought to have his feet up. Also, I have to say that this accident was the most exciting thing to happen in a Star Wars movie since the ’80s. Of course there was no sighting of his wife Calista, so it’s been down to good old Mrs C to visit him in hospital and provide the basics — Bollinger, reiki, smoked salmon and mindfulness training. Anyway, I can tell by the slightly more optimistic grunting sounds that he feels better. Personally I don’t think it’s such a bad deal. He gets to recover in his Hollywood mansion while he still gets paid. Nice work if you can get it.
Nigella has been on the phone again — thankfully in happy mode this time. Having been looking after Harrison and counselling Nigella for the past few months following that court case, it comes as a blessed relief to have some good news. She is absolutely thrilled that despite the admissions of drug taking, the United States has lifted its ban on her travelling there. I have to say I can empathise. Back in the ’60s I met a similar fate after that dreadful business with Mick Jagger and Marianne Faithful — and as you know I never touch anything stronger than Chardonnay so it was doubly galling for me to be banned for “drug use”. Can you imagine quite how it was to have a backstage pass for Woodstock and be turned back by US border control? I knew just how Moses must have felt. The great news is that Nigella has promised that the only coke she’ll be taking from now on is the diet variety. I’ll miss her brownies.
I must pass on my congratulations to the British football team. Having been out there in Brazil at the start of the World Championship tournament, I was appalled at all the bright nylon shirts being worn by the supporters which must pong terribly in the hot weather they are experiencing there currently. Being able to sneak home from all that hellishness must come as a blessed relief for all of them.
Everyone seems to be making a big deal about Sharon Osbourne going out for lunch in Hollywood without any slap on her face. She can’t see what the fuss is about and frankly neither do I. As I was saying to Shazza the other day what’s the point in spending all that money on cosmetic surgery if you can’t ever show off your face in the raw – having said that, you won’t catch me without foundation and lippy — Ever.
I knew just how Moses must have felt