"I'd Beat Thee, But I Should Infect My Hands"

Health, dear blog reader. It can be a jolly amusing thing at times. 'My heart was really pounding and I felt a funny tingling all over,' Woody Allen said in one of his earlier, funnier movies. 'I was either in love or I had smallpox.' (He also said 'I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Actually, make that "I run through the valley of the shadow of death' - in order to get out of the valley of the shadow of death more quickly' so, you know, he clearly knew what he was talking about.)

This blogger's health continues to be a matter which baffles medical science the mostest, baby. He's got a bad back, a dodgy knee and ankle, a nasty case of RSI on his mouse-hand, several extremely unwelcome problems with his naughty bits (which you really don't want to hear any further details about, trust this blogger) and, to top it all, he believes he's got a cold coming on. And yet, last week, this blogger attended his bi-annual Type Two Diabetes check-up thingy with the lovely Nurse Janice and, once again, it was mostly good news. This blogger's weight has shot up since the last check-up six months ago, which was disappointing as he'd worked so hard to get it down last time. Then again, judging from media reports, he's hardly alone in that regard and his medical professionals didn't seem at all worried about it.

Elsewhere, however, it was all largely positive. Blood glucose level was slightly down (forty six last time, forty five this), bloody pressure was, similarly, in the borderline low-risk range. As was this blogger's cholesterol level (slightly up on the last check up but nothing at all concerning). Kidney, eye and feet tests were also fine. Yer actual Keith Telly Topping will be having a telephone chat with Doctor Chris next week but, the general consensus seems to be, once again, 'whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it.'

Meanwhile, on a marginally-related note, this blogger managed to break one of his teeth a couple of weeks ago - not even biting on anything particularly hard, either. Only Keith Telly Topping can manage such malarkey, dear blog reader. Here was what was left of the filling after said soft-biting incident.

Nasty, eh? Anyway, he rang his dentist, explained that he was not in any pain and, therefore, he realised that he was not an emergency case but he thought he'd better let them know about the situation. This blogger was pleasantly surprised by the response - they are running a limited service at the moment but, obviously, they're prioritising certain cases over others so the receptionist told me that a dentist would ring me back in a few days and arrange a convenient time for me to pop in and get it sorted. God bless the National Health Service (dental division). Indeed, that happened and, last Friday, this blogger rocked-up for his appointment with the drill. The broken molar was capped and well-filled and the Novocaine eventually wore off (coming down was not, especially, unpleasant, let it be noted). The appointment was supposed to be at 3pm but they rang the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House that morning and asked if this blogger could come in a bit earlier? '2.30,' the reception asked. 'Not particularly, but it's a bit awkward trying to eat everything on the other side of my mouth' this blogger replied. True story.

As noted in the last bloggerisationisms update, this blogger is currently busy compiling the From The North 'best and worst TV of the year' awards. And, it's going quite well thus far even if this blogger does say so himself. There will be, approximately seventy or thereabouts TV shows featuring in the various award lists and Keith Telly Topping has already managed to research and write up the entries for about a third of them. Usually, this highlight of the From The North calendar is written in one long coffee-fuelled writing session around late November and takes this blogger about a week to ten days of non-stop work to pull together. But this year, having had to previously amend his modus operendi in 2019 due to work commitments, this blogger has again taken to writing it in smaller, more manageable chunks over the course of a couple of months. It's rather therapeutic as it happens, albeit, this blogger is mainly doing the 'best of' entries at the moment; by the time he gets down to the twenty five or so programmes that he really didn't like, one imagines his state of temporal grace will have worn somewhat thin. As with previous years, Keith Telly Topping Presents ... The From The North TV Awards (2020) will be published for all the world to see on this blog in a few weeks time. Book your seats early, dear blog reader, it's going to be large.

This blogger was jolly startled to wake up on Tuesday morning and be confronted by the following staggering sight from the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House front room window. It was looking like there might be a wee bit of rain later in the day. Either that of The Apocalypse was a-cometh. Which, hey, given the current state of the planet might not, necessarily, be an entirely bad thing.

Yer actual Keith Telly Topping, however, decided it was (just) more likely to be the former and so grabbed an umbrella for his forthcoming trip down the shops. All the sensible kiddies do it, they reckon.

Earlier this week, this blogger received an e-mail from someone asking if Keith Telly Topping's IMDB page is, indeed, his. Odd question, you may think. This blogger told the enquiree that no, it actually belongs to that professor from Dundee University who also shares Keith Telly Topping's Amazon page. As for whomsoever the chap is that's featured on Wikipedia your guess, dear blog reader, is every bit as good as this blogger's.

Meanwhile, dear blog reader, it's Friday night at the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House; a nice, tasty chicken and king prawn curry and an episode of Qi. What more, in all honesty, could any person wish for? (All right, a Big Dirty Woman would be the deal-breaker, admittedly ...)

An important observation: By Hell, but TV continuity announcers get their money for nowt, do they not? 'And now on Dave, tonight's movie The Da Vinci Code, based on the international best seller. Of the same name.' Well, it's not going to have been based on the international best seller Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang, is it?

And now, a public service announcement. With guitars. And, you know, pom-poms ...

Mad as toast. From that, dear blog reader, to the semi-regular From The North favourite 'a few items which caught (and, briefly, retained) this blogger's attention on the BBC News website.' Starting with 'Murder Hornet': First Nest Found In US Eradicated With Vacuum Hose. Cos, it's the only language these Murder Hornet understand, clearly.

Next, Lily Allen: 'Women Masturbating In A Relationship Isn't Wrong' in which Lil opines: 'If you're hungry, you don't wait until your partner gets home to have a slice of toast.' Can't argue with that. In fact, this blogger rather fancies a hot slice right now. Smothered with plenty of butter. 

Then, there's Sunderland Bar Burglar Found Asleep Beside Cheesecake. Because, let's face it, whom amongst us could honesty resist such a yummy delight whilst mid-burgle?

Covid: Don't Let North Get 'Left Behind' Tory MPs Warn PM was also fascinating. If only because the Conservatives have always been such big supporters of The North, haven't they?

On a related-note, there's Some Blackburn Families 'Ignoring Guidelines'. Which may be true but it's hardly unique to Blackburn.

Frank Bough who died earlier this week was one of the highest-profile and highest-paid presenters on BBC Television. In a career spanning over three decades, he won a reputation for his relaxed and unflappable style on camera. He presented the BBC's flagship sports programme, Grandstand, and launched the corporation's Breakfast Time TV programme in 1983. But his career abruptly ended after lurid tabloid revelations.

Francis Joseph Bough was born in a two-up, two-down terrace house in the Fenton area of Stoke-on-Trent in January 1933. His father, who worked as an upholsterer, lost his job and the family moved to Oswestry in Shropshire, where Bough attended the local grammar school. He was a keen sportsman and also enjoyed acting, taking parts in a number of school Shakespeare productions. Although not particularly academic he won a scholarship to Merton College, Oxford, in the days when, as he later put it, 'Oxford valued a good all-rounder.' He was a talented footballer, winning a Blue, although his side were beaten by Cambridge in the Varsity match at Wembley. Bough did his National Service in the Royal Tank Regiment before getting a job as a graduate trainee with ICI in Billingham. He continued to play amateur football in the North East but became increasingly unhappy with his job, finally deciding he wanted to be a broadcaster. He pestered the BBC for two years and, in 1962, the corporation relented and gave him a three-month contract reporting on football matches in the Newcastle and Sunderland region. Other programmes followed on radio and television, mainly on sport, interviewing people like the golfer Peter Alliss, the runner Chris Brasher and the cricketer Cyril Washbrook, but also presenting the regional news programme Home At Six, later to become Look North. With his love of and knowledge of sport, he became the presenter of Sportsview in 1964, taking over from Peter Dimmock. The programme went out midweek and featured football as well as a number of pre-recorded items. He also presented and commentated on some of the early Match Of The Day's when regular commentators Ken Woolstenholme and David Coleman were otherwise occupied. He also began an eighteen-year stint hosting the BBC's Sports Review Of The Year, which later became Sports Personality Of The Year. Bough was part of the BBC's World Cup commentating team in 1966, notably covering one of the great upsets in the tournament's history when North Korea beat Italy at Ayresome Park. His stint on Sportsview ended in 1968 when David Coleman took the reins and the programme was renamed Sportsnight. However, it marked Bough's move to Grandstand, the BBC's flagship Saturday afternoon TV sports programme. In the days before sport sold its rights to the highest bidder, Grandstand covered a host of sports every week, including high-profile events such as the Olympic Games, FA Cup finals and the Grand National. These were mixed, depending on the season, with regular horse races, motor sport, athletics, cricket and rugby league.

It was on Grandstand, with its multitude of live feeds providing the potential for things to go wrong, that Bough's bomb-proof presenting style came into its own. Here he gained his reputation for remaining an oasis of calm no matter what technical hitches were occurring. His style prompted Michael Parkinson's remark that 'if my life depended on the smooth handling of a TV show he'd be the one I'd want in charge.' Bough, when once asked the secret of this ability to keep his head when all about him were losing theirs, said simply: 'I have a very long fuse.' He was a perfectionist, however. He said: 'We're not in the business of just getting by on this programme.' In 1972 he began presenting Nationwide, the BBC's magazine programme that went out after the early evening news. It was usually a fairly light-hearted programme, with opt-outs for BBC regions to focus on local news. However, he recalled some resistance from managers in BBC current affairs who were aghast that a man from the Sports Department was to present one of their programmes. In the same year, Bough had the harrowing experience of anchoring the BBC coverage of the Munich Olympics during which eleven members of the Israeli team were murdered by members of the Palestinian Black September terrorists. 'It was a bizarre situation,' he later said. 'The athletics continued while people were getting killed.' As one of television's best-known faces he appeared on the 1977 Morecambe & Wise Christmas Show. Together with a number of other presenters (like Parkinson and Michael Aspel) and newsreaders, including the rugby league commentator Eddie Waring, he donned a sailor suit to perform the legendary 'There Is Nothing Like A Dame' routine with Eric and Ernie.

By now Bough was beginning to tire of Grandstand. He still loved fronting the big sporting events but, as he later remarked: 'I began to feel I was play-acting when it was Widnes versus Batley on a wet November afternoon.' Hearing that the BBC was about to launch a new breakfast TV service in 1983, Bough approached the editor Ron Neil. Few presenters at the time had experience of presenting long and largely unscripted programmes and his stint at Grandstand got him the job. He proved a natural when the BBC launched Breakfast Time in January 1983, his laidback and comfortable style becoming an immediate hit with his early morning audience. His fellow presenter, Nick Ross, later recalled that Bough brought a much needed 'sense of serenity and composure' to the programme. In 1987, fed up with early mornings, Bough quit Breakfast Time to present the Holiday programme. It was to be a short stint. In 1988 he was sacked by the BBC after a newspaper carried lurid revelations that he had indulged in cocaine parties with prostitutes. The story came as a particular shock, given Bough's hitherto clean-cut family-man image. After being sacked by the BBC, Bough went into therapy to address his drug habit and picked up work with the London commercial radio station LBC, with LWT, presenting its Six O'Clock Live show and with Sky TV and there was a return to sports broadcasting for ITV's initial rugby World Cup coverage, but his renaissance was short-lived. In 1992 he was photographed leaving a sadomasochistic prostitute's flat that, according to newspaper reports, featured a cage and school canes. Bough felt he was being got at, complaining to the Evening Standard: 'It is a horrendous experience. You are followed day and night. One paper fully admits that they have dogged my footsteps for seven years, waiting for me to trip up. They catch you, they strip you bare and ravish you and then they move on to other people. Everybody in this country has a sex life. Surely they have a right to enjoy that? I have been weak and I have been silly: what can I say?' There was a brief return to the airwaves on an independent local radio station but, by 1996, Bough had disappeared from public view. In the following years he remained out of sight, turning down a chance to return to the screen when Breakfast celebrated its twenty fifth anniversary in 2006. However, in 2014 it was announced that he would step back into the public arena and contribute to a BBC documentary looking at thirty years of Breakfast TV in the UK. Frank Bough was one of Britain's most consummate broadcasters, who won a legion of fans for his calm and friendly manner. He was always worried that he would be remembered only for the tabloid headlines rather than for his many successful years in front of a camera. 'It was a brief but appalling period in my life,' Bough said. 'Don't condemn my entire career for a brief episode I regret.' In retirement, Bough joined a local choir near his home in Berkshire and largely refused to give interviews. He tended his garden and listened to music. In 2001 he underwent a liver transplant following the discovery of a tumour. Bough is survived by Nesta, whom he married in 1959 and their three sons, David, Stephen and Andrew.

Bobby Ball, one half of the comedy double act Cannon and Ball, has died at the age of eventy six after testing positive for coronavirus. His manager, Phil Dale, said in a statement: 'It is with great personal sadness that on behalf of Yvonne Ball and the family and Tommy Cannon, I announce that Bobby Ball passed away at Blackpool Victoria hospital on 28 October 2020. Bobby had been taken to the hospital for tests as he started with breathing problems. At first it was thought to be a chest infection but a test proved positive for Covid-19. His wife, Yvonne, said the hospital and staff could not have been more wonderful, as they were outstanding in their care of duty and they did everything possible for him and she cannot praise them enough. She said that the family and Tommy would like to express their sincere thanks to the many, many people who have been fans of Bobby and they know that they will all share in part the great loss and total sadness that Yvonne, the family and Tommy all feel.' Ball was born Robert Harper in January 1944. A keen amateur singer, he found fame on the comedy circuit and later with The Cannon & Ball Show alongside his lifelong friend Tommy Cannon.

The pair, who met in Oldham, where they worked at a welding factory, began their careers playing pubs and clubs before their first forays into television on Opportunity Knocks in 1969 and on Granada TV's The Wheeltappers & Shunters Social Club in 1974. The Cannon & Ball Show was first broadcast on ITV in 1979 and it continued until 1988, garnering huge audiences. Although somewhat 'old school' in terms to format, there was a certain surreal anarchy about the duo - in particular Ball's aggressive joke-telling and physical comedy - which drew several of the new wave of British comedians to them as guest stars (Rik Mayall, for instance). In 1982, the duo made a film The Boys In Blue although it was a - not entirely undeserved - flop at the box office. Bobby also created the BBC children's cartoon series Juniper Jungle, which was broadcast in 1992. Though their popularity on TV waned as tastes changed, the pair continued to perform in theatre and panto together through the 1990s and into the following decade. Ball also appeared in TV series as diverse as Last Of The Summer Wine, Heartbeat, Mount Pleasant, Benidorm, The Cockfields and won a whole new audience playing Lee Mack's reprobate father in the popular sitcom Not Going Out.

With Cannon, he took part in I'm A Z-List Former Celebrity Desperate To Get My Boat-Race Back On TV ... Please Vote For Me To Stay Here As Long As Possible (I'll Even Eat Worms If You Want) in 2005. In an interview in 2014, Ball recalled falling out with Cannon for three years in the 1980s. 'We started on the shop floor as welders, we went through eighteen years in the clubs and then we got big. We were surrounded by all these people who were gossiping. They wanted to divide and conquer and instead of sitting down and saying "what's wrong?", we stopped speaking,' he said. The pair later reconciled and both became devout Christians, eschewing the hedonistic lifestyle they had enjoyed at the height of their fame. In 2015 it was reported that Ball had begun giving comedy lessons to vicars so they could liven up their sermons. In a statement quoting Ball's catchphrase 'Rock on, Tommy,' Cannon said: 'Rock on, my good friend, I can't believe this, I'm devastated.' Bobby is survived by Yvonne, to whom he was married for forty six years and their children Robert, Darren and Joanne.

According to legend, in 1968 Manchester United arrived in Argentina to play Estudiantes (striped shirts, black panties) in the World Club Championship. As their coach drove down the motorway they saw four banners. The first three read, 'Bobby Charlton, El Campeone', 'Denis Law, El Rey' and 'George Best, El Beatle'. The fourth read: 'Nobby Stiles, El Bandido'! Triumphant, toothless and twirling. Nobby Stiles' dancing was one of the defining images of England's 1966 World Cup victory - he jigged around the perimeter of the Wembley pitch, false teeth out, red socks pulled down to his ankles, tightly gripping the Jules Rimet Trophy in his raised left hand. It was quite a sight. Stiles, who has died aged seventy eight after a long illness, endeared himself to an entire nation with those impulsive, now iconic, post-match celebrations. And, that feeling is not limited just to the generation lucky enough to witness his country's finest football moment first hand. 'Kids of my grandkids' age, they come up to me and go: "Hey, you, you're the fella with no teeth who danced round Wembley, aren't you?,"' he told the Gruniad in 2002. 'In a way, you end up belonging to everyone.' Earlier in that glorious summer of 1966, England's enforcer was not unanimously popular. He was with the supporters, of course - they mostly loved him - but definitely not with the media or with the Football Association. Eventually, the one-time Catholic altar boy won over the critics who were far from enamoured with his combative style. But the modest Mancunian - a kind, warm and unassuming family man off the pitch, rather contradictory to his on-field persona - will be forever remembered as a national hero.

Born Norbert Peter Stiles in May 1942, in Collyhurst - a post-industrial suburb to the North of Manchester city centre - he realised his childhood dream by joining his beloved Manchester United as an apprentice in November 1959. In his 2003 autobiography, he wrote that he had been born 'a half-blind dwarf who was bombed by the Germans and run over by a trolley bus when he was on.' His father, Charlie, was an undertaker: 'When we got the call to go to Old Trafford to sign my contract, he said: "Jump in son and I will take you down there." Now "jump in son' meant in his hearse,"' Stiles remembered. A schoolboy international, he had first joined the club as fifteen year old in 1957 and shared a dressing room with legends including his idol, Eddie Colman. 'My uncle Peter used to take me to Old Trafford and Colman was my hero,' he said. 'Two hours before every match, we would arrive at the ground and because we were so close to the pitch, I could literally touch him as he ran down the wing. At five foot seven he was, like me, one of the smallest in the team. But he had a swagger. Although he looked chunky for his size, he was devastatingly quick over ten to fifteen yards and - something not many people appreciated - [and] he was a strong, committed tackler.' In Eamon Dunphy's book A Strange Kind Of Glory the author (a former teammate) recalled Stiles being given Colman's boots after Eddie's death in the Munich disaster. Nobby, a five foot six inch full-back, was handed his first-team debut in 1960, though only after being sent for an eye test by United's manager, Matt Busby, who was concerned about the number of 'mistimed' tackles made by the teenager. Fitted with jam-jar spectacles off the pitch and contact lenses on it, Stiles' eye for a tigerish tackle instantly improved. A bit. Then Busby had the vision to make a brave tactical decision which would change the trajectory of Stiles' career. The Scot's dilemma was this: he needed an energetic half-back (a defensive midfielder in modern parlance) to break up the opposition attacks and feed his forward line of Bobby Charlton, George Best and Denis Law. Stiles fitted the bill perfectly. He became the fulcrum of the United side which won the 1965 First Division title, eventually catching the eye of England's manager Alf Ramsey as he tried to mastermind the host nation's World Cup assault the following year.

Like Busby, Ramsey knew he had to maximise the talents of Charlton who was central to his plans. He had youngsters like Martin Peters and Alan Ball to do the running leaving Bobby time to find space and create chances for himself, Jimmy Greaves and Geoff Hurst. But, he needed someone to actually win the ball first. Like Busby, Ramsey turned to Stiles. Nobby made his England debut against Scotland at Wembley in April 1965, cementing his place over the next twelve months with a series of zealous, tough performances. But his aggressive ball-winning technique did not please the purists in the media, even during the 1966 World Cup. 'I got absolutely slaughtered in the papers,' Stiles said. 'My job was to win it, give it to Bobby and let him get on with it. The criticism never put me off.' That criticism was not only from journalists, though. Even the FA did not like the balding midfielder's destructive manner. After receiving a retrospective booking following the final group game against France - for what can be somewhat euphemistically described as a 'robust' challenge on Les Bleus playmaker Jacques Simon - the governing body demanded Ramsey drop Stiles for the quarter-final against Argentina. Ramsey refused. 'I was a liability, they said,' Stiles recalled. 'Alf told them he'd resign if he couldn't pick who he wanted. He was prepared to resign in the middle of a World Cup over me. I never found that out until he had died. What a man.'

Ramsey's resistance was vindicated. Not only did Stiles help see off a hostile Argentine side - furiously described as 'animals' by the usually placid Ramsey - he then nullified Portuguese superstar Eusébio in the semi-final as England reached the Wembley showpiece. 'Alf always called me by my full name, Norbert. Just before the Portugal match he took me to one side and said: "Norbert, I want you to take Eusébio out,"' Stiles said. 'I replied: "Do you mean for the game Alf, or for good?"' Eusébio survived, but Portugal didn't. And the rest is etched in English sporting history. Tenacious, aggressive, dirty - descriptions all given to Stiles' style. After all, he did not earn his 'Toothless Tiger' nickname for nothing. But dismissing Stiles as some sort of football Machiavelli would be a gross misjudgement. 'I remember asking Sir Alf once about his 1966 World Cup team,' former Manchester United manager Sir Alex Ferguson said. 'He says he had five world-class players and Nobby was one of them. A great reader of the game - Bobby Charlton always mentions that - influenced the team, could tackle, could pass.' Stiles was selected for the England squad which contested the 1968 European Championships, but the holding role in midfield had been taken by Tottenham's Alan Mullery. Nobby played just once for England in 1969 and twice in 1970. He was selected by Ramsey for the 1970 World Cup in Mexico, but only as Mullery's understudy and remained on the bench. While Stiles will forever be remembered for his influential part in England's 1966 triumph, he will also remain a hero in his home city. Stiles made almost four hundred appearances for The Red Devils between 1960 and 1971, helping them win two league titles (1965 and 1967) and - more notably - the European Cup in 1968 where, once again, he had the task of keeping Eusébio quiet as United beat Benfica at Wembley.

He remains one of only three Englishmen - along with Charlton and Liverpool's Ian Callaghan - to win both a World Cup winner's medal and the European Cup. After leaving Old Trafford, he ended his playing days with brief spells at Middlesbrough and Preston North End, before moving into coaching at Deepdale. However, his managerial career failed to match the same success he enjoyed as a player. The low times which followed his retirement from football and unsuccessful foray into management culminated in thoughts of suicide as he drove his car down the M6 early in 1989. 'Everyone remembers you for the good times but obviously people have bad times as well, everybody, not just me,' Stiles told BBC Sport in 2003. 'You have to go through things - it is the only way you gain experience. The time I had in management was all part of learning and all part of life. In my case it made me realise I was no good at it.' While Stiles felt he had nothing left to offer in management, others saw an opportunity to maximise his talents - namely a wealth of football experience and a trait of being refreshingly honest. United invited him back as youth team coach in 1989, nurturing the likes of Ryan Giggs, Gary Neville, David Beckham and Nicky Butt - a player who reminded Stiles much of himself - from the academy to the first team. Known for being vocal on the pitch, he became a big hit on the after-dinner speaking circuit, regaling attentive punters with dressing-room tales before deteriorating health eventually took him out of the public eye. One common story revolved around the simple instruction he used to be given by Busby before every match: 'Norrie, let him know you're there in there first five minutes.' It was not meant to be a pleasant introduction. But the likeable Stiles, who once said he wanted to be 'remembered as a happy person,' has left a more positive lasting impression on millions of English football fans. In 1968, Stiles released his first autobiography, Soccer My Battlefield; his second, After The Ball, followed in 2003. In 2007, he was inducted into the English Football Hall of Fame. In November 2013, it was announced that Stiles was diagnosed with prostate cancer and in 2016, that he was suffering from advanced dementia. He was too ill to attend a celebration dinner to mark the fiftieth anniversary of England's 1966 World Cup win. In 2017, an acclaimed BBC documentary on the subject of brain injuries amongst retired footballers presented by Alan Shearer included an interview with Stiles' son, John talking about his father's distressing illness. Stiles married Kay Giles in June 1963. His wife was the sister of Nobby's then-teammate at Old Trafford, Johnny Giles. He is survived by Kay and their three sons - John, Peter and Rob. 

This week the BBC have announced new social media guidance for staff. Perhaps fortunately, yer actual Keith Telly Topping finished freelancing for his beloved Beeb a few years ago otherwise, in all likelihood From The North might be subject to more scrutiny than is entirely healthy from The Sixth Floor. That said, of course, this blogger will defend his own right to free speech to the end and, will also note, that at least in regard to political balance, this blog has always been entirely even-handed there. Treating, as we do, all politicians with the same level of utter contempt that they so richly deserve.

A case in point; this week's news that Comrade Corbyn has been extremely suspended from The Labour Party for his naughty (alleged) anti-Semitic ways (or, let's be charitable, his apparent laissez-faire attitude towards some properly horrible, wicked elements within the party that he was, until recently, responsible for the conduct of) led to a predictably rabid response from his more loony supporters. This blogger particularly enjoyed reading the crass frothing-at-the-mouth ranting of that Bitter Old Red oaf Len McCluskey. McCluskey - whose union is one of Labour's biggest donors, giving around seven million knicker since the start of last year - warned that any failure to reinstate Comrade Corbyn, like, instantly, would leave 'a split party doomed to defeat' at the next general erection. Because, of course, under the great and wholly benevolent leadership of Comrade Corbyn they had such a fantastic result in the last one, didn't they? Jeremy Corbyn's favourite role, it would appear, is that of 'the victim.' He led Labour to such a calamitous defeat at the last general erection that its parliamentary representation it currently its lowest level since 1935. Yet, he seems to see himself not as the perpetrator of this disaster but as its casualty. He presided over an anti-Semitism scandal unprecedented in the party's history but that, also, in his own eyes (and those of his acolytes) cannot be his fault. He has been suspended from the party after refusing to accept the - damning - findings of the Equality & Human Rights Commission's investigation into that scandal and - yet again - someone else is again to blame rather than Jezza. All he had to do this week was to say, publically: 'I accept the findings of the Commission. I'm sorry.' But he couldn't even do that. As the Gruniad's Andrew Rawnsley put it Corbyn’s 'shameless self-pity betrays the victims of the anti-Semitism scandal.' Revolutionary socialists, dear blog reader. They haven't got a bloody clue ...

And, just to provide a bit of - necessary - BBC-style 'balance', dear blog reader, this blogger noted with something approaching righteous great vengeance and furious anger the comments of the (gobshite) Workington Tory MP, one Mark Jenkinson (no, me neither): 'I know in my constituency that, as tiny as a minority it might be, food parcels are sold or traded' for illegal substances. Which brought the magnificent response from a lady interviewed by BBC News: 'Dealers don't swap drugs for a tin of beans.' As for (gobshite) Workington Tory MP, one Mark Jenkinson (no, me neither), dear blog reader - 'oh, chinny reck-on. Pure Jimmy Hill.' If you're in Workington and you voted for this clown at the last general erection then you really need to take a good hard look at yourselves and work out when, exactly, you drank the Kool Aid and your heart turned to stone. It remains a truism, dear blog reader, but it's a necessary one to repeat with some regularity; there are many good people in the world, there are some bad people and there are some, genuine, twenty four carat wicked fekkers. Most of us are somewhere in the middle just trying, hard (and not always successfully), to get through life without causing too much damage to either ourselves or anyone else. And then, there are some people who are just scum. Most of them Tory MPs, seemingly.

The winner of the latest From The North headline of the week award. Leeks Mistaken For Machete Spark Aberdeen Police Probe. Err ... right. 

Although, Should We Make Holograms Of The Dead? ran that one a very close second.

And finally, dear blog reader, Hallow'een fans are in for 'an extra spooky treat,' apparently, as a full Moon is set to light up the night sky on Saturday. Traditional festivities will look very different this year because of The Plague. However, on the plus side, aspiring werewolves will be able to practise their howling to good effect. This will be the first time since 1974 that there has been a Hallow'een full Moon across the UK, according to Astronomy Ireland. So, make the most of it because, according to rumour, you might not have the chance of getting out much in the immediate future.

Speaking of which ...

This blogger's old mate Ian Abrahams noted, in relation to Bashing Boris's - much-delayed - State Of A Nation In Distress on Saturday night: 'This is like sitting through Grandstand waiting for Doctor Who to start circa 1972... Cut to the chase.' To which this blogger replied: 'To be fair, Little Mix: The Search got postponed. So, you know, every cloud and all that ...'

This blogger is also indebted to another good mate, Christian Wheeldon, for this observation. Oh. God.

Take care of yourselves, dear blog reader. Stay safe and avoid all contact with ... well, anyone, basically. From the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, it's goodnight and, you know, 'be lucky.'

A Most Poor Man Made Tame To Fortune's Blows

The BBC has released two new images from the upcoming Doctor Who episode Revolution Of The Daleks. The festive special will see the return of one of The Doctor's most long-standing and, you know, hardest foes. The story begins where the previous series ended: With The Doctor banged-up in an intergalactic high-security Slammer. Isolated, alone, with no hope of escape and, generally, not very happy with her lot. Albeit, armed with some chalk.

Far away on Earth, meanwhile, her friends, Yaz, Ryan and Graham have to try to pick up the pieces of their lives without her. But it's not an easy task. Old habits die hard, especially when they discover a disturbing plan being formed. A plan which involves ... a Dalek (the title sort of gave that away, really, didn't it?) How can you fight a Dalek, without The Doctor? Poke it's eye out? No, sorry, that's 'How do you make a Venetian blind.' Always get those two mixed up.

Though it ended in 2006, The West Wing - the greatest TV show in the history of the medium ... that doesn't have the words 'Doctor' and 'Who' in the title - never really ended in many people's hearts. Fans of the US political drama have longed for some form of revival almost from the day that the final episoide was broadcast (the fact that the entire Barack Obama presidency was, effectively, The West Wing series eight notwithstanding). This remains true of this blogger who once, a lifetime ago, wrote a couple of books about the drama. It was with considerable anticipation from the masses, therefore, that in August 2020, it was announced Martin Sheen, Rob Lowe, Dulé Hill, Allison Janney, Richard Schiff, Bradley Whitford and Janel Moloney (plus, many of the supporting cast) would reprise their roles. For a stage version of the acclaimed 2001 episode Hartsfield's Landing, intended to raise awareness and support for When We All Vote, a non-profit organisation founded to increase participation in US elections. 'We've gotten the band back together,' as Brad Whitford said at the beginning of the broadcast. Production took place Los Angeles' Orpheum Theatre, the episode was shown on 15 October on HBO Max and this blogger finally got a copy sent over from the US this week. The role of Leo McGarry was played by Sterling Brown, the late John Spencer having, of course, sadly died in 2005. Emily Procter read the stage directions and Marlee Matlin and Elisabeth Moss also made appearances. The production included additional material written by creator Aaron Sorkin and Eli Attie and was directed by Thomas Schlamme and act-breaks featured guest appearances from When We All Vote co-founders Michelle Obama and Lin-Manuel Miranda, plus former president Bill Clinton and Samuel L Jackson. Music was performed by West Wing composer Snuffy Walden and The Avett Brothers.

Perceptions that this might have been a case of 'preaching to the converted' - again, as Whitford said in the introduction, 'arrogant actors telling you what to do' - the reception for the production was hugely positive from both critics and viewers alike. CNN's Brian Lowry characterising the special to 'approximate the experience of watching a stage play, only with a best-seat-in-the-house view,' including 'shooting the performers from behind and revealing the rows and rows of empty seats,' what Lowry considered 'a poignant reminder of what's been lost on the theatrical front since the pandemic began.' Patrick Gomez of The AV Club wrote 'the special always stays on the right side of being a Very Special Episode.' Ben Travers from IndieWire considered '[as] a reimagining of a strong television episode, the new version of Hartsfield's Landing plays out beautifully.' Daniel Fienberg of The Hollywood Reporter added it was '[a] solid recreation of a solid episode for a solid cause.' Deadline said that the episode was A Sobering Reminder Of When Presidents Were Presidential, At Least On TV. From this blogger's viewpoint, watching this was both a welcome and a sad experience. Welcome, obviously, because this is The West Wing and it was, frankly, stunning - indeed, the only way it could, possibly, have been any better would've been if Josh and Donna had got their kit(s) off and done The Sex right there on the stage for all to see. (That may, admittedly, be the 'shipper-fan lurking within this blogger having, briefly, taken over this review.) This blogger virtually chanted his way through the episode like he was at a rock gig knowing, as he does, that particular script backwards. 'You're a good father, you don't have to act like it. You're the President, you don't have to act like it. You're a good man, you don't have to act like it. You're not a regular guy. You're not "just folks", you're not plain-spoken ... Do not, do not, do not act like it!'

But it was also sad because it was an, at times, awkward and uncomfortable reminder of an era - not that long ago either - when television made this kind of challenging, thoughtful, sincere, outspoken drama effortlessly. And now ... it doesn't very much - if at all. The world has become a colder, harsher, more nasty and far less inclusive place, dear blog reader (and this was before Coronavirus came along and made the situation a hundred times worse). And - this is the real tragedy - we are all of us, to a greater or lesser degree, responsible for the critical and commercial conditions in which such a lack of ambition, empathy and, frankly, decency exists.

It's worth considering this, dear blog reader; when Hartsfield's Landing was first broadcast, America's president at the time was George W Bush and pretty much everyone who hadn't voted for him in the US (and everyone outside America) considered that he was, without any shadow of a doubt, the worst president that had ever, or would ever, be (even worse than Nixon fer Christ's sake). There couldn't possibly be anyone worse than Dubbya out there, that wasn't even open to question. Almost two decades on and A West Wing Special To Benefit When We All Vote was a useful, necessary, reminder of a truism which the original series included as a specific plot point on more than one occasion: Be very careful what you wish for, dear blog reader. Because it might just come true.

This blogger first saw the band The Go-Go's supporting Madness and The Specials at a club in Sunderland in April 1980, dear blog reader. In front of an audience composed almost entirely of mods and skinheads (who, even though they both liked the two headliners hated each other and, at various points between sets enjoyed kicking the shit out of anyone within easy reach; thus acting out, with surreal accuracy, the opening verse of The Specials' song 'Do The Dog'), a five-piece female group from Los Angeles went down, predictably, like a sack a diarrhoea with the majority of those in the gaff. This blogger thought they were adorable; nothing particularly special musically at that stage in their development but he particularly enjoyed a moment when one of the numbskulls in the crowd shouted 'Get yer tits out.' 'We're nice girls, we don't do that,' replied Belinda Carlisle. 'Yeah,' added Jane Wiedlin. 'So, go fuck yourself!' The place promptly erupted in a hail of beer bottles, hockle and incandescent fury. How could one not fall, instantly, in love with that?

Alison Ellwood's superb documentary about the band which this blogger watched on Sky this week was a timely reminder that women in rock and/or roll face some massive disadvantages. Due to their lack of a collective penis, mainly. A story of triumph against all the depressingly sexist odds - including coke binges, heroin addiction, playing Saturday Night Live drunk, heart surgery, bi-polarity, break-ups, reunions, more break-ups and so on - The Go Go's mixed contemporary interviews with Carlisle, Wiedlin, Charlotte Caffey, Kathy Valentine and Gina Schock, plus management, former members and friends (including Lee Thompson and Lynval Golding) with much, impressive, archive footage. They gave Rolling Stain magazine a, long-overdue, kicking for their outrageous 1982 cover-shoot of the group in their vests and panties although the constant whinging about the fact that they haven't been nominated for the Rock and/or Roll Hall of Fame yet quickly grew tiresome. You're in a very select group, ladies - neither have The Specials or Madness. Or The Jam or The Smiths. Or Kraftwerk for that matter! They bitched about each other with considerable glee but, as Schock perceptively noted, sisters fight with each other all the time. And, at the climax, they recorded their first new song in nearly two decades, a sharp little jangly rocker 'Club Zero'. Ellwood - as with her previous documentaries about The Eagles and the Laurel Canyon scene - drew together the various strands of the story with wit, economy and knowing exactly which bits to leave on the cutting room floor (Schock and Valentine suing their bandmates over royalties being the most obvious example of something, perhaps wisely, left with their lips being, as it were, sealed). What we ended up with was, actually, genuinely heart-warming and a bloody good excuse to pull out ones well-worn copy of Beauty & The Beat. And, not for nothing, but they remain - all of them - fine-lookin' ladies (especially Kathy who is still effortlessly packing that 'slightly surly West Coast rock-chick thing' she always had going for her). It seems the love affair which began for this blogger in Sunderland in 1980 hasn't ended yet.

Production on two From The North comedy favourites, Qi and Would I Lie To You?, has been badly affected by the same Coronavirus malarkey which has conspired to fek-up so much else this year - on TV and elsewhere. In the case of Qi, the show was nine episodes into production on its R series when lockdown occurred in March. Two further episodes were then filmed without a studio audience and proved to be, sadly, disastrously disappointing (the fact that one of them featured both the extremely annoying Holly Walsh and scowly-faced misery-guts Bridget Christie didn't help matters, admittedly). It was something which few of us had previously considered but, in truth the audience makes Qi work (another long-running BBC comedy panel show, Have I Got News For You, had a similarly awkward transition from a studio production to being filmed using Zoom in people's kitchens during March and April. That didn't come out very well as an audience spectacle either). According to a report in August, further series R Qi episodes were planned to be recorded with a 'virtual audience' via Zoom. Whether (or when) that will happen has yet to be confirmed. At least the first nine episodes were, mostly, up to the usual high standard and, in particular, this blogger was delighted to see the Goddamn righteous Benjamin Zephaniah making his Qi debut. Would I Lie To You? got the last few episodes of its thirteenth series out of the way early in the year before The Plague hit town (the one featuring Richard Osman and Steph McGovern being a particularly good example of the show at its best) but, thereafter there was silence regarding when it would return. Finally, last week, came some welcome news - via Reddit. Another batch of episodes has been filmed - importantly with audiences - earlier this month, though there has no announcement as yet when they will be broadcast. And yes, before you ask dear blog reader, series regular, From The North favourite and genuine twenty four carat national treasure Bob Mortimer will feature in one episode (along with another much-loved contributor, Miles Jupp). Thankfully, Dave's virtual wall-to-wall repeats of both shows have kept audience's entertained as they contemplated the inherent ludicrous nature of existence for the past few months. What would we do without Dave?

On a somewhat related theme, given that lockdown is, effectively, upon us all once more this blogger has just started compiling this year's From The North 'best and worst TV of the year' awards. It'll be a good six weeks before it's finished, obviously (the annual award bloggerisationism usually tend to get posted on this blog around the end of November or the start of December). But at least writing it will keep this blogger off the streets for a while. Which is, sort of, the point, I guess. As noted previously, each year when Keith Telly Topping posts these awards, he usually gets a handful of e-mails saying something along the lines of '... but, you missed off [insert own favourite here].' Since answering such comments is always a right flaming pain in the dong, it's worth stating once again that these awards represent what this blogger has been watching and enjoying (or, in the case of anything featuring Bloody Jack Bloody Whitehall, really disliking) during the last year. If a programme is not mentioned, it is either because Keith Telly Topping didn't see it or did, but didn't consider it worthy of inclusion, thereupon. If, when it's published, you disagree with anything therein (or, not therein) dear blog reader, please feel free to start your own blog and do your own best and worst awards.

It was proper fantastic to see the legend that is Mitch Benn as a contestant on Only Connect a couple of weeks ago. Second best thing about that episode, in fact, after The Divine Victoria's joke about a salmon.

And now, dear blog reader, a new From The North semi-regular feature, Great Moments in Rock and/or Roll History. Number Thirty Two: The day Thelma Barlow got top billing over two members of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them).

WANTED: Drummer for four-piece two guitar/bass popular beat combo with recording contract and some chart potential. Must have excellent hair. No time wasters, please.

For reasons which are far too complicated to go into at this time, for the past few months this blogger has been unable to play any of the - not inconsiderable number of - non-Region 2 DVDs which he has picked up over the years. Fortunately, with a bit of fiddling to the leads on one of Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House's several DVD players (the oldest one Keith Telly Topping has, as it happens) which is multi-region, this blogger managed to connect it to Stately Telly Topping Manor's massive flat-screen telly. And, therefore, he is delighted to report that this is, once again, a multi-region Plague House in all its forty two-inch widescreen mega-glory. Which is nice.

Now, a few items which caught (and, briefly, retained) this blogger's attention on the BBC News website. Firstly, Fleetwood Fishmonger Saves 'One In Thirty Million' Orange Canadian Lobster. A lovely, genuinely heart-warming story. Though, this blogger is still willing to bet that the lobster in question would've tasted great if garnished with lemon drizzle and served on a plate of chips and/or rice. Just saying.

Another heart-warming story, Billionaires See Fortunes Rise By Twenty Seven Per Cent During The Pandemic. Because, let's face it, we were all so worried about how those guys were doing during these dark and desperately troubled times.

Also, there was Durex Condom Sales Jump After Virus Rules Relaxed. No shit? Well, what a surprise ...

Of course, it's worth pointing out that lockdown led many people to discover all manner on new forms of in-home entertainment.

To sum up the gist of this story, those taking part in last month's 'Hell No, We Don't Wanna Wear A Mask' rally in London appear to have consisted of an unholy alliance between conspiracy theorists, Covid-deniers, extreme right-wing troublemakers, extreme left-wing troublemakers and people who just fancied a right good punch up with Plod. God bless this virus, therefore, for bringing together this wide - and highly disparate - group of individuals. So, we all know whom to avoid in future (if we weren't avoiding them already). Listen, you stupid, selfish bastards, it's very simple - you may not have any concern about your own safety and that's entirely fine. But, every time you breathe on any of us that do wish to, you know, stay alive, you're not merely risking your own health. Please, this blogger says the following with all necessary respect, grow the fek up, will you. And do what you're told just like the rest of us. It's The Law. This particularly applies to students in Nottingham who are now working out how to pay their fines.

Sometimes, of course, BBC News provides some extremely wise words for us all to consider and reflect upon.

However, the worst piece news lately - by a considerable distance - came from the Gruniad Morning Star. Haven't we Northern folk suffered enough already without having him (and, presumably, his lute) inflicted upon us?

There is an Interweb meme which has been doing the rounds lately that you may be aware of, dear blog reader. It, or variants of it, have been seen all over the Twitter and Facebook pages of lots of people (who, seemingly, think they're being terrifically original when they post it). This blogger would like to assure all of you that his grandmother, Elizabeth MacKay Elliott Lamb, born in 1895, did precisely none of these things. Just so we're clear about that. He's less-certain about what Granny Telly Topping got up to, admittedly. 

Meanwhile, dear blog reader, with the arrival of autumn at the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, there have been a number of days where it's been more than a bit nippy in the gaff.

And thus, it did come to pass, dear blog reader, that yer actual Keith Telly Topping had spent one particular day virtually on the starve and, by 5.30pm he was, like, Pure Dead Hank Marvin, so he was. Thence, it further came to pass that he picked up the dog-and-bone and rang one of his local takeaways and sayeth unto Linda: 'Yer actual Keith Telly Topping realises it be-eth a Goddamn filthy night out tonight, but could you possibly deliver unto the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House at your earliest convenience a dozen of your finest salt and chilli prawns (with a side order of boiled rice) so that he may scoff these in his righteous hunger (with some freshly-cooked garlic bread). Because, yer actual really deserveth this happenstance in the area.' And lo, he saw that it was good. And this pleaseth yer actual Keith Telly Topping who sayeth unto the multitude 'I am satisfied.' Amen.

This blogger last did his - government sanctioned - weekly shop in town at M&S, Boots, Poundland, Greggs and Morrisons at the weekend. See below for proof of purchases. Yes, dear blog reader, this is a really bad photo, caused by Keith Telly Topping trying to do about eight things at once. He was going to take another one but, actually, he quite likes the 'action blur' on this; it makes it look as though the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House's comestibles are all in a state of perpetual motion. Which they aren't, incidentally, but it would be pure-dead-cool if they were. Anyway, it was a decent trip - a nice warm sunny early autumn day. And everyone this blogger encountered was really pleasant - he made sure, as he always tries to do, when having paid for his goods and/or services, to thank the checkout operator and/or bus driver, wish them a good day and add 'stay safe.' Bit of a cliché, this blogger is aware, but you'd be surprised at how few others one hears saying anything similar. And, to a man/woman, all of them replied 'thanks very much and the same to you.' Keith Telly Topping was, therefore, in a really smashing mood when he got to the bus stop outside Morrisons to come back to the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, put his feet up and rest his still troublesome bad back. And, at that precise moment, this blogger had his good mood shattered into a million tiny fragments when some spotty, lanky, skinny twentysomething twonk who wasn't wearing a mask sneezed all over this blogger from about two feet away. This blogger, thankfully, was wearing his mask but there's no telling what infections may have sneaked past the protection. So if, in about ten days time, Keith Telly Topping is in the Royal Victoria Infirmary on a ventilator, being pumped full of steroids (which, actually, sounds quite nice) and/or bleach and is at death's door, you'll know whom to blame.

Opening up his e-mail the following morning, this blogger found one which had the header Suffering from erectile dysfunction? Keith Telly Topping immediately responded to this with a reply headed Who have you been talking to?

And still, dear blog reader, From, The North's daily traffic continues to hover around an average of six thousand hits per day.

... From, it should be noted, a bewildering variety of dear blog readers around the globe. See if you can spot yourself.

A bit more politics, dear blog reader. And, the news that Mark Hamill now owns the Interweb. Not before time, either.

Frank Windsor, who has died aged ninety two was, as Detective Sergeant John Watt, one of the longest-serving coppers on TV - in Z Cars and several BBC sequels and spin-offs from 1962 through to 1978. At that point, Windsor returned to the theatre to play a dotty doctor in Tom Stoppard's Every Good Boy Deserves Favour at The Mermaid Theatre – with music by André Previn and directed by Trevor Nunn - revealing another side to his talent, that of an incisive and hilarious comic actor; he'd given us a taste of that when he took over briefly from Patrick Stewart as an absurdly barnstorming Lenin in Stoppard's Travesties at The Aldwych in 1974. But it proved impossible for him to shake off the long arm of the law enforcer entirely. Z Cars was one of the great dramas of its time and few dramatic double acts on the small screen - asie from Eric Morecambe and Ernie Wise - matched that of Stratford Johns as the truculent Detective Inspector Charlie Barlow and Windsor's stern, if infinitely more sympathetic, Watt as they chased down the criminals in Newtown, a fictional version of Kirkby in Merseyside.

Z Cars highlighted the issues of control in public and private arenas into the new postwar realities of the welfare state; unemployment, domestic violence, gang rivalry and cultural fragmentation. Week-in, week-out, brilliantly acted and produced, it was compelling viewing. It dealt with the realities of policing a large city; in tone it was a million miles away from the BBC's other popular crime drama of the era, Dixon Of Dock Green and made stars of many of its regular cast - including Brian Blessed, James Ellis, Jeremy Kemp and Colin Welland. After three years, in 1966, Barlow and Watt were detached, promoted - to Chief Superintendent and Chief Inspector, respectively - and relocated in a new series, Softly Softly, to the fictional region of Wyvern, somewhere near Bristol. They moved again, in 1969, to Thamesford constabulary's CID, the series renamed Softly Softly: Task Force. When Johns peeled off into his own series, Barlow At Large, Windsor as Watt battled on for another few years with a variety of different partners on Softly crime watch. But the pair were reunited in two mini-series within the franchise, the first, in 1973, reopening the case files on Jack The Ripper, the next - Second Verdict - re-examining other, more recent real-life murder cases.

Windsor, who was born Frank W Higgins, in Walsall - his father was an accountant in local government - was educated at Queen Mary's grammar school and trained for the stage in London at the Central School of Speech and Drama, still situated in the early 1950s at the Royal Albert Hall. He toured in Britain and India with the Elizabethan Theatre Company of Thane Parker, who also ran The Oxford Playhouse, where Parker appointed Peter Hall as artistic director in 1954. The actors alongside Windsor in that first Oxford season included Billie Whitelaw, Maggie Smith, Tony Church and a very young Ronnie Barker and Windsor soon moved into television playing the Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria in a BBC Sunday Night Theatre play of 1955 and, two years later, the Duke of Norfolk in an adaptation of Robert Bolt's A Man For All Seasons. Windsor's experience in Shakespeare with Parker made him well qualified to play the Earl of Warwick and Sir Walter Blunt, among other characters, in the landmark BBC series of Shakespeare histories, An Age Of Kings (1960). He played a dentist in Lindsay Anderson's new-wave classic This Sporting Life (1963), with Richard Harris, Rachel Roberts and William Hartnell, but his movie career - small parts in Peter Hammond's Spring & Port Wine (1970) with James Mason and John Schlesinger's Sunday Bloody Sunday (1971) with Glenda Jackson and Peter Finch aside - never really took off thanks to his regular police duties.

When he did break out, into the Stoppard stage roles, he underlined his rich vocal authority and commanding presence in another dimension. He followed up with a West End thriller, Mister Fothergill's Murder (1982) by Modesty Blaise author Peter O'Donnell at The Duke of York's, with Rula Lenska and David Horovitch and joined the cast of Hugh Whitemore's spies-in-suburbia drama Pack Of Lies at The Lyric in 1984. And, then there was a twelve-week national tour of Holmes & The Ripper. Television fame did not translate into theatrical stardom, perhaps unjustly and he spent the last twenty years of his active career appearing in such long-running series as Lovejoy, EastEnders (as Major Charlie Grace), Midsomer Murders, Peak Practice, Casualty and, in 2002, as Sir James Valentine, in Judge John Deed. He also appeared in The Avengers - 1968's Whoever Shot Poor George Oblique Stroke XR40?, the first episode of Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased), Headmaster, Middlemen, The Goodies (a gorgeously funny over-the-top turn as The Scoutfinder General in 1977's Scoutrageous), the 1979 version of Eric Sykes's The Plank, Play For Today, Thirty Minute Theatre, Into The Labyrinth, Chancer and September Song. He featured in Doctor Who twice. In 1983 he played the kindly Crusade-era nobleman Ranulf Fitzwilliam in the Peter Davison story The King's Demons. In 1989 he returned opposite Sylvester McCoy's Doctor playing, unsurprisingly, a police officer, Inspector Mackenzie, in Ghost Light.

He could never, quite, shake off John Watt - he even played versions of his most famous character in comedy series like The Detectives and Paul Merton's Life Of Comedy. He came close, though, as Gridley, 'the man from Shropshire,' in the BBC's second of their three versions of Dickens's Bleak House (1985, starring Diana Rigg and Denholm Elliott), making an excellent fist of the ruined old Chancery suitor with a combative look and a chafing, dissatisfied manner. In later years appeared in a number of television commercials advertising life-assurance policies for people over fifty, a role he was happy to parody in a sketch on Harry Hill's TV Burp. Windsor is survived by his wife, Mary Corbett, a former dancer and their daughter, Amanda. A son, David, died in a tragic car accident in 1997.

American singer-songwriter Johnny Nash, best known for the 1972 hit 'I Can See Clearly Now', has died aged eighty. Nash, whose health had been in decline for some time, died at his home of natural causes, his son told US media. The musician began singing as a child and made his major label debut with the 1957 song 'A Teenager Sings The Blues'. Nash, born in Houston, was one of the first non-Jamaican singers to record reggae music in Kingston. His single 'I Can See Clearly Now' sold more than a million copies and reached the top of the Billboard chart in 1972, where it remained for four weeks. He also had a number one hit in the UK in 1975 with 'Tears On My Pillow'. Nash also, famously, helped reggae legend Bob Marley sign a recording contract. Nash's covers of songs like 'Stir It Up' helped to bring Marley's music to a broader audience and the pair later collaborated on 'You Poured Sugar On Me'. In an interview with Zoo World magazine in 1973, Nash told Cameron Crowe that he hoped his music had wide appeal. 'I feel that music is universal. Music is for the ears and not the age. Everybody likes music, from eight to eighty. There are some people who say that they hate music,' he added. 'I've run into a few, but I'm not sure I believe them. Maybe they have never been without music.' Besides his son, John, Nash is survived by his wife, Carli.

Spencer Davis, one of the key figures of the 1960s beat scene, has died at the age of eighty one. The Welsh guitarist was the driving force behind The Spencer Davis Group, who scored transatlantic hits with 'Keep On Running', 'Somebody Help Me', 'Gimme Some Lovin' and 'I'm A Man'. The band, which also featured the teenage Stevie Winwood, toured with The Who and The Rolling Stones. Davis died in hospital on Monday, while being treated for pneumonia, his agent told the BBC. 'He was a very good friend,' said Bob Birk, who had worked with the musician for more than thirty years. 'He was a highly ethical, very talented, good-hearted, extremely intelligent, generous man. He will be missed.'

The son of a paratrooper, Davis was born in Swansea in 1939 and first started learning harmonica and the accordion at the age of six. He moved to London to work for the civil service at the age of sixteen, but later relocated to Birmingham, where he taught German by day and played in local clubs at night. Inspired by blues and skiffle, he formed a band called The Saints which, initially, included a pre-Rolling Stones Bill Wyman and also performed folk music with a young Christine Perfect. But it was with his eponymous rock group that he struck gold. Formed in 1963, The Spencer Davis Group featured Davis on guitar, sixteen year old Stevie Winwood on keyboard and vocals, his brother Muff on bass and Peter York on drums. Originally called The Rhythm & Blues Quartette, they changed their name in 1964 when Muff pointed out that Davis was the only one who enjoyed doing interviews - the logic being that the rest of the band could slope off to the pub while he handled the press. Their breakout hit, 'Keep On Running', was a cover of a song by West Indian performer Jackie Edwards. When it topped the UK charts in January 1966, it knocked The Be-Atles 'Day Tripper' from the top slot - and Davis received a telegram from the band congratulating him on the achievement.

The follow-up was delayed when Davis bashed his head on a car windscreen after braking to avoid a dog - but 'Somebody Help Me', another Jackie Edwards cover, gave the quartet a second number one in March. The band went on to prove they had songwriting chops of their own, with hit singles like the furious 'I'm A Man' and 'Gimme Some Lovin' both of which made the UK top ten. The Spencer Davis Group also recorded the famous theme song for the long-running children's TV show Magpie, under the pseudonym The Murgatroyd Band - a reference to the show's mascot, a fat cartoon magpie. The band starred in their own film, an (admittedly rather slight) musical comedy called The Ghost Goes Gear (1966), which found the band stranded in a haunted manor. Davis also made a cameo in The Be-Atles' TV movie Magical Mystery Tour, as one of the passengers. Hits followed in the US - including their gorgeous cover of 'Every Little Bit Hurts', although the band never toured there; while Davis's ability with languages (he was fluent in German, French and Spanish) helped the band further their career in Europe. Those linguistic capabilities even led to Davis recording a German version of 'The Age Of Aquarius' ('Aquarius Der Wassermann') in 1968 and earned him a lasting nickname: 'The Professor'.

However, the Spencer Davis Group came to an untimely end in 1967 when, at the height of their fame, when Winwood quit to form Traffic, leaving Davis without his dynamic frontman. The band recorded a few more minor hits, but broke up soon after, with Davis moving to California, where he embarked on a short-lived solo career. At the time, he later claimed, he was near to bankruptcy, thanks to a punitive contract with Island Records. 'I didn't realise what had been going on. I'd sold millions of records and hadn't seen a penny from them,' he told Music Mart magazine in 2005. 'In 1970, I was considering declaring bankruptcy, but I'd written a track with Eddie Hardin, called 'Don't Want You No More', which The Allman Brothers put on their Beginnings album. The damned thing sold six million copies. Suddenly a cheque for five thousand pounds arrived through the door and I'd never seen so much money in my life. I saw more money from that one song than I [received] from all the stuff that had been an Island production.' After confronting Island's owner, Chris Blackwell, over the issue, he was given a job in artist development at the label in the mid-1970s. There, he helped to promote newcomers like The Wailers, Robert Palmer and Eddie & The Hot Rods, as well as working alongside Winwood, who was now establishing himself as a solo artist. Davis returned to songwriting with 1984's Crossfire, which featured contributions from Dusty Springfield and Booker T Jones. He made numerous guest appearances with such headliners as The Grateful Dead and Hall & Oates, then formed The Classic Rock All Stars in 1993.

In 1996 he upgraded this to The World Classic Rockers, which included Randy Meisner from The Eagles, Carmine Appice from Vanilla Fudge and the former Paul McCartney sideman Denny Laine. In 2001, he began touring with a rebuilt Spencer Davis Group - albeit without the Winwood brothers. In 2006 he released the LP So Far, on which he looked back at his Welsh roots with songs such as 'The Swansea Shuffle' and 'Uncle Herman's Mandolin'. In 2017 The Spencer Davis Group played its last dates, utilising two different line-ups (both featuring Davis) for dates in Europe and the US. Birmingham International Jazz Festival founder Jim Simpson, who was told about Davis' passing by drummer Pete York, said: 'Spencer was a lovely man - always very courteous and a purist about music. The Spencer Davis Group stuck more to the blues and never became a fully-fledged rock band. Spencer was scholarly and well educated, very gentle and kind and his tastes in music were spot on.' The musician is survived by his long-time partner June Datne, three children - Lisa, Sarah and Gareth - and five grandchildren..

Margaret Nolan, the actress best known for appearing in the title sequence for Goldfinger and for a string of appearances in TV shows in the 1960s and 70s, has died aged seventy six. Film-maker Edgar Wright, who directed Nolan in her final film role, in the forthcoming Last Night In Soho, reported the news on social media. Nolan, who was born in 1943 in Somerset, first appeared on film under the name Vicky Kennedy in 'glamour' (for which read 'softcore') shorts by the notorious George Harrison Marks, appearing in his naturist film It's a Bare, Bare World.

She soon graduated to more mainstream films, with a noticeable role in Dick Lester's A Hard Day's Night (as the girl accompanying Wilfrid Brambell in a casino) and Goldfinger, as the masseuse Dink.

Nolan also appeared in Robert Brownjohn's celebrated title sequence for the same movie, wearing a gold bikini and with images projected on her skin - though in the film itself it was Shirley Eaton who played Jill Masterson, the girl who gets smothered to death by gold paint.

Margaret Ann Nolan was born in Norton Radstock, Somerset in 1943. Her father was serving in the Army and her mother took her to neutral Ireland for the duration of the Second World War. She was training to be a teacher when she met her husband Tom Kempinski, who was an actor with The National Theatre. Nolan and her twin sister, Geraldine, had staged their own plays when they were children and Kempinski encouraged her to consider acting as a career. Nolan quickly outgrew her glamour-model beginnings and forged a reputation as a performer of great likability, with small roles in films as varied as Michael Reeves' Matthew Hopkins: Witchfinder General, The Great St Trinian's Train Robbery, the Marcel Carné drama Three Rooms In Manhattan and in a deleted scene in Hitchcock's Frenzy.

She also began a long association with the Carry On movie series, beginning in 1965 with a role as a secretary in Carry On Cowboy. She would go on to appear in five more, finishing in 1974 with Carry On Dick. At the same time, Nolan developed a prolific career in TV, with guest roles in a wide variety of programmes, including The Saint, Adam Adamant Lives!, Spike Milligan's The World Of Beachcomber and Q6, Budgie, Steptoe & Son, The Persuaders!, The Sweeney, Fox and Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads? After the mid-1970s Nolan stepped back from acting, but did appear as the dancehall girl Effie in the celebrated TV adaptation of Brideshead Revisited in 1981.

Nolan went on to develop an interest in visual arts and her piece My Divided Self - a cut-up collage of her own publicity stills - was included in the feminist exhibition Equals in 2013 in Manchester's Blankspace gallery. In an interview in 2007, Nolan described her artworks as 'the idea that I was there as this passive woman, being looked at, but behind it all, behind my eyes, of course I knew what was going on.' Nolan also became involved in politically-inflected theatre in the early 1970s, influenced, she said, by Kempinski's experience of the 1968 évènements in Paris. She and Kempinski divorced in 1972. He later enjoyed success as the writer of the play Duet For One. Margaret is survived by her two sons, Oscar and Luke.

And finally, dear blog reader, yer actual Keith Telly Topping went into a pub one lunchtime and asked them if he could get toad-in-the-hole. He did. And he really didn't deserve that.