Arfur’s gorn? Leave it aht, son!

"You WHAT?"

Yesterday saw the funeral take place of the wonderful George Cole.

A talented actor, he will probably be most fondly remembered for his portrayal of Arthur Daley.

A long time ago, I occasionally had the surreal experience of walking home from school and passing a very familiar character, sat in his car.

George Cole’s daughter was in my younger brother’s year, and he used to pick her up just like any other dad – except he was in a Jag, and as far as every kid at school was concerned, he was Arthur Daley, the ‘dodgy geezer’ who would do anything to make a spot of dosh, even if it wasn’t entirely legal or scrupulous, on hit ITV show ‘Minder’.

Running from 1979 to 1994, the show initially focused on Arthur’s ‘Minder’, Terry, played by Dennis Waterman (fresh from his success in ‘The Sweeney’), but it soon became clear the interplay between the two, and Cole’s comedic genius as the double-dealing, cowardly, cigar-smoking Arthur (complete with trademark Trilby and camel coat), was what viewers were tuning in for.

Always on the lookout for a ‘nice little earner’, Arthur’s attempts at social-climbing were invariably dashed by his inability to use the right words, working class accent, and a mangled understanding of what being classy actually entailed, brought to life so skilfully by George it was impossible not to bask in the warm glow of another shady deal gone wrong or fabulous faux-pas.

Nothing seemed cooler to a teenage me than Terry in his Ford Capri, chasing the ‘birds’, having a pint, getting into a scrap, and forever being dragged into another disastrous scheme by Arthur, the loveable rogue permanently trying to avoid the attentions of DS Chisholm, his nemesis in the police, whilst keeping the forever-unseen ‘Er Indoors’ happy and unaware of his hapless schemes.

George brought his character to life so effectively that, even 20 years after the last new episode, referring to someone as a bit of an Arthur Daley type is enough to tag them as dodgy.

Waterman was close to tears as he spoke fondly of his friend and acting partner and their time together on and off screen, following the actor’s death last week at the age of 90. Warm tributes came also from the great and good of small screen and large, who remembered the great actor and, as Sir Roger Moore put it, “a gentleman”.

Cole could never understand why people had a soft spot for Daley – he always viewed his creation as distinctly unlikeable. As the Top 20 hit by The Firm in 1982 so eloquently put it: “Arthur Daley, E’s alright!” There was, perhaps, more of George in Arthur than he realised.

I’d like to think that Arthur’s still propping up the bar at the Winchester Club, and now seems like a suitable time to raise a glass to the man who brought him so wonderfully to life.

V.A.T. for George, please, Dave. On the slate, obviously.

This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column, in the North West Evening Mail, on the 14th of August 2015. It hasn't appeared on the paper's website yet, but if you fancy keeping an eye out for it, head here

Blow me dahn wiv a fever, Terence! They actually used my title, which is a right turn up fer the books, ain't it? Gawd bless 'em. RIP, George.

You'll be delighted to know that my suspicions about the type of comments you get on newspaper columns was confirmed last week - when it finally appeared, the solitary comment on my insightful, elegantly written and witty column about Vitamin D focused not on the subject matter, but the fact that I'd jokingly said that it was an early 80s Ultravox song.

J TO, from Furness, kindly explained:

"Not Kraftwerk but Can. Not early 80s but 1972. Not Vitamin D but Vitamin C. Wrong on all counts then!"

Thanks dude. Good to know you're watching my back and correcting me on the important stuff.

Apologies for the lateness of posting this - our broadband connection has been playing up for the last few weeks, and went into a restarting frenzy last night, leaving the home hub with nervous exhaustion and us with bugger all internet connection. I was forced to walk 2 miles and drink cappuccino in a café just to get a phone signal so I could reassure myself that the world hadn't ended, and Twitter was actually still working.

You ARE still there, right..?

(CD A-Z: Yo yo YO! Getting all cool and... er... keepin' in real, man, with a spot of Apollo Four Forty and their '99 album "Gettin' High On Your Own Supply". I'd forgotten it contains "Blackbeat", which ITV used as the theme for their Formula 1 coverage...)

The Schaf Shuffle

The weather – source of endless fascination, conversation, irritation and (just recently) excess irrigation. And a fidgety weather presenter on the BBC... I’m endlessly fascinated with the weather, and will confess to making sure I catch the BBC’s updates whenever possible. Not the local ones, where half the presenters look like they got dressed in the dark, or ITV, where they seem to know very little about actual weather, but the national forecasts. Delivered by actual Met Office personnel, their job entails a tricky mix of waving your hands about a bit, explaining about warm fronts without smirking, and trying not to look too pleased whilst mentioning gales force winds and torrential rain. Or stand in front of Cornwall. Each has their own presenting style, but there is one who intrigues me above all the others. Step forward, Tomasz Schafernaker, the 37 year old man from the Met who breezed onto our screens in 2001, as the youngest male ever to point out that it was going to r...

Making an exhibition of yourself

Now and again, it’s good to reaffirm that you’re a (relatively) normal human being. One excellent way of doing this is to go to a business exhibition. Despite what you might have surmised from reading my previous columns, I am employable, and even capable of acting like a regular person most of the time, even joining in the Monday morning conversation about the weather over the weekend, and why (insert name of footyballs manager here) should be fired immediately. The mug! True, there are times, often involving a caffeine deficiency, where it is like having the distilled essence of ten moody teenagers in the room, but I try and get that out of the way when people I genuinely like aren’t around to see it. As part of my ongoing experiment with what others call ‘working’, my ‘job’ involves me occasionally needing to go and see what some of my colleagues get up to outside the office, and what our competitors do to try and make sure that they do whatever my colleagues do better than ...

RIP Jenwis Hamilbutton

We are gathered here in this... (looks round a bit) um... blog, to mourn the passing of Jenwis Hamilbutton. His life may have been short and largely irrelevant, but he touched the lives of so many people that... sorry? Oh. Apparently that was someone else... Jenwis Hamilbutton rose briefly to fame on twitter during 2010, when he was retweeted by BBC F1 presenter Jake Humphrey, having criticised his shirt. A similarly unspectacular claim to fame occurred when a tweet he crafted at 1am on a windy night appeared in F1 Racing magazine. An amalgam of bits of Formula 1 drivers Lewis Hamilton and Jenson Button (mostly the hopeless bits), he came into existence via 3 pints of cider, a Creme Egg and the Electric Light Orchestra’s mournful 1986 farewell album “Balance Of Power”, played loudly over headphones. In his short existence, he was followed on twitter by Paul Hardcastle of “19” fame, and a bunch of slightly odd but jolly nice people, whom he was never entirely sure actually exist...

grumpyf1

Search This Blog