Game long gone

Game OnThere are TV programmes you can look back at realise how many stars it produced (the original Comic Strip on C4 is a good example).

Then there are the programmes in which some of the participants go on to greater things, while at least one of the ensemble gets cruelly forgotten.

I was reminded of this recently when I saw the new advert for SpecSavers which ‘stars’ an actor called Matthew Cottle.

His big TV break was appearing in the so-so BBC2 comedy Game On in the mid 90s, alongside none other than Ben Chaplin and Samantha Janus.

These two went onto bigger and better things (movies alongside Nicole Kidman/EastEnders), but poor old Matthew’s career nosedived and he hasn’t really appeared in anything for longer than one episode since. That’s gotta hurt.

It also put me in mind of the early-80s sketch show Three Of A Kind, which starred Lenny Henry, Tracey Ullman and David Copperfield – who?

Lenny Henry is, of course, now one of the UK’s best-loved comedians, while Tracey Ullman went on to have huge success in America and her show was the launch pad for a rather insignificant comedy called The Simpsons. Copperfield did pretty much nothing else and is now a mere Gagfax in the annals of TV history.

How many more nearly-rans are there out there?

* Image courtesy of Wikipedia

iPod rage

iPodMy intention today was to take up Cliff’s challenge and see if my iPod was in sync with my life.

Unfortunately, my iPod decided to wipe itself completely while connected to my work computer this afternoon.

And when I say wiped, I mean wiped. We’re talking not a sausage left on it. From Aaliyah to Zager and Evans, the whole lot has gone.

Obviously I’ve got them all backed up at home and as I sit here writing, my ‘restored to factory settings’ iPod is being synced up with my iTunes.

I suppose it just really bugged me, though, because it proves how easily a music collection can be erased.

And for all those people who reckon that downloads are the future, my experience is exactly why CDs (or another similar format) won’t go away just yet.

Because, if your iPod goes gaga and you lose your electronic music, you can still rip your CDs all over again.

Thank god!

Golliwog’s Cakewalk, eh?

Sometimes my iPod surprises me. I don’t mean that it suddenly tells me a joke, or puts on women’s clothes… mind you, wouldn’t that be a great development for Apple. Quick, where’s Steve Jobs’ email address?…

Anyway, what I really meant was that it throws you a curveball with what it plays. So I’d just listened to a nice Feist track, when a pleasant piano piece came wafting through my earphones.

Hmm, what’s that, I thought? I don’t recognise it.

I look down at the screen to discover it’s called Golliwog’s Cakewalk by Debussy.

It only seems like yesterday that the golliwog police clamped down on any representation in public life (although it was probably more like 20 years ago), forcing the likes of Robertsons to remove it from their labels.

And when I was a kid, golliwogs were a fact of life. In fact, I had one as a kid that sat on my bed, alongside Big Ted and Little Ted (imaginative, wasn’t I?)

Anyway, in case you’re interested to hear what Golliwog’s Cakewalk sounds like, here’s a recital.