Tag Archives: Susan Boyle

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Pudsey has a girlfriend! I’m shocked. But she looked sweet, so might be good for our charitable bear. Terry Wogan seemed to have two. Lady presenters. Maybe they weren’t up to the seven hour slog? Neither was I, but that’s beside the point. Tess Daly’s outfit for the Strictly Come Dancing thing looked a little too much like a Sainsbury’s carrier bag for my liking.

But what do I know? I gathered that the woman who had hair which matched her dress was the famous Cheryl Cole. And I reckon that if I had ever watched the soaps properly I’d have enjoyed – not to mention understood – East Street so much more. It was reasonably fun even while not quite getting the hang of who was out of place and where. The boasting about whose husband was the most murderous was amusing enough.

The clothes were among the more fun points for Children In Need. Alexandra Burke – who’s totally new to me – sang well, but had come out in her underwear. The ever sweet Wogan claimed his underwear was on fire, but it might not have been such pretty underwear. Daughter gasped when she saw airborne-knicker-recipient Tom Jones’s hair. Has she never seen a grey-haired sex bomb before?

I am so tempted to describe John Barrowman’s spotty suit in Swedish, but I daren’t in case Daughter disowns me totally. It’s for sale, apparently, and one hopes it’s unwashed. Well, not me personally, but you know. She, Daughter, used the Take That song for a comfort break. It was the one thing on the programme she felt she could do without. I can’t help but feel that Take That could do without that ‘new’ singer of theirs.

Listening to A Perfect Day as sung by Susan Boyle, however, I received a report of goosebumps, and I have to admit that it was pretty good, and those angelic choir boys were really very angelic. Bet that Susan didn’t foresee a few years ago that she’d be kissed by Wogan on live television.

Children in Need 2010 - Strictly Come Dancing

Our McFly fan, Miss Vet, is about to receive the McFly snippets from last night, as Daughter had the foresight to hit the record button at the right moment. She also didn’t have the foresight to ignore my suggestion she stop it, which was unfortunate. But most of the McFly shenanigans should be there. I can’t say I think much of their music, but the drummer who danced was rather nice looking. I’m assuming he drew the short straw. And I loved the grumpy judge.

The interval of CIN Mastermind was a masterstroke of genius. So was having three contestants who knew and cared about their specialist subjects as opposed to Tony Hawks who knows nothing about fridges other than how to cart one round Ireland. He must have thought, or been made to think, that it was not serious. Lovely to see John Humphrys has a sense of humour.

Children in Need - Doctor Who

Next time the clever-clogs at the BBC do tea for young children, in need or otherwise, they should offer Ribena. Not cloudy lemonade. It looked delicious, and that’s exactly what it shouldn’t do. The treat of tea with Amy and the Doctor left the poor brothers eating dry biscuits.

We (Daughter and I) already know that Matt Smith can’t catch a train and talk on his mobile, so no surprise that he doesn’t know the difference between a teapot and a kettle. Just remind me never to ask him to make tea for me. (On second thoughts, I’ll have the cloudy lemonade.) But it’s his ineptness that we love.

Speaking of kettles, we refuelled mid-show with some Kettle crisps. Ridged spicy chilli. Very nice.

I can’t be the only one not watching that?

Being a CultureWitch doesn’t mean I watch everything on television. Most people seem to find time for rather a lot of it. I neither have the time, nor the inclination. There are programmes I wish I could fit in, but the X Factor isn’t one of them. I have to admit I don’t fully know what they do on that programme. It’s some sort of talent competition. With Simon Cowell, I think.

As I said earlier, I have great difficulty telling him apart from Simon Callow. It’s a name thing. Watching them in something might make a difference. But it’s not tempting.

The lovely Candy Gourlay – who is a marvellous children’s book author – thought I was not being serious when I pointed out I know nothing about the X Factor. I know very slightly more about Strictly Come Dancing, although I never watch it.

I suspect the X Factor is a different programme from the one Susan Boyle was discovered on. Am I right? And as for all these Big Brother and Celebrity Whatsits, I can’t keep up.

While having lunch out with the Esperanto Student earlier this year, she kept referring to Nancy, and after a while I simply had to bite the bullet and ask who Nancy was. Another blooming talent competition. And the ES was shocked I didn’t know.

CultureWitch the blog was not started up to write about these things. It was born so I can nerd at great length about my few big passions, and a bit less on my medium interests, filling in with bits and pieces of anything else that just happens to come my way.

So here’s to more NCIS and more Roger Whittaker, with a dash of Doctor Who, Fascinating Aïda, films, music, art, food. But no X Factor.

The singers we deserve

I read on another blog this week about how you need to go around half naked if you’re beautiful. And it goes without saying that ugly people can’t sing. Or so it seems.

Me, I get tired of seeing yet another look-alike with bare midriff singing on television. I like my singers to be good singers. But it must be the bare midriff syndrome that makes people pity me for liking Roger Whittaker, and he’s not ugly or fat. Just not twenty any longer, and he performs fully dressed.

To jump on the Susan Boyle and Paul Potts bandwagon this week seems a little opportune, but it has to be done. I read about Susan in the paper the other day, but never got round to investigating her on YouTube (because I don’t watch these ‘I want to be famous’ programmes). Then the Guardian did a double spread on the phenomenon of singing on television despite being neither young nor beautiful, and I joined the millions of people who had already heard Susan sing.

Lovely. I particularly liked the fact that she talked and moved as she wanted. She was herself. Then I showed Daughter the Paul Potts video, which only brought home that those three ‘judges’ sit there saying the same thing every time. And they are smug. I gather the job is well paid, so it’s something I wouldn’t mind doing in their place. I could do my bit to stop the midriffs. (I notice the judges have their names displayed in big letters above the stage, which is handy in case they forget.)

Daughter will dispute this, but I firmly believe Susan wasn’t a complete surprise on the show, which makes any mock surprise reactions even worse. Still doesn’t mean that her looks and background, genuine or not, should have much to do with whether she makes it as a singer.

I remember the Eurovision song contest, years ago, where even the lovely Terry Wogan made a comment along the lines of ‘she’s fat, but she can sing’. This was about the Maltese singer, and yes, she really could sing. Didn’t win, of course.

It must surely be a bonus if a singer looks good, not a necessity. How many wonderful voices are we missing because of this obsession with bare midriffs?

I hope Susan does well, hopefully without being ruined by well meaning idiots in show business. And I know the Guardian wanted to come across as better than the rest, but I think they were just as aghast, really. It’s the same in the book business. Authors, who you don’t even see as you read their words, need to look good. Never mind publishing the best book.