Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

I was watching True Blood, a TV series about vampires, this week when one of the characters in this drama set in an oppressively hot Southern state said “I’ve never seen snow”. Leaving aside that he, and most of the other characters in this sexy series, have never seen clothes either I found it hard to think that some people really have never seen snow and ice. They should move to London.

This week’s weather seemed dictated by Dean Martin’s “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow”. Slipping and sliding all over our driveway on my way to the car I could imagine Dean curled up on the big rug in the sky with a glass in one hand and, well, another glass in the other thinking “Well, the weather outside is frightful, But this wine is so delightful, Long as you love me so, I think I’ll just stay here and have another”.

Global warming is not an issue in our neighbourhood yet. Our kids only want to save a polar bear so he can come live in our Wendy House. Mind you, though they may have had a great time building snowmen and throwing snowballs, I had an even better one staying warm indoors and taking pictures.

But I’m told by my kids that this shows I’m getting old.

Indeed they’re right. I used to love the white stuff, and time was when happiness for me was a bit of snow and my sledge. All too soon, my childhood mittens gave way to driving gloves, my duffel coat to a leather jacket, and soon my fashion look will be a Slanket and slippers and a good sleep will simply involve the armchair. I guess that what used to be me drooling over attractive women will be replaced by, well, just drooling. Childhood means never being far from affection but middle age means never being too far from the loo.

Yet I interviewed Rosemary Conley this week who put me to shame. This energetic lady is in her Sixties, is a size eight and does aerobics every day of her life. She’s also about to release a DVD, a book, and will start up her own internet TV station in January. I wouldn’t be surprised if this dynamic lady was out on her sledge this week. Incidentally, if you want a bit of gossip, the Queen of diets and exercise, who has become a multi millionaire out of giving dietary advice, takes two sugars in her tea. She also can’t eat in restaurants without waiters or diners phoning the papers to say what she ate so pudding are a no no.

I also spoke to Ruthie Henshall, the west end musical star, who is going back in to Chicago after a few years away. She also has down sides to her life and became a bit emotional during our interview – I’m not going to divulge why – but she also has the dynamism and energy of a teenager. Following two months in London she’ll be off to play the part on Broadway but Ruthie confessed she’d love to do a movie.

My final guest of the week was Les McKeown who was once the most famous singer in the world as leader of The Bay City Rollers. Les has just come through Rehab and is gearing up to try and win back millions of pound in lost royalties from his record company. He told me he fought against being remembered as a former Bay City Roller but has had to come to accept that’s what he is and it’s what people want him to be. As he says “I’m their own Doctor Who, taking them back in time.”

So, as even the stars have the problems, issues or challenges that we normal people have, yet they still just get their head down and batter on, I’m going to rediscover the hidden kid in me. I’m going to build a sledge, buy some mittens, and knock on my neighbour’s door asking him to come out and play in the snow.

Dean’s right. Let it snow! And from me I wish you a very Happy White Christmas.