An Apple A Day...

My good lady wife bought me an ipod for my birthday in April. I had previously resisted the lure of these little fellas because I feared I would be drawn into the whole Apple-marketed lifestyle fantasy world where all your friends look like celebrities from a Gap advert or a Jamie Oliver dinner party and you dream of having exotic relatives called Fabio or Angelique.

Now I actually own one, however, I appreciate the fact that they are rather good gadgets enabling me to download and carry a glut of albums from my CD collection. For the uninitiated my CD collection can best be described as a strange land where Neil Sedaka and Hank Williams sit comfortably alongside Miss Dynamite and the Sisters of Mercy, while Ani Difranco shares a podium with Richard Thompson and Gene Pitney.

My wife (a Clash, punk and guitar band type of girl) is often agog at some of my musical likes and usually asks ‘How did we ever end up together?’ when I play the same Leonard Cohen song for the 19th time. My stepson usually just sneers and leaves the room when I take command of the CD player (although I note my Gorillaz album has made its way up to his bedroom of late). The various artists in my music collection, however, have yet to complain about their ipod bedfellows so I assume they approve – although the introduction of Marilyn Manson may force some of the older residents out very shortly.

My taste in music aside, though, the other thing that often leaves friends agog is my sense of humour. I, of course, am convinced that I am a latter-day Oscar Wilde with a bit of Benny Hill thrown in for good measure. What many of my friends think, however, has yet to be recorded but the stunned silences that sometimes greet some of my more arcane or lewd utterings is probably not a good thing.

But this is a situation I intend to rectify very shortly by proving to everyone that I am funnier than a field full of crucified Daily Mail readers by entering the Channel 4 Comedy Competition. For this I have to write three sketches and a bit of a monologue and then send them in to Channel 4 where I’ll be judged alongside the many thousands of other entrants.

But today I realised that I haven’t written a comedy sketch of any description since I was about 17. Fortunately I have five weeks to think of something funny – and then learn how to fit it into a very small space. Bugger...