So, a few mornings later, I was awoken ridiculously early by my father. "Come on son, up you get!" came the suspiciously chirpy command. I'm nearly 13, I thought. It's very strange that my dad's come to get me out of bed! Then I looked up, and there was Fred, along with his sound man Andy, wide-angledly capturing these precious moments of askew hair and panda eyes in this wholly-realistic, very artisic... documentary...
And thus the art commenced: eating baked beans with my step sister, (artisically), going up onto the Chevin and looking down on Otley, artistically... and some lucious panning shots of me jogging round Garnett's Field, ridiculously, as I was terribly unfit.
Then there came the REALLY big one: the interview! Which they did twice, because "there was a technical fault with the first one." Yes! Read as: "you didn't say anything nearly meaty or discriminating enough for us to broadcast the first time round." Or perhaps it wasn't artisic enough. Who knows. But - it didn't matter. I was going to be on telly. This was terribly exciting, especially for a bashful, naive 13 year-old.
And then it happened. Or rather, it didn't. Gone. GONE! I was edited out. 'Why Men Leave' became 'Why Men are Cheating Layabouts Who Leave Their Poor Wives For a Bit on the Side' (not the official title.) Shots of my dad were regraded to make it look like he was sitting in a dungeon, and my stepmum was dressed as a prostitute in a bright red top with a fag, (guess the gender of the director!!) No wonder they cut me out. Being neither a prison warden or a hooker, Fred's art must have been somwehat lacking when I told the interviewer what great people my parents were.
But I shall not be bitter and twisted! (Haha much, I hear you cry! :P) Because on Thursday, 3rd November 2011, Richard Cadell got one up on 'Why Men Leave' by artisically inserting me into an episode of 'Sooty.' And here it is: the first ever picture of me broadcast on live TV...
Don't pinch yourselves. This is real. Those are indeed my legs! And what an artistic golf swing I've got going on. Thankyou Mr C, I really owe you one :) And if you ever want a documentary making about yourself, your parents, or anything else, then I know precisely the TV company that won't feature you...! (Grrrrrr!)
And okay, here's a slightly nicer picture of me and my chum Wink T:
