How I almost appeared on British TV…
I’ve mentioned before how I occasionally get really strange mails in relation to my blogging. Mails that seem so ill-researched that sometimes I have to wonder how on earth I came up in their results.
At the end of January I got such a mail. I can only imagine Agnes, the researcher at Princess Productions in London, had googled “dad” and randomly picked me from the results. In any case, she was looking for people to participate in 3-minute spots on a programme called “Sunday Brunch” on Channel 4. That is Channel 4 as in a UK television channel, and the filming was to happen in London.
Initially I thought this was way off mark, but with a bit of prodding from WDG I replied back that this sounded like fun and could I have more details. And details were provided:
“So, we’re making 5 x 3 minute advertorials with Simon to be shown on Channel 4 (in the ad breaks for Sunday Brunch).
For each one we are looking for a different kind of person who enjoys cooking, but for whatever reason doesn’t feel confident with curries, or doesn’t have a lot of time to cook from scratch.
For instance; firefighters on call, someone cooking for a new partner, students who don’t want to spend hours cooking, and of course, busy parents!
If you’ve ever seen Sunday Brunch, the vibe will be a bit like that – Simon will get the participants involved in helping to make the dish – talk through the ingredients, alternative ways you could do it etc. – whilst also chatting to you about your life as a dad, what inspires you clothes-wise, and so forth.”
Still sounds like a bit of fun, so I keep following up. At this point though, given that I have no idea what “Sunday Brunch” is all about, other than a sneaking suspicion that I’d probably not be watching it even if I could watch it in Norway, I asked my pal Scratch for his opinion.
“Sunday Brunch. Yes, I do know this programme. Basically it is a sort of blokey Sunday magazine programme presented by a chef called Simon Rimmer and a fucking twat of almost godlike proportions called Tim Lovejoy.
Rimmer looks a bit weird but certainly can cook. Lovejoy is a blatantly talentless egotist whose face I could not tire of punching. They basically have fatuous chats with various folk (the depth is so superficial it couldn’t really be called an interview) , talk about football a huge amount in a faux laddish bantering fashion, there’s a deeply untalented semi attractive chick (she is so rubbish on screen I strongly suspect that she must be the producers daughter or something like that) who presents a “gadget slot” and they then cook a couple of bits and bobs. You’re probably gathering I’m not a fan really.
Please don’t tell me you’re appearing on it Nick. Please. Not that. Unless you get in punching range of that tosser LoveJoy.”
Tim Lovejoy, ready to be twatted.
Reading between the lines, I don’t think Scratch considers Sunday Brunch to be essential or stimulating viewing, yet I decided to proceed with the process of perhaps making an appearance on said televisual delight.
It does strike me that whoever did the casting for Sunday Brunch must have been giggling insanely at the chance of casting two guys named Rimmer and Lovejoy as the main characters.
Anyhow, Agnes considers me to be an interesting prospect and escalates me up to Marcin, associate producer at Princess Productions. He wants to talk to me on the phone, so I call him up and the conversation, as such, goes something like this:
“Hi, this is Nick, you asked me to call?”
“Fantastic! This is Marcin. Can you cook?”
“Simple things, yes, or when given instructions.”
“Marvellous! Do you like curries?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“Fantastic! Are you a dad?”
“Marvellous! And could you be here on the 12th?”
“Given a few days lead, yes”
And so it went on for a bit, with Marcin gushing his fantastics and marvellouses with such energy I found it difficult to remain serious. He truly is a marvellous lad that radiates positivity with a fantastic amount of vigour. I never did quite get the sense that he was listening to what I said though, no doubt due to maximum effort going into charging for his next “Fantastic!“.
In the end, nothing came of it. Possibly due to me asking if they’d cover 100 pounds travel expenses. Or maybe Marcin didn’t feel I was enthusiastic enough. Still, I almost got 3 minutes of advertorial facetime on prime Sunday morning tv, right?
In time I have learnt to deal with the colossal disappointment of not having the opportunity to learn to make a 3-minute curry, though I will always wonder if any of the other curry creating dads got to deck Mr Lovejoy.