Supermarket Wind Swept !

Hi,
   In my 43 years on this beautiful planet, I have only had the pleasure of being asked for my autograph on one occasion. I was in Bulgaria with my dear wife, and I was waxing lyrical to a Scandinavian women about my budding refereeing career. In broken English she misinterpreted what I was saying and duly asked for my signature on a napkin, so in some respects I had tasted celebrity status before and I obliged so I knew what lied ahead.

                                                               
                                                                      Bulgaria


I have have appeared on television three times, well four if you include Football league Highlights from 1986 I spotted my Parker jacket behind the goal against Port Vale in the days when Burnley were in the lower echelons of English Football. Anyway My first 'major' TV appearance was in the Question Time audience when it visited Burnley some years ago, I don't remember much except putting my arm up a lot trying to get David Dimblebys' attention. When it was my turn I burbled some nonsense about 'keeping the pound' (see my earlier blog about my political career) and took some satisfaction that my comment raised a ripple of applause from the people of Burnley.

My next time for the telly would be with my old work mate and fellow Christian, Janine as we headed for auditions at Granada studios to apply for the high brow television show Supermarket Sweep !

Janine Bradley

So off we went and were welcomed into a Hotel foyer with a large group of high intellectuals like ourselves to be road tested for this cutting edge piece of television. I had no idea what Supermarket Sweep was and Janine's brief description left me little the wiser. Well off we went and I vaguely remember sitting at the back as a number of television people asked us to do silly things and generally be a bit stupid. Surprisingly Janine and myself found this quite easy and acted like two misbehaving teenagers, being daft and taking nothing too seriously.

A few weeks later the call came through at work that me and Janine had been selected to star on the apparently legendary TV show Supermarket Sweep! Janine bounced up and down and I, well bounced up and down with her. We were only going on the telly!

A Television

Being 'hired' for television was not without the trimmings of luxury and we were allowed to drive the 250 miles the night before recording and we were treated to 2 single rooms in a upmarket hotel emporium known as Premier Inn. We left  for Kent at around mid day and I recall it being the trickiest journey of my entire life, Janine didn't shut up once! No seriously it was awful, the worse wind conditions had hit the UK and the M6 in the North West was shut as  was the M1, so we constantly had to find an alternative route!  On our way we passed a famous fast food establishment where the M had been blown off one of its hinges turned upside down and had humorously turned in Wcdonolds! After much singing and laughing to get through the trip, we arrived at Premier Inn, Maidstone, sometime after midnight a mere 12 hours after leaving Lancashire.

 

Premier Inn Maidstone

In the morning we pushed the celebrity lifestyle to the max and had a Little Chef Olympic breakfast. We had two or three hours to kill so we walked around a garden center, and had beverage from a vending machine!

 

  

                              Little Chef                                                   Olympic Breakfast

 Eventually it was time to go and make television. We were so excited, and were taken through to the Green room where we met other contestants, ate curled up sandwiches and watched re runs of previous Shows. As dull as it sounds me and Janine were loving every minute of it.
Next up was a visit  to the set, and excitingly enroute we passed the sets of Art Attack and Trisha, the girl who sold her soul to channel 5 and was never to be seen again!

                                                                      Art Attack            


 So there we were me and Janine, stood in a TV Studio that had been converted into a Supermarket. It was very, very surreal. Then all of a sudden the star of the show Dale Winton appeared. We were kept at a secure distance, whilst he dribbled some nonsense about having fun and being camp as possible.

Dale Winton

Back to The Green Room and it was time for makeup, That was nice I'd never had a professional put lady products on my face before, and to be honest there is not a lot you can do with a face that looks this good.
So it was time to record, and boy did me and Janine camp it up, we skipped around the set, giggled in all the right places and generally got into the spirit of being quiz show contestants.
We didn't win I  smashed a jar of pickles and didn't find the bonus banana or whatever it was I was supposed to be doing! We were sent on our way with a souvenir Supermarket sweep sweatshirt, and got in the car to enjoy the rush hour traffic and the long trip back to Lancashire! Janine and myself had the time of our lives and I know it holds happy memories for both us.

My final appearance to date, (Songs of Praise haven't approached me. Yet !) was on the BBC, this time is was with the Queen of the Battle axes, Anne Robinson on the legendary, The Weakest Link. Not wanting to delay those of you reading this blog, I shall try and cut the tale short. So I did all the make up, and Green Room stuff, never met Anne beforehand, and was basically taken to the set, had a quick rehearsal and then Ms Robinson appeared, She was rude, and didn't make light conversation! So we were off, and slowly but surely I was making it through each round and I was not to be defeated until the final and took great pride that is was only a post graduate from Cambridge University that would take the winners cheque away from my grasp.

The Host of Watchdog

As the weeks went by after recording TWL people started recognizing me at work, "Your that chap off the Weakest Link" was the most common phrase, but it was only a few months later, when I was frequently being seen on Outake TV for pretty much humiliating a lady who was rather large. I can't remember the exact words I used but as someone who was in the Comedy game I didn't need much encouragement from Anne Robinson, to take the bait, and add some Frost humor to proceedings. Anne asked me if I thought a fellow contestant was overweight and my response was along the lines of 'Well I'm not saying she's a bloater, but should could probably do with losing a few pounds'. Much laughter and banter followed and at the end Anne gave me a kiss and whispered in my ear, "Your a funny man". This episode resulted in the scene taking it's place in subsequent outtake shows, which left me feeling rather uncomfortable.

For a considerable time, months and months to be precise, I was frequently recognized at work as the Out takes hit Challenge TV and other Freeview channels.  You see I never got a chance to see the lady after the recording, she left whilst I was still filming. I wanted to say sorry, I didn't mean to be so personal.
I have always had a bit of 'showbiz' in my personality, and I can't lie the recognition was flattering, but as I reflect now the taste is bittersweet.
To end this blog I just want to say a few words about words. Words can do so much good but yet can do so much harm, If the lady in question enjoyed the recognition as well then I feel slightly better. If she was offended I deeply regret it, I suppose I will never know, but now as a Christian I choose my words much more carefully and try to be considerate in how I express them. I have not become righteous or boring (I have always been boring) but what you say is easily forgotten once the words have come from your mouth, but what is heard can last forever. When I was 15 years old I was told I was too stupid to take a maths exam, and sent to draw pictures with the year sevens. Funny now ? but never forgotten!

Just saying.

Peace be with you all
Alextheanglican.

SIMON

Hello once  more,
                                     Music  was my first love and it shall be my last, so the song goes, but in my case Simon was my first love, Music would come much later. Simon died when he was 24 years old, he had no teeth and couldn't walk in a straight line, I used to call him down from the neighbors patio which was a bit pointless because he was deaf as well, but although rather infirm, fortunately in his latter years he did have sight in one of his two eyes but I,m not sure which one! And as he hobbled down Marjory's garden he would let out the most awful meow to let me know he was on his way. After much waiting around he arrived and I had to haul him over the fence because the fifteen yard hike had left him utterly exhausted. I remember Simon had the most awful crusty fur on his rear where he had basically dried up to excessive sleeping  by the hot radiator. In truthfulness maybe we should have helped Simon on his way to heaven, he was not in good shape but we all really loved him, but eventually the time came for Simon to depart this world and it was one cold and frosty morning that I found Simon, deceased and very stiff under our patio park bench. I was very very upset, Simon was gone and funeral arrangements needed to be made!

My mother was in hospital at the time with 'lady problems' and someone had to break the news about Simon's death. She too was upset and as a family we arranged to bury him in the garden next to the Greenhouse. My Dad went off to run his Piano shop and gave us instructions to dig a big hole that would accommodate Simon comfortably. So my brother and myself took to the task but as young boys do we got tired and bored very quickly. So in truth the hole wasn't very deep at all but would just about do.

For the purpose of anonimity this person shall be known as Brenda, her real name is Brenda. Brenda was a feisty old lady who frequently fell out with my feisty old Mother, usually about the over hanging trees and out of control bushes, At the best of times, relations were rather 'Frosty' to say the least. Well not long after Simons grave had been prepared, 'Big Brenda' as we affectionately called her, came  bounding down the garden to investigate what the brothers Frost were up. 'What are you doing'? she asked. 'Were burying Simon' I responded. I don't recall exactly what she said but it went along the lines of 'you can't', vermin, vermin, vermin, rats, vermin, rats vermin, vermin, etc, I think she was slightly concerned that Simon would attract vermin! She insisted the grave was at least 4 foot deep, To cut a long story short I was still grieving and as a confident child, I politely told her that wouldn't be possible which didn't go down to well with Brenda and resulted in threats counter threats and involvement by the police and environmental health department if the hole wasn't made considerably bigger.
I rang my Father at his Piano shop and told me to go ahead and bury Simon and he would call on his way home to defuse the tension and find an acceptable solution.

To this day I have no idea what my Father said to Brenda, but the following morning I awoke, looked out of my bedroom window to find and 7 foot crucifix at the foot of Simon's grave. He insisted it remained in place for  some time and forbid us from venturing to Simon's resting place as he didn't want to light the torch paper.

A short while later the cross had been removed and although I don't know, I suspect Simon went as well, but I really can't be sure, but as an animal lover it makes one consider if our pets go to heaven.
As we have lived at our present residence for some time I rather feel I have lost count of the number of animals that have been laid to rest in my tiny back garden, in fact it's a bit of a dilemma when it come to planting bulbs in case we disturb the resting place of one of our many deceased cats, fish, gerbils, rabbits, etc etc.
The last of our cats to die was a dreadful little moggy called Sparky, we got her from a cat sanctuary, she had the softest feet, because she had been harmed and stood in acid She didn't wash and she was very unsociable and scruffy, she was the feline equivalent to Waynetta Slob. In her latter years, she was incontinent and rather unpleasant, I felt little affinity to this fleabag, and when the time came to have her put to sleep, I took her because, I pretended not to care, and thought I would be masculine and handle it like a 'proper man' should.

In the Vets, I placed her on the table and the expert did what was required. I cried whilst Sparky just went to sleep, she was wrapped in a Blanket and passed to me, she was lovely and warm and I put her in her pet box, took her home and buried her in the Garden.

A family favorite in the Frost household is Rolf Harris and his budget busting series, Animal Hospital. How we loved to weep along as Rolf choked back the tears as a dearly love guinea pig was put to sleep as' there was nothing else that could be done' for the little blighter, and oh how we smiled when a recovered hedgehog had been released back to the wild after a near miss with a tractor.

So do animals go to heaven? I think they do, but others may disagree. We can leave that for another time, but don't be surprised to be reading yet another blog about Love. Simon, which incidentally I do know is a silly name for a cat, was absolutely my best friend, I loved him with all my heart, Sparky was not but maybe the show of emotion at her death was because we gave her a good loving life, she was cared for, well fed, and could roam at her leisure, we did right by her.

And now Fletcher my current Dog, I,m sure he loves me as much as I love him, he follows me everywhere, he shows far much more pleasure to see me return home than my dear wife does, he is my companion, he is a good dog and I think when he pops off it is a nice to think he might be in heaven alongside, Simon, Sparky, and my long distinguished list of pets that have fertilized my garden over many many years..

For now, let love be your guide and let Jesus be your inspiration.
till next time
love and peace
Alextheanglican.

alextheanglican: My thoughts and I

alextheanglican: My thoughts and I: Hello,        I often think I think too much. Take today for instance, it's been one of those longer than ordinary days, It started about s...

My thoughts and I

Hello,
       I often think I think too much. Take today for instance, it's been one of those longer than ordinary days, It started about six thirty this morning and after putting on Daybreak I had my first serious thoughts of the day. I posed myself two questions, Does Ranvir Singh earn significantly more money presenting  on National Morning TV than she did working alongside Gordon Burns on regional BBC North West tonight? and secondly does John Stapleton wear a wig?

I often find myself thinking really silly things. This afternoon I took my dog Fletcher, on a walk 'up' to Townley, one of Burnleys' prettier locations. And I did spend an awful lot of time pondering if my car would be okay where I had parked it. The trouble was I was parked near a dropped curve and a few weeks ago I got stung by the parking police because I had indeed parked on a dropped curve.So I got out of the car, got Fletcher out of the boot, looked at my bonnet and summarized there was a possible 'grey area' if the friendly car park attendant walked by and recognized my car as a repeat offender. So I put Fletcher back in the car and reversed a good two to three inches. I got out of my car and once again got Fletcher out in readiness for our walk 'up' Townley, only to face another point of issue.  I was now faced with another dilemma. Had I left enough space fore the car behind me in case he wanted to vacate his parking space? I summarized, Probably not.  And so we jumped back in the car with the dog, at which point Fletcher was completely bewildered what was going on and gave me a look of impatience! I then drove, the 6 to 7 feet forward where the was no dropped pavement, no car to my front and non to my rear. Why I didn't do that in the first place is completely beyond me!

So we set off, Within about thirty seconds of our walk commencing I realized I had left my Ipod in the car, as well as the dog lead, and so returned to the vehicle, whilst Fletcher did his business, which posed the next mental conumdrum. Should I pick up his poo and leave it in the car or should I carry it until the next red bin? I went for the latter and so finally we were on our way. It was damp and miserable but being a enthusiastic Christian I vowed to make conversation with anybody and everybody I might encounter on our walk 'up' Townley.  The first person I encountered was a Green keeper from the nearby golf club. I didn't need to 'break the ice' so to speak, As he drove up to me switched off his golf buggy to kindly inform me 'There is a bin for his shit, just up there.' I tried to respond with a hint of gratefulness, 'Right thanks' I replied and just kept on walking alone with Fletcher, My bag of dog poo and my thoughts.After disposing of my dog poo, in the bin 'just up there' I  encountered a man in a in a bright yellow coat blowing the Autumn leaves off the pavement and I was unsure if he would stop his hoovering to let me pass or should I consider crossing the road? He made the decision for me as he indeed switched off his turbo piece of machinery. How kind, I thought, I will make conversation with this kind Sir! 'That'll keep you going for a while' I said jollily. There was no reply, just a look of, 'get a move on man' Undeterred I went for another killer comedy line 'You can come and do my lounge if you like'. Nothing not a titter, It was only a moment later I considered it was probably the massive earphones his was wearing that prevented him from being highly amused at my park environment humor.

I passed a man trundling along in a mini digger, As much as I tried he totally refused eye contact, and he completely gave me and Fletcher the cold shoulder. I understood although Fletcher looked a little troubled!
I ventured up through the golf club for nostalgic purposes to find the hut that gave me the inspiration for my as yet 'unsigned' sitcom 'Tales From the Hut' many years ago. It was a mossy old pathway with a difficult terrain and had a rather troublesome moment where Fletcher was being followed by a dog, who's owner wanted to go in a totally different direction to the one we were travelling, but my motto is always 'keep walking' so by the time the owner finally caught up with us I got the feeling the only thing he wanted to discuss is why didn't I  bloody stand still.

I approached an elderly couple, so I removed my earphones and lifted my crucifix onto my outer garmentation in preparation for a friendly chat. at the crossover point, 'Hello' I said in my jolly Christian way. Nothing, not a bloomin dickie bird they just kept on walking! Please yourself I thought.
I then met a man with a dog, who had lost his dogs ball, He asked me to keep an eye out. I told him I would keep an eye out! I never saw his ball, but to be honest the Christian enthusiasm was now wearing thin. I certainly wouldn't have run up the great big hill I'd just descended if I had found it!

I walked round the back of the hall and down passed the cafe to begin the homeward journey back to my car. There was a thick stench of tarmac as the main road to the hall was being  resurfaced. Nobody spoke except for me shouting at Fletcher to hurry up.  As the months go by he seems to becoming less interested in anything  important I have to say to him. On my return I once again passed the man with his garden vac, who this time, didn't even bother reducing the revs! He just carried on and showed no concern  that myself and Fletcher had to walk in the road to avoid a confrontation.

Where's all this leading, well eventually it lead back to the Car, but it does make me think about isolation, I do enjoy my own company but sometimes I think, I need to stop thinking so much. So I can only imagine what it was like for Jesus to spend 40 days and 40 nights alone. I sometimes wonder if we spend too long  alone with our own thoughts, we are not allowing Jesus to enter our minds. So how do we eventually get to a place of tranquility and peacefulness. In my case I must say the nearest I get to that is in my time of prayer and reflection. There are three places I find this. Firstly in church, not always, but sometimes the whole tone is just perfect, when the sermon, goes perfectly well with the hymns, and the sermon and the hymns go perfectly well with the prayers, and the hymns and the sermons and the prayers just feel perfect alongside sharing communion with my fellow Christians.
Also at home, in my prayer/ toy/ gym/ book room, I can feel so close to God it is amazing, the room is not a holy place, it has Bart Simpson posters on the walls, hundreds of CDS, dolls, prams, all sorts of junk, but in the darkness and stillness of me a candle and prayers I can clear out my clutter and be at peace with the world and feel incredibly close to God.
The final place is out with Fletcher, I didn't feel it on my walk today, but sometimes, the nature around me is incredibly moving, I had a beautiful fly pass by a Heron the other day, it was just stunning, it was if he was performing just for me. Seeing deer, foxes, rare birds when you least expect it is just so lovely.
What's the message? Find space, use it well and be at peace with yourselves and others.
And may the love of God be with you always.
Until next, be happy!
Alextheanglican.