Comedian Phil Evans is from Ammanford. He is known as the man who puts the ‘cwtsh’ into comedy. Website – www.philevans.co.uk
And so we say “Farewell” to another year.
Or, if you’re a Welsh speaker . . . “Hwyl Fawr!”
If you’re a Russian sleeper spy who’s been living undercover in West Wales for decades disguised as a Welsh speaker, you might whisper “Doh-Svee-Dan-Ya” in a Ceredigion accent – not something you hear every day.
Except at chucking-out time at Lampeter’s so-called ‘Stamp Collectors Social Club’ which is actually a front for a cabal of Soviet spies – something the locals have known since they discovered that to become a member (A) you have to complete the application form in Russian and (B) membership is only open to people who’ve been awarded the Order Of Lenin.
Something Ihaveheard every day lately is, “I didn’t think much of the TV programmes over Christmas and New Year!”
It’s difficult for me to make a judgement, mainly because I sat down with my mammoth Christmas edition of the Radio Times and a pen on December 24th, ready to plan my viewing over the next week – and by the time I’d gone through its 292 pages (a small forest was sacrificed to make every copy) filled with thousands of TV and radio programmes and marked-off what I wanted to watch and listen to, it was New Year’s Eve.
I found the enormous line-up of old and new films, Christmas ‘specials’, game shows, sitcoms, comedy panel shows, children’s animations, music shows, ballets, documentaries etc completely overwhelming and absolute proof that it ispossible to have too much of a good thing.
I’ve wanted to de-clutter my busy life for some time, so made the first move on January 1st. Even though it contained details of programmes yet to be broadcast, I dropped the Christmas Radio Time into the re-cycling.
Yes it took courage . . . but I did it!
Why don’t you de-clutter your life in 2018?
At least until December when the Christmas Radio Times arrives . . .
Waitresses and waiters have a tough job.
Like me, they aim to give people an enjoyable experience.
However, when I finish my act, no one’s ever given me a tip . . . except oncein a club in Ruthin’s notorious downtown quarter when a bearded, six-foot seven audience member with cauliflower ears (wish I could remember her name) said “I’ve got a tip for you, Phil. Change . . . your . . . occupation!’
In cafes or restaurants my comedy radar’s always picking up the unintentionally amusing things people say, whether they’re fellow diners or waiting staff.
Recently I went out for a meal with three friends.
Our young waitress was pleasant and professional – but every time she brought a dish to our table, she’d say “Theeere you go!” in a high-pitched voice.
And as we all had three courses, that’s a lot of “Theeere you gos!”
By the time we got desserts I was biting my knuckles, because even when we’d asked for a clean fork or a spare napkin, when she brought it she’d squeak. “Theeere you go!”
After leaving a generous tip – because waiting at table is hard work and she was very attentive – we walked to the door and I turned to her, smiled and said . . .
“Heeere we go!”
You can follow Phil Evans on Twitter @philevanswales and www.philevans.co.uk