An Evening with Johnners (2 page)

Brian used to say he was lucky, but you make your own luck. He loved life and he loved to make people laugh.
As you read his words in this book, I hope you can still hear his inimitable voice, chuckling at his own jokes, full of enthusiasm for life, family and friends – and of course, cricket.

Then you too will be able to experience the sheer fun and enjoyment of
An Evening with Johnners.

Barry Johnston
1996 

PART ONE

An Evening with
JOHNNERS

MUSIC:
Horseguards, Whitehall
played by the Sun Life Stanshawe Band.

The theatre audience hears the familiar sound of a brass band playing the theme tune from the Radio 4 programme
Down Your Way.
Brian walks on stage to loud applause and seats himself on a high wicker stool.
 

T
hank you very much.  

How nice to be in Canterbury. Although I have to admit, I had to stop myself just now from saying, ‘Hello Canterbury.’  

I have got into this terrible habit, wherever I am – it can be Bournemouth, Manchester, Birmingham – I say hello to the town and I’ve got be very careful, because next week I go across to the isle of Wight and I’m speaking to the Ladies’ Luncheon Club at Cowes!  

I
am a little bit diffident about speaking to you tonight, for a change, because last week I gave what I thought was the best after-dinner speech I had ever given, but when I had finished a rather drunk chap (at least I hope he was drunk) came up. He said, ‘That’s the most boring speech I have ever heard in my life.’

And this upset me a bit, but the chairman of the dinner, who hadn’t heard what he said, dragged him away and said to me, ‘Don’t pay any attention to him – he only repeats what everybody else is saying!’

I
t’s marvellous to see so many people. It must be a very bad night on the telly. You know, you can go and speak and there are very few people. A friend of mine the other day was paid a large fee to go to address what he hoped was a big audience in a town hall. He walked out on the stage and there was one chap sitting in the front row.

Well, he had been paid the fee so he gave the speech, about forty-five minutes, then turned to this chap and said, ‘Thank you very much, sir, now I am going.’

And this chap said, ‘Please don’t go. I’m the second speaker!’

F
rom what I can see of the audience, I am willing to bet that I am the oldest man in the theatre tonight and I am going to warn you about what’s going to happen when you get to my age. Three things happen.

First thing is you lose your memory …

I can’t remember what the other two things are!

But if the ladies will excuse me, I will just tell you what might happen to the men. This is a bit serious really! A friend of mine was celebrating his sixtieth wedding anniversary, his diamond wedding. He and his wife decided to have a second honeymoon – to go to the same town, same hotel, same bedroom, same bed.

They got into bed and the wife put her arms around his shoulders and said, ‘Darling, do you remember how romantic you were sixty years ago? You bit me in the neck, you bit me in the shoulder, you bit me in the breast,’ and he leapt out of bed and went to bathroom.

She said, ‘What are you doing?’ and he said, ‘Getting my teeth!’

I
have been around rather a long time and it’s interesting how sometimes one is recognised and sometimes one isn’t. About twenty years ago, coming back from Australia our aeroplane stopped at Bahrain and I walked up and down the transit lounge to get a bit of exercise. An Englishman came up to me and said, ‘I think I recognise you, don’t I?’

I said, ‘Oh, probably,’ and reached for my pen. I thought he was going to ask for an autograph.

‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘did you ever drive a bus in Watford?’

I said, ‘No.’

‘Dead spit of a chap who did,’ he said and walked away!

And then, only about two years ago in St John’s Wood, where I live, I went to our cleaners and there was a new lady behind the counter, a holiday relief. So I said, ‘Can you clean these trousers, please.’

She said, ‘Certainly, Mr Johnston.’

I said, ‘Very clever of you to recognise me.’

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I recognised your voice before you even spoke,’ if you can work that one out!

A
nd talking of stopping off, I always fly straight back if I go to Australia or anywhere, I don’t stop off for a day’s rest on the way. But when I was in Australia last time we had a married couple with us and they decided to have three days in Bangkok on the way back. They had two very pleasant days and on the last day the wife said, ‘I’m going shopping, you go and amuse yourself.’

He thought, Good idea! So he went to the hotel porter and got the address of a massage parlour. He went and knocked on the door and a little Thai girl came and said, ‘What can I do for you, sir?’

He said, ‘I’d like a massage.’

‘Certainly, sir.’

‘How much will that be?’

‘A thousand dollars.’

‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I can’t afford a thousand dollars. Two hundred dollars is the most that I can afford.’

She said, ‘I’m sorry, a thousand is our price. You’d better go somewhere else.’

Well, he didn’t bother. He went window shopping and went to pick up his wife at the appointed time. They were walking back to the hotel when down the street came this Thai girl, who looked at his wife and said, ‘There you are. See what you get for two hundred dollars!’

I
was in India last winter for two of the Test matches. It is a very strange country. Do you know, I still don’t know whether they drive on the left or the right. They steer very well, even around the cows lying in the middle of the road, but it is all very frightening.

And, of course, the food is very tricky. But they have got a new dish especially for Englishmen. It’s called ‘Boycott Curry’.

You still get the runs, but more slowly!