And the world record goes to…

Yesterday I drove back into London from West Sussex in what can only be described as a foggy whiteout. It was like sitting  in the car with all the windows and windscreen being covered in cotton wool , and a game of chance as to whether or not any of us would make it through the  invisible lanes,  without ending up in the ditch or in some unsuspecting  villagers sitting room. 

There is a point in this journey when Radio 4 gives up the ghost and I become reliant on local radio stations. These invariably turn out to be way more interesting anyway, at least for a short time. Yesterday the theme was world records. I bet a lot of money that you had no idea that the largest collection of sick bags ( empty I hope) is 5,568. And that Sooty the guinea pig  is a champion because he received 206 Valentine cards from all over the world.. and that Truffles another guinea pig from Fife holds the long jump crown  coming in at a hefty 48cms. This information was topped only by people managing to break ridiculous amounts of wooden loo seats, raw eggs and sitting room furniture over their heads and someone who managed to keep 8 snails crawling on his face for 10 seconds. I mean, why would you want to ?

When  we were living in Tokyo and doing circus shows  in the 80’s,  we used to go into international schools to perform for the kids. At one school in Yokohama we were particularly struck by the amazing artwork that was posted up all over the school hallways and classrooms. Really big, bold exciting stuff. While we were having tea in the staff room we were introduced to the art teacher, a fairly unassuming guy who I think was from Denmark. We got on famously. After we had finished and were clearing up he came over and gave me one of his postcards. If you can imagine the most extreme conversation stopper then this was it. It was a photograph of him, naked, suspended from a crane over a bustling street in Copenhagen and he was hanging from hooks sticking through the skin on his back and legs. I mean, why on earth would you want to multiplied by about a million times?. Although we had no idea at the time he is incredibly well known for his performance art and a while ago inserted electrodes into his arm  so that somebody else could control his movements.

However,  returning to the slightly less revolting world of bathing in cold baked beans and balancing chairs on your nose , I was interested to hear about some sherif in the States who holds  the record for having been struck by lightning a total of seven times. I think I saw  a TV programme about him,  but all I can remember is that he had a rather tragic resigned expression and seemed a bit bemused generally at his lot in life. Then again I imagine any fighting spirit had been zapped out of him by all that lightning. I had my own brush with lightning a couple of years ago. One summer, we had  couple of  very  heavy thunder storms. I was in the allotment when the sky started to darken and within minutes it was raining very hard. I knew that I had left the side windows open in my attic so I ran inside to shut them. As I put my left arm out to pull the window hinge inwards there was a large bang, a sort of whooshing feeling up my arm  and I was thrown backwards on to the floor. I then felt really sick,  a bit like that feeling when you mistakenly put your finger in a dodgy light fitting.

 Not something I wish to repeat at any point, though I was  famous in our street and the kids thought I was cool for a brief fleeting moment. At it was fun to imagine I had super powers for a day or so.