Bill's Blog - October 25th
NEWS OF THE WILD

STRICTLY

I could have been Anne Widdicombe. Or am I more Russell Grant?

So what weird fantasy is this? Have I decided to come out and confess my secret desire to be on Strictly Come Dancing? Well, the fact is I could’ve been. No, honestly, a couple of months ago the Strictly office rang me, and asked if I would like to come in and discuss my being on this year’s show. I decided to go into the office if only because it gave me an excuse to get all nostalgic about the old Studios at BBCTV Centre, which are due to be sold off rather than plastered in blue plaques and preserved for ever as a shrine to the great BBC shows of yesteryear.

There was also the small possibility that I might bump into one of the bosses, who might recognise me and remember that I used to appear a lot on BBC 2, and could do so again. If they asked me. I can dream.

PAN’S PEOPLE

But here was a dream that could come true. Or would it be a nightmare? It was up to me. The people in the Strictly office were really nice, and it wasn’t long before we were giggling together, as we acknowledged that I would be cast as the little fat one who couldn’t really dance. Vanity forced me to inform them that I had danced on Broadway and won rave reviews, and had frequently been choreographed by the lovely – and sadly now late – Flick Colby, the mentor of Pan’s People no less.

On the other hand – or should it be other foot? – my style was strictly NOT ballroom. This was partially because the mention of quicksteps and fox trots brought back painful memories of the Sixth Form Dance, where I was an eternal wallflower, sitting forlornly in my ill fitting dinner suit, wishing that my bow tie would finally asphyxiate me and put me out of my misery.

WRITHING

That’s another thing. Costumes. Imagine me in a sky blue silk trouser suit, with a neckline plunging to the waist, revealing a belly that could compete with a Christmas pudding. Actually, I wouldn’t imagine that if you want to sleep tonight. As for the combination of fake tan and facial hair! My head would look like a Sweet Chestnut.

The chief interviewer lady attempted to shatter my objections by pointing out that back in the 1970’s I had shamelessly cavorted in the Goodies, in everything from a miniskirt to a mouse costume, and that silk trousers, hippy waistcoats and bling was my standard dress when I went clubbing. I couldn’t deny that, but I pointed out that the dancing in those days consisted of little more than rhythmic writhing, which took place largely in the dark.

“The truth is” I explained “ I have never ever done any ballroom dancing.”

“Well, that is exactly the point!” The lady countered. I couldn’t deny that either.

PERFECT

To be perfectly honest ,I could see all too well why I was an ideal choice for Strictly. I was totally unsuited. Perfect. What’s more, we’d shared a nice pot of tea , biscuits, and some merry banter and I didn’t want to disappoint them.. “You’ll love it.” They assured me. “Everybody who’s done it has.” Maybe ,but what about those watching? Like-for example – my family. I decided to give them the vote.

HATE

My middle daughter, who is a dance teacher and choreographer and therefore knows about these things, was practical in the extreme. “It’ll kill you”, she said. ”It’s very hard work, and you are not very fit, and let’s face it, you are a bit overweight.”

My wife Laura, who abhors negativity, immediately spotted a positive slant. “ You won't go on a diet, so if you lost weight that’d be good.” Then she added, almost as an afterthought: “But not if it kills you.”

She clearly felt it incumbent on her to come up with some of my more cerebral flaws. “You are very bad at learning things.“

“You hate being taught” agreed Rosie, daughter number 2. “When you tried to learn guitar for that BBC2 program you made your teacher cry!”

Kate – daughter number 3 - agreed totally. “You’ll say what you think and upset someone, and then you‘ll say you hate ballroom dancing anyway, and all the viewers will be thinking “so why is he doing it then?”, and they’ll all hate you too.”

OK, I‘d got the message. “So I’ll take that as a ‘No’ shall I? Kate, no. Rosie, no. Bonnie, no, and Laura?“

“You must do what you want to do. But…no.”

“So, that’s four NO’s!"

Even as I spoke those words, the truth dawned on me.

“You know what? I want to watch X Factor.”

CELEB

Oh dear, half a blog gone and I haven’t mentioned wildlife. I promise I will. Meanwhile, let me tell you why I turned down I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here, twice.

As it happens I reckon this is one of the ‘best’ of the “reality shows”, in so far as there has been some genuine interaction between an unarguably diverse bunch of people, and nobody could deny that it is physically and psychologically challenging.

The costumes are of course much more my style, and even without my binoculars I would surely spy some interesting Australian rainforest fauna. Indeed, when I was first approached, somebody commented: “It should be easy for you, you go to that sort of place all the time. Just carry on watching the wildlife.”

COCKROACHES

Watching it yes, but not eating it. Call me a soppy old insect lover if you like, but chewing live grubs and grasshoppers, or crunching through barrels of coackroaches is not my idea of animal welfare. Maybe all the contestants should be forced to watch Attenborough’s Life of Insects, and then handed a plateful of spiders and beatles to swallow. Insects are not some kind of lesser life.

Here’s a thought, the most malevolent and the most beneficial wild creatures in the world are insects. Malaria carrying mosquitos, and pollen carrying bees. Bad or good, I find the idea of any living thing being sacrificed for laughs on a TV show - what’s the word?

Distasteful.

SERIOUS

Talking of dodgy food. It is this time of the year that weekend newspapers and colour supplements are likely to carry articles on gathering, cooking and eating wild fungi. One word of advice: don’t!

The article will no doubt include a warning along the lines of: “Make absolutely certain that the mushroom you have picked really is edible.”Yes, and how do we do that?" Look it up in a mushroom identification book, or on the internet. I presume. The warning further informs us: “Many poisonous fungi look very similar to an edible species and vice versa.”

If you want to confirm that: also look in the book. Peruse the pictures – whether photos or illustrations – and you will find pages and pages of apparently identical fungi. Many are the same colour, although in some species the colour may vary. So too the shape and size.

Some can only be safely identified by dissecting them! Others, you’d probably have to eat to be sure what they are. It's either that one – ‘edible when fresh’ – or that one – ‘causes severe stomach pains and vomiting, and can be occasionally fatal.’

If you think I am just scaremongering or have recently joined the Mushroom Liberation Front, get a book or two, find some fungi and try and sort them out for yourself. But before you fry ‘em in butter and garlic, remember, a mistake could have serious consequences. I repeat my advice: don’t!

NO ADVERTISING

And finally… I am often asked which binoculars I use and which “outdoor clothing” I wear. Such secrets must never be revealed on BBC TV – no advertising knowingly allowed – but I can tell you here.

I use Swarowski optical equipment, and I am kept snug and dry by Country Innovation. And neither of them are paying me to say that.

I am now to be found monthly in the sumptuous and vastely informative BBC Wildlife Magazine. And they are paying me, but that’s for writing the articles.

Bill Oddie

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Bill's Blog - October 25th NEWS OF THE WILD