A Flick for Rik

I can't tell you how saddened I was by the news of Rik Mayall's death and - silly as it may sound - I've spent most of today thinking of his wife and family as they laid him to rest.

Like many, I felt a connection with the late great Mr Mayall but I was also fortunate enough to meet him.

So today, as requested by his wife Barbara Robbin, hubbie, son and I shared our stories as Rik went on his final journey.  And we laughed.  What better tribute?

* My ex-boyfriend came to my 19th birthday party (fancy dress) as Rik, and spent the whole night offering the vegetarians sausage rolls from his manky blazer pocket.

*  Hubbie was the first to get all of his friends into 'The Young Ones' when he lived in Australia.

* After a repeat episode of 'The Young Ones' I went into labour!

*  Twelve years later, the 'baby' I delivered was at the sick room at school and Rik was walking past on his way to a meeting with the Head.  He looked at my son and said, 'Alright, mate?'  He then added, 'Well, that was a stupid question.  You're with the nurse.  Course you're not alright!'

Our memories were all good ones.

The sadness comes for me because I know what it's like to lose a dad when you're 18.  I can't imagine what it must feel like to lose a husband that you love with all your heart but I've been giving it some thought today.

So when I found out that there was a petition asking Hammersmith & Fulham council to place a memorial bench for Rik on the site where the opening credits for 'Bottom' was filmed, I immediately signed up.  Maybe you could too?  I bet he made you laugh - and, in the unlikely event he didn't,  please do it for the lovely family man he was known to be.

And as my final tribute, following the very appropriate Twitter trend, here's my 'FLICK FOR RIK'

Dear So and So ...

Another round of imaginary letters that I'd love to write but never will.  These are always such fun to do and are quite therapeutic as you get things off your chest.

Here goes:

Dear Employers of Young People
If you're offering an apprenticeship at a poxy £40 a week, please have the decency to send a one line email to tell your applicants if they haven't been successful.  That's all it takes and, frankly, it's rude not to.  Remember when you were starting out in your career?  It's a tougher world out there now and all these kids want is a chance or at least an acknowledgment.  Give them some hope that people are decent as they start out on life's journey.

Dear Old Age
You stink.  You rob people of their friends and siblings and then sneak in and continue to rob those left behind of their vibrancy and will to live.  Frankly, I want no part of you - I don't want to live a life of aching limbs and loneliness.

Dear Troll
I am so happy that you now appear to have a life.  Your daily comments were a bore and, with any luck, you are now taking literacy lessons to brush up on your spelling.  My 'ill-educated' scribblings earn me a living whereas your pointless rants get you nowhere.  Anonymity, when leaving comments on a blog, only shows you up for the sad loser you really are.
Dear Stalker
Sadly the above had to be crossed out and you needed to be upgraded to 'Stalker'. You haven't got a life at all, have you?  And there I was with such high hopes for you.   Try to enjoy your holiday in Thailand rather than focusing on me and my kitchen. Oh, and see my reply to you below.

Dear Mouse at the back of the radiator
I feel sorry for you trapped in there but what a bloody stupid place to go and hide!  There's a nice, humane trap waiting for you with a huge chunk of stinky cheese - if you just find your way out to that, I promise you I will set you free.  Your incessant scratching is driving me nuts and if you give birth in there I swear I'll call in the big guns.

Dear Brain
Thanks for putting me through the mill these last few weeks.  I don't think you realise that you are really only able to cope with one plot at a time - thank goodness you've finally settled on the right one.  Also, I'd appreciate it if, when it's bedtime, you shut down and go to sleep.  It's not the time to start telling me what should happen in Chapter Five or what the final line should be.

Dear Wandsworth Borough Council
 You are a bunch of a*ses and you will not beat me.  Do not put the wrong date on letters so that you can then tell me my mother is out of appeal time because I am on to you and you won't get away with it.  If my mother wants sheltered housing for the elderly, I'll fight you all the way and you will not pull the wool over my eyes.  Beware - I am like a dog with a bone if riled!

Dear Melon
Why?  Why would you do that to me?  I have always loved you and one minor slip-up with some parma ham has made me wonder if you will ever pass my lips again.  You made me suffer to the point where I Googled every symptom and discovered I could be dead within the week (!)  Lesson learnt: melon + parma ham = bad combination for me.
NB:  for those wondering why, the fat of the meat congeals and ferments the fruit.  Not nice.

Dear Hole in Roof
Well, you picked your moment didn't you?  Just as the heaviest rains of the year arrive was not ideal for us, really. We will beat you with buckets and towels and, if necessary, move ourselves one floor down.  Your gaping cavity will eventually be fixed and we will make sure it hurts - no anaesthetic for you.

Dear Agents and Publishers
I'm ready for you - where are you?  If you're looking for a hard working new writer with five books and a novella under her belt, and two new titles due out later this year, HERE I AM!  Go on, make me an offer I can't refuse!

All done and, I have to say, that's really set me up for the day.  Nothing like a good outburst to have you breathing a contented sigh, is there?  Go on.  Who would you like to write to and what would you say?

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