Friday, February 17, 2006
Rick Witter and Me
You know before, in a previous post, when I suggested that York doesn't have any celebs? Well, I was wrong. How could I forget the city's resident indie rock god - Mr Richard Witter? At least, Rick Witter is the closest thing to a resident rock god that York is likely to get.
You may remember him as the cheeky, waif-like scamp who used to sing in Shed Seven. He's also famous for having the world's stupidest haircut 1995-98*. He had big hair. Big helmet hair. It looked like a heron had built a vast nest on his head when he wasn't looking. Famously, in 1998, Rick's haircut went on the rampage in the city centre - at one stage abducting a young woman and climbing to the top of the Cathedral spire. It was all over the news. Sadly, after having captured the rampant beast in a large net, the authorities felt there was no other option than to have it humanely destroyed. Rick's haircut is now on display in a specially designed glass cabinet in the city's Natural History Museum and is, in fact, York's number 2 tourist attraction (after that medieval street where the butchers lived or whatever).
Anyway, I digress. The real point of this post is to impress you all with the fact that I know a music star**. Sort of. You see Rick lives not far from me, and he shops in my local shop. We're on very good terms. I often see him out and about on the glam streets (or should I say.... magic streets... a ha hahahaha hhha) of Micklegate or in Sainsbury's/Jacksons (very upmarket - they sell fresh vegetables sometimes). I'm not stalking him or anything. The other week, he was in the shop with his pram and sprog and had just paid for his shopping and had to walk right past me through the very narrow space between checkout and baskets of tat (the baskets of tat these shops always keep near to the checkout). Naturally, being a gentleman, I moved slightly to one side to let the great man and pram through the gap - 'Cheers mate' he said, with a cheeky little smile.
'Alright mate'. I said.
You see it's like that. There's a natural affinity between us. An unspoken, quiet, mutual respect. I have absolutely no doubt that in a few days I shall be living it up with Rick and all his rock star mates. In fact they'll probably get me to front a new super cool indie group for them. I suppose I'd do it, but I do have quite a lot of commitments at the moment. I probably wouldn't be able to do any world tours for a while. Anyway, you heard it here first. I'm starting to grow my hair in anticipation.
* The title is currently held by Noel Fielding of The Mighty Boosh.
** For legal reasons I have to point out that this is, technically, misleading. I do not actually know him.
You may remember him as the cheeky, waif-like scamp who used to sing in Shed Seven. He's also famous for having the world's stupidest haircut 1995-98*. He had big hair. Big helmet hair. It looked like a heron had built a vast nest on his head when he wasn't looking. Famously, in 1998, Rick's haircut went on the rampage in the city centre - at one stage abducting a young woman and climbing to the top of the Cathedral spire. It was all over the news. Sadly, after having captured the rampant beast in a large net, the authorities felt there was no other option than to have it humanely destroyed. Rick's haircut is now on display in a specially designed glass cabinet in the city's Natural History Museum and is, in fact, York's number 2 tourist attraction (after that medieval street where the butchers lived or whatever).
Anyway, I digress. The real point of this post is to impress you all with the fact that I know a music star**. Sort of. You see Rick lives not far from me, and he shops in my local shop. We're on very good terms. I often see him out and about on the glam streets (or should I say.... magic streets... a ha hahahaha hhha) of Micklegate or in Sainsbury's/Jacksons (very upmarket - they sell fresh vegetables sometimes). I'm not stalking him or anything. The other week, he was in the shop with his pram and sprog and had just paid for his shopping and had to walk right past me through the very narrow space between checkout and baskets of tat (the baskets of tat these shops always keep near to the checkout). Naturally, being a gentleman, I moved slightly to one side to let the great man and pram through the gap - 'Cheers mate' he said, with a cheeky little smile.
'Alright mate'. I said.
You see it's like that. There's a natural affinity between us. An unspoken, quiet, mutual respect. I have absolutely no doubt that in a few days I shall be living it up with Rick and all his rock star mates. In fact they'll probably get me to front a new super cool indie group for them. I suppose I'd do it, but I do have quite a lot of commitments at the moment. I probably wouldn't be able to do any world tours for a while. Anyway, you heard it here first. I'm starting to grow my hair in anticipation.
* The title is currently held by Noel Fielding of The Mighty Boosh.
** For legal reasons I have to point out that this is, technically, misleading. I do not actually know him.
