sunday times column week six

Americans suddenly liberate Paris, again.

Michael Jackson and OJ both got off, but not Paris, she did the crime and faced some time. Paris Hilton is released from prison after 3 days, rumours were that she had stopped eating. Poor old Paris is a hate figure here, epitomizing the famous for being famous set and oddly enough when she went into county prison it seemed that some people were warming to her, since in America there are private prisons where rich criminals can do their time in peace and avoid poor criminals, as they call them, Club Fed. Now that her lawyers have managed to get her out of the forty five days in the pokey I think that she is doing herself no favours and besides it strikes me that she has garnered so much publicity for herself as a brand out of this that she should be paying them.

Meanwhile Lindsey Lohan is back in rehab, Promise in Malibu, it has a reputation for being a little too lenient, but still planning a big bash for her 21st which in California is the legal age for drinking, Brittany is dating her drug counselor and Nicole Richie who is hoping not to get a prison sentence for driving down the freeway on the wrong side of the road stoned out of her empty head may or may not be pregnant.

I am flying to Seattle to shoot the first of a series of sketches on the show sponsored by a car company, it is sponsored product placement to get around the fact that so many people record shows and then watch them later, fast forwarding through the ads. I play Craig’s mad Scottish cousin, who has come to America to meet celebrities and Craig is anxious to avoid. I ask George, our wardrobe guy and the campest man in Hollywood, to find me a kilt for the part as I’ve left mine in London. Apparently they are not easy to get hold of but they do have some, mostly for productions of that masterpiece of Scottish social realism Brigadoon. The one he finds is old, missing its sporran and a little frayed around the edges, having got up at 4 am today I’m feeling very similar.

There is some talk of a bungee jumping sequence and I’m torn between my thrill seeking side and my abject terror of heights. George discretely suggests a pair of flesh coloured dance briefs to go under the kilt. I explain that nothing is worn under the kilt (it’s all in perfect working order) and he goes into an explanation of why if you are being catapulted at a great speed from a high bridge in a kilt, it might be better to have a bit of support for your personal equipment. I decide to pack them just in case, thinking that they may double as a sort of nappy.

I got a day’s work on a movie, The Kreutzer Sonata, it was shot on digital video with a tiny cast, so not exactly big budget, but hey, two hundred bucks is two hundred bucks. I play the Master of Ceremonies at a charity event and since most of it was improvised I had to come up with some jokes. My friend Lenny Levy told me this as his favourite Jewish Joke and I used it in the speech.

Once upon a time there was a very rich, old lady who had only one grandson, a boy of four whom she doted on. She asked the boy what he wanted for his fifth birthday and he said that he wanted to go to the seaside. So she dressed him up in his little sailor suit and his little sailor’s hat and despite the forecast of stormy weather off they went to the seaside.

So they’re standing there staring at the sea when a freak tidal wave sweeps in and plucks the little boy from where he is standing and the sea swallows him up, leaving the grandmother standing there alone.

The grandmother looks up and says to God,” Now look here, God, if you give me back my grandson I will become a much better person, I’ll give to the poor, I’ll pray every day, and I’ll never never ask you for anything else again as long as I live.”

Just then a second freak tidal wave comes along just like the first one and miraculously replaces the little boy on the very spot where he had stood a minute before. So the Grandmother looks down at the little boy and sees that he is soaking wet but completely unharmed, apart from the fact that he is missing his hat.

She looks up at God and says, “Now look here God, he had a hat!”