Tee hee

“About a year ago, I’m in a car, somebody else is driving, my phone rings, and I answer it, and a voice says ‘Hello, it’s me, I’m doing my autobiography and there’s something I can’t remember, and I thought maybe you can help me with it’. And my heart welled. It’s like, Terry, you have Alzheimer’s, I will be your memory … I said ‘What is it you need to know?’,” begins Gaiman, wryly.

“He said ‘Well, you remember we were on the Good Omens author tour in February 1990’ … He said ‘We were in New York and we went to that ABC affiliate radio station, and the interviewer had not actually read the book … so when we started telling him about Agnes Nutter … we started explaining about this 17th century witch who all of her predictions were true … He did not realise this was fictional. We realised he had not read the book, and the engineers in the control room behind the glass panel who we could see and he could not, were lying on their backs kicking their legs against the walls.’

And I said, ‘Of course I remember. I was willing to let that go on for the entire interview’… He said ‘So, you remember we walked out, and then we walked down the street, and we were singing the They Might Be Giants’ song Shoehorn with Teeth’, and I’m like, ‘I will take your word for it on that one’.

He said ‘Was it 40th, 41st or 42nd Street?’. At which point I’m going, ‘You have fucking Alzheimer’s, I don’t know’. That is how I want to remember Terry.”

12 thoughts on “Tee hee”

  1. I was never a fan of his books, but I liked Sir Terry. He was a man who had a permanent wry smile for the ridiculousness of life.

    And, out of all the well-known Terrys: Terry-Thomas, Terry Waite, and Terry’s Chocolate Orange, he was the best.

  2. Terry Gilliam?
    Terry Jones?
    Terry Scott?
    Terry Rattigan?
    Terry McCann?

    I’ve just had one of those moments, where the more you say a word, the sillier it sounds…

  3. I am a massive fan of his books and, by extension, the sort of splendid person who could write such things. The comment’s hitherto remind me of the marvellous game from Cabin Pressure, Brians of Britain…

    Hanrahan

  4. So Much for Subtlety

    He must have been pulling the poor sod’s leg.

    At the other end of the spectrum, Jeffrey Bernard once put an advert in the Spectator asking if anyone could remember where he had been and what he had been doing between some odd dates like 1971 to 1976. He didn’t even have Parkinson’s.

  5. So Much for Subtlety

    Edward Lud – “Or, indeed, Terentius.”

    Careful! Terentius was an undocumented involuntary African American immigrant to Europe. Laugh at his name and Ironman will be along in a second to demand you are banned or something. You don’t want to mess with the Guardianistas.

    I wonder if we have always thought that “Terrence” was a bit gay, as boy’s names go, or whether it acquired it in more recent times? Was Terry a strong butch name about the time Terry Wogan was born or was it always a little bit dubious? I guess it is a question of whether behaviours that are effeminate are social constructs or whether they have some objective cause – the sound for instance? I would lean towards the latter for political reasons, but presumably the former is more plausible.

    In which case, what other name is likely to become just a little too gay-ish?

  6. “Who could forget Terry Wogan? Who could forget root canal work?” – Wogan is a class act, give him a chance.

    He puts the other person at the centre, so old fashioned and different from the vanity of so many modern hosts.

  7. SMFS – I’ve always found ‘Kenneth’ somewhat, erm, gay. And I can say that as I am one (but not a Kenneth thank God, that would be embarrassing).

  8. Never knew Pratchett, but do know Neil Gaiman. At his father’s memorial service, I was astonished when he called me by name 20 to 30 years since we had met, briefly.

    And Lockers, my father was Kenneth, he had 2 wives, several mistresses, myself and my sister, so not gay, I rather think.

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