When I did a piece on Ruthie Henshall’s Norwich gig a while ago, I slipped in a little anecdote about my pipe cleaning days and a drag queen called Dockyard Doris. This sent me on a trip around You Tube to find old footage of the lovely Doris. I discovered a few clips but none worth showing to your nan. While I was digging, I stumbled across some old recordings of Phil Starr. Warm memories came flooding back of simpler days when a real belly laugh was easier to come by. Phil Starr was an old school drag queen comic with impeccable timing and a closet-full of shaggy dog stories, each with a witty twist. Cutting but never cruel, Phil started his career in the Fifties and played to packed pubs right up to his sudden death in 2005 at the age of 73. I saw Phil sprinkle his fairly dust in the East End and Brighton. I laughed so much, it hurt.
I’ve picked out one example for your delectation. It’s rude, just a little bit crude and not at all PC. Change channels now if you’re easily offended.
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