Toupee Time

Hello. And you're back with me, Charlene Dawson, coasting right down the middle of that road till four o'clock in the a.m. So whether you're a trucker, a trucker's mucker, or a plain old insomniac, stick with me, Charlene Dawson. I'll be with you till four o'clock when I'll be handing you over to the very capable hands of my very good friend, Conrad Meredith. With his very popular blend of two hours of organ music, prayer, and plenty of that old anti-abortion chit-chat. So stick with me, Charlene Dawson, I'll be putting the wee into the wee small hours. Well, that's enough blarney from me, Charlene, let's get straight on with the nitty, not forgetting the gritty, let's plunge right on in with Toupee Time. Yes, this is the part of the show dedicated to toupee wearers, toupee collectors and toupee fans from as far away as the Netherlands. And I've a letter here from Ginger Parsons of Hathersage. He writes to say, 'I have a black Crown Topper. Side parting - needs some attention. Would exchange for similar in dark chestnut, or portable Olivetti typewriter.' Mrs Ivy Smith of Medway writes to say, 'My husband died recently.' Oh, lots of regrets and oodles of sympathy from me, Charlene Dawson, on that one. No, death is quite an upheaval, and I should know, I've had four cats since 1978. One good thing, Mrs Smith, I don't suppose you had to carry your husband through the house on a shovel and bury him in the back garden. She goes on to say, 'My husband died recently and left, among many other valuable articles, eight toupees dating from 1954. The old elasticated sort rather than the stick-on variety which later became popular.' She says one in particular has interesting historical associations as it was blown off during the state opening of Parliament, 1958. Whoo hoo! Toupee requests now. Arthur Tomato of Scullduggery writes to say, 'Excuse my wobbly handwriting, Charlene, I'm writing with my left hand to raise money for charity - in aid of Toupee Concern.' Arthur is keen to track down that very popular make of hair piece, the 'Undetectable'. He says, 'I do not mind which shade, Charlene, but styles preferred are the Clifford or the Pedro.' On a more serious note, folks, many many listeners have phoned in to me, Charlene Dawson, to let me know that old 'chain toupee' has reared itself up again, so if anybody does send you a toupee asking you to wear it for a week and pass it on, please don't. Just send it to me, Charlene Dawson, I'll get rid of it for you. Honestly, I think if these jokers can't find something better to do with their time they should be executed. Well, I know you say those days have long gone but I don't know, there was something nice about capital punishment. It meant never having to say you were sorry. Well it's nearly time for the four o'clock news now, nearly time for Charlene to say goodbye. We may hear a little bit more on that Saddam Hussein story we heard at three. Now, I don't know Saddam myself personally though I do have some friends who rented a holiday bungalow from him and they found him very reasonable, with quite a fondness for the records of Jackie Trent and Tony Hatch, apparently. So no one's all bad, are they folks. Well I'm going to close the show in my usual way with a little bit of music. Not Jackie Trent tonight, I'm going to close the show with one of my own ditties because I do know from my postbag that Charlene's ditties are the biggest things in the show.

Charlene's Ideal World

I was chatting to some lady friends of mine the other day,
About how life was better years ago,
There was ballroom dancing, discipline and snow on Christmas Day,
And hanging was quite common then, you know.
We all grew quite nostalgic as we munched our gypsy creams.
Our tea was left untasted in the cup.
Suppose we ladies could be granted all our hopes and schemes?
What paradise would then be conjured up?
Our faces were at once alight with glee,
As we thought how blissful such a world could be.

A world of hope,
A world of Lifebuoy soap,

A world where everyone looks nice.
We'll waltz along
To our very favourite song,
Julie Andrews singing "Edelweiss",
And when we rush
To our new low-level flush,
Then the waters they will foam bright blue,
In that far-off land, that paradise where dreams come true.

We can see it all so clearly, country, coast and town,

Where every worker grateful sings and hums.
There could be a bit of flogging, just to keep the unions down,
And massive fines for all unmarried mums.
We could round up all the moaners, all the lefties, all that lot,
And send them with the poets outward bound,
Have alternative comedians castrated. Well, why not,
Cause eunuchs are so nice to have around?
Smiles about our faces gently curled,
As we sketched the details of our perfect world.

A world of whites,
Of ninety denier tights,

Of lavs that smell of pot pourri,
Where lawns are paved,
And underarms are shaved,
And housewives get their husbands' tea.
Oh, there'll be Draylon suites,
With stain-resistant seats,
From Todmorden to Timbuktu,
In that far-off land that, paradise where dreams come true.

A world where shopping bags are carried,
And Cliff Richard's getting married,
Though I wouldn't care to say who to,
In that far-off land, that paradise where dreams come true.

So this is Charlene Dawson saying good night, God bless, drive safely - and if you do hear about any miscarriages of justice - keep your mouths shut. Ciao!

© Victoria Wood