Like the World's Oldest Blogger, Joan Sanderson waited a long time for her version of Andy Warhol's 15 minutes of fame.
Near the end of a solid acting career, which had included numerous television and stage roles including lots of Shakespeare, The Mousetrap and Please Sir!, Joan accepted a smallish part in Fawlty Towers.
She played the deaf-as-a-doorpost hotel guest, Mrs Richards, and the scene in which she complains about the view from her room is a classic of British broadcast humour, one of the most memorable moments of a fabulous comedy series. In 1982, three years after the episode was shown for the first time, Joan died aged 79.
Before I get round to the details of a little Salut! competition - the closing date for entries, I have decided, will be 9am UAE time on Thursday July 24 - I should say that by following this link or the one at the top of my list of items beneath the sidebar subheading The National, you will see that I have written about Mrs Richards in my weekly column, which appears today.
In it, I mention a few Mrs Richards moments from expat life and wonder, tongue in cheek naturellement, if the effect they have is turning me into Basil Fawlty.
You will remember, if - as is rather likely - you watched the series, that Basil responds to Mrs Richards's rebuke about the view of Torquay from her window affords by exclaiming:
That is Torquay, madam... might I ask what you expected to see out of a Torquay hotel bedroom window? Sydney Opera House, perhaps? The hanging gardens of Babylon? Herds of wildebeest sweeping majestically...
My theory is that the exchange reflects many of the conflicts and situations that arise in life generally; the ones I describe in my column apply to my life here in Abu Dhabi, but variations occur daily everywhere.
My expat examples included:
• living in a country that rose from the desert and complaining that sand blows on to the balcony• agreeing, as a chap of a certain age, to go dancing in a Jumeirah nightspot only to moan that the high-volume techno trash makes it feel like undergoing third-century invasive surgery
Another, geographically neutral instance might be: marrying an airline pilot and then protesting that he goes away a lot.
The competition is simple: come up with your own Mrs Richards moment, some cause-and-effect incident or anecdote that produces a Fawlty-style response in you. Or tell me why you'd choose another scene as the best moment of Fawlty Towers.
The winner will be whoever comes up with the wittiest, cleverest or otherwise most appealing response. The prize is the complete Fawlty Towers collection or any other item from my Amazon bookshelf (see righthand sidebar on this page). Salut!'s decision may be irrational, but it will also be final.
I would like entries to be posted here, but you may use the e-mail link - top right corner of this page - if you prefer.
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