In the buttock-prints of greatness

As part of our recent sojourn to Stratford Upon Avon, Mrs The Millbrooker and I met up with my sister, Teresa. She'd brought along Martyn, her partner, and Georgie (my niece) who in turn brought along her current squeeze, Ian.


We ate at the only pub I've been in that boasts two names. It was originally, and still is, The Black Swan. During the last war some GIs were stationed close by and they started calling it The Dirty Duck. The name stuck and the pub sign now shows both names:

Here's one of The Millbrooker-Sis and her man anxiously awaiting their respective meals. I'm sure Teresa will be eternally grateful to me for publishing this flattering portrait of feminine gentility.

The meal was a jolly decent one and the company, naturally, of the best. We had a whale of a time and enjoyed being very rude to each other. Sadly the expense of the get-together rose considerably as the northern-dwelling part of the family left to discover they'd overstayed their welcome in the parking space they'd occupied:

But what is all this nonsense in the headline about "buttock-prints of greatness"? The table we were shown to for our meal had been signed by many of the great and good of the theatrical world. Just at the point where yours truly was sitting was this signature:

That's Dame Judi Dench! My bottom has graced the same chair as her esteemed and worshipful botty-cheeks. I could barely contain my excitement. Even if they'd moved the chairs around since Her Grandness visited I've at least touched a piece of wood blessed by her fair hand. Aah, swoon.

Ever so slightly less famous, but admired throughout the land as the voice of "showtime" on Sarah Kennedy's radio 2 programme, Guy Henry had used and vandalised the table too:

All together now....."It's Showtime"