Happy Monday, you gorgeous lot!
I started drafting this post to go up last Monday, as my first post of a new year… then I took a couple of unscheduled days off. Despite proudly asserting that I am never ill due to the adrenalin of self-employment and abject terror that comes with this, Chris got a cold and it kicked my ass for a few days too. I was a sorry sight.
Though we both felt like death warmed up, neither Chris nor I wanted to miss our traditional London tourist day in the dying days of December. When we lived in London, this was an important tradition that allowed us to be tourists in our home town – we have visited museums and galleries and covered miles and miles walked along the river in the shivering cold.
This year’s trip was thankfully lower impact on aching bones, as we headed to The Royal Festival Hall to see a show.
Million Dollar Quartet is the story of one recording session in December 1956, featuring Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Johnny Cash, orchestrated by Sun Records owner and rock’n’roll visionary, Sam Phillips. If you love rock’n’roll music, as I do, I cannot recommend this show highly enough. Each performer was outstanding in their own right but it was truly magical when they performed as the quartet. I also have something of a soft spot for the actor in the role of Sam Phillips, Martin Kemp.
OK, scratch that… I have a massive crush on Martin Kemp. It all started when he rocked up on Albert Square as Steve Owen in 1998. I was 16 and he was suited, booted, and bumping characters off with ashtrays – it’s funny to think of how dated that story line is already, post the smoking ban – I was in love. I stopped watching EastEnders the day that they killed off this handsome character but my crush has not abated.
Despite getting married!
Thankfully, Chris understands this celebrity crush and bought our tickets to the show in a row far enough back from the stage that I couldn’t throw my knickers.
However, Chris did suggest that I get in touch with the relevant publicity team and try to deliver a cake to Martin Kemp, someone I would desperately love to bake for. Not just because he is devastatingly handsome, but also because I’m (perhaps obviously) a Spandau Ballet fan, a fan of his films, and he seems like a really nice guy. The story of how he overcame two brain tumours and maintained a functioning private family life throughout a career that has seen 30 years of highs and lows is inspirational. I love to think of him learning bass guitar on the job after being brought into Spandau Ballet as Gary Kemp’s eye-candy baby brother!
So, if I am such a big fan, why didn’t I jump at the chance to deliver a cake to Martin Kemp at the show? It wasn’t because I felt far from fighting fit to meet anyone, let alone my long-time celebrity crush… though that would have been an issue. The last person you want to pass your cold on to is an actor on a three week stage run with matinees!
I have been thinking about this an awful lot. With the anniversary of the death of David Bowie, my idol and someone I will now never meet, shouldn’t I be grabbing the chance to meet my heroes with both hands?*
*Don’t worry, Martin, I’m more of a blusher than a grabber.
They are only human, after all.
My theory is that each of us needs that someone special; Someone unattainable, almost unreal, making you squeee a little squeee when they pop up on the telly or on the radio. I know that there are many people who feel this excitement about countless famous folk, or indeed about anyone who has been on the telly, but I have impossibly high standards.
There is fame, there is celebrity, but this is an icon.
Martin is also a huge fan of David Bowie.
Damn it, he’s so wonderful… sorry, I completely lost my train of thought for a moment there.
I have talked before about meeting our heroes when I baked a cake for Tony Visconti, and how I admire those with the bravery to meet their heroes when I baked a cake for Robert Smith (just click on the name to read the posts if you fancy) but I am content to forever remain a 16yr old kid with a crush when it comes to Martin Kemp.
What does one bake for a celebrity crush? I think it would have to be a massive heart-shaped Chocolate Mud Cake… left on the doorstep… and run away as fast as these stiletto heels can carry me!
Be honest, I bet there is one person that you would completely fail to function in front of. Be brave today and comment below… who is your celebrity crush?