Ah ha.

It has been sometime since I posted, and for good reason. I have to say my experiences have been less than good.

Three weeks ago, I recieved a telephone call, asking me if I would appear in a series of televisual advertisments for the Gay cause. I am not gay myself, but I have many gay friends. Some of whom I suspect are gay, some of whom are openly gay, and one another who seems to be a self-elected recruitment officer. Some of their music is a little much tho. it's so loud.

"We need you" said the voice at the other end of the phone, whose name I cannot mention (though I will use a non-de-plum) "What is it, Mr Tatchelleski?" I asked. He went on to explain they needed a man of my build, stature and name to appear at a protest for equal rights. I am a firm believer in equal rights, whether you are male, female, straight, gay, black, white or Welsh.

Older readers may remember I was a big tool in the movement for Vaccination for Voice Over Artistes, something even today I feel passionately about. What could be more important than informing people that the lady loves milk tray, or that your whites could indeed be a shade whiter or even that the new Nissan is about a quarter of an inch higher than the old one thus justifying the eight grand extra on the price? I was also a founder member of the Society For The Liberation of the Caged Tiger, although that was discontinued after several incidents of supporters being eaten. And so I am no stranger to political controversy. I also stood for office in Dagenham East some years back, garnering over 8 votes.

"What is it, Mr Tatchelleski?" "We need someone to stand up and be a mascot for our cause. Someone to do something to get attention. We need you naked, wandering around Picadilly Circus with a flan on your head". It was a challenge. It was acting and art in a symbiotic relationship which would allow me the freedom of expression so rarely enjoyed. "I'll do it!" I said. Although I had no idea where to buy a flan at such short notice.

Over the next ten days I played with flans and poses in front of the mirror. Coy with Coucous, coquettish with Apricots, Bold and Brazen with loganberry. It became an obsession. Should I be a stout defender of the cause? Should I shove this message into the conciousness of the great unwashed? Should I stand proud and unashamed? Where can you get mango in September?

My cleaner, Mrs Everidge called. I was not to be distracted. "You'll have to tolerate my nakedness and vacuum around me" I told her "I am working on something". Old Pro that she is, she vacuumed around me while I experimented in a Chekov aspect with a merange. Visitors came and went. It was a blur. My agent. My best friend and his wedding guests. Some people from Social Services. All their protestations simply reinforced my belief I was on the right track. Despite the injections.