So, Graham Norton

I just finished Graham Norton’s autobiography and although it is not the kind of thing I would have bought myself, I really enjoyed it, even though I think his programme on the telly is kind of useless. Of course, he is from Cork and it was interesting to get the inside track on what it’s really like inside Bandon Grammar.  All we knew was that they were protestants and ferociously good at hockey.  I remember one girl who was expelled for giving cheek to the nuns went off there and I met her again in college and she had become a very talented hockey player in the meanwhile.  I think I can safely say her skills would not have prospered in the same way had the following exchange not taken place:

Nun with clipboard noting the names of latecomers (always including me but I was very humble about it):  You’re late.

Me: Sorry, sorry, sister, it won’t happen again (craven lie), I slept out, the alarm didn’t go off, my parents were away, the cat ate my bike, I’m an abandoned child, please, please forgive me.

Girl who was subsequently expelled: Well, ten out of ten for observation, sister.

Anyway, I digress.  I liked the Cork bits but I’m not sure that they would be so appealing to outsiders, but who knows.  All the stuff before he was famous was quite good but once he becomes famous, it’s a bit of a tedious list of the great and the good.  The good news is it takes him a long time to become famous.  There is one good bit from when he’s famous.   For reasons, I won’t bore you with, he ends up having lunch at Sharon Stone’s house with his mother who is an entirely authentic Irish mammy. And she tells Sharon Stone that her (Ms. Stone’s) child’s name which she (Ms. Stone) believes to be Irish isn’t an Irish name at all and only a made up one.   Mr. Norton was mortified.  But you have to admire the Irish mother, a reliable product all round.