FIRST IMPRESSIONS: ALAN DAVIES
What are you working on?
My new stand-up show, Little Victories.
When were you at your happiest?
There are glimpses in my childhood of nice moments, but my mum died when I was six, so I have patchy little memories. I remember her giving me a spud gun. I don’t know how she knew it was the perfect thing but the fact that I still remember it over 40 years later tells you something about how happy I was. Nowadays I’m happiest when I’m with my wife and children and nobody is screaming.
What is your greatest fear?
Anything happening to the kids.
What is your earliest memory?
We lived in a house in Chingford, and there was a lady up the road called Auntie Marples – I remember small, strange little things from days in that first house.
What do you most dislike about yourself?
Shouting at my kids. My wife suggests that when one of them has a tantrum they’re best ignored. But I spent most of my childhood being ignored and I don’t think it was good for me.
Who has been your greatest influence?
After my mum died, dad would put adverts in The Lady looking for somebody to sit with us until he got home. There was one lady in particular called Jenny who was with us for a number of years and was very kind. So thanks to The Lady for that.
What is your most treasured possession?
In the event of a fire we would save the children and leave the rest.
What do you most dislike about your appearance?
I would like to look like an Olympic athlete. But if I’m unable to take myself down the gym, then it’s on me, isn’t it?
What trait do you most deplore in others?
People who shirk their responsibilities. We have a neighbour who, when our shared wall fell down, refused to pay his share. I found that unspeakable.
What is your favourite book?
A Prayer For Owen Meany by John Irving.
Your favourite film?
The Blues Brothers.
Your favourite music?
If I chose a desert island disc I would take the music from In The Hall Of The Mountain King, from Grieg’s Peer Gynt.
And your favourite meal?
It’s hard to go past fish and chips.
Who would you most like to come to dinner?
You would have to start with Jesus, and not just because he would be handy if you ran out of wine. Michelle Pfeiffer and Woody Allen – but in their best mood. I don’t want Jesus in the corner healing the sick and Woody Allen being an introvert. I’d also have Debbie Harry, circa 1978.
What is the nastiest thing anyone has ever said to you?
Since the internet and social networking sites, it’s jaw-dropping the things people will say.
Do you believe in aliens?
It seems impossible, considering the vastness of the universe, that it could only happen once – here.
What is your secret vice?
Cheddar. I don’t drink alcohol any more because it’s incompatible with two-year-olds bouncing on your head.
Do you write thank-you notes?
I don’t want any more gifts. The whole thing fills me with tension.
Which phrase do you most overuse?
‘Sorry, I’ve just farted.’
What would most improve the quality of your life?
More control over my wind... No, I’d like to have two lives: one for sleeping and reading books and another for working and having children.
Tell us something we don’t know about you.
I love watching my two-year-old do ballet. He’s the only boy in the group. He went along with his big sister and wanted to join in.
What would you like your epitaph to read?
‘Finally, a good night’s sleep.’
The Little Victories tour, 3 April to 13 December: 0844-844 0444, www.ticketmaster.co.uk
My new stand-up show, Little Victories.
When were you at your happiest?
There are glimpses in my childhood of nice moments, but my mum died when I was six, so I have patchy little memories. I remember her giving me a spud gun. I don’t know how she knew it was the perfect thing but the fact that I still remember it over 40 years later tells you something about how happy I was. Nowadays I’m happiest when I’m with my wife and children and nobody is screaming.
What is your greatest fear?
Anything happening to the kids.
What is your earliest memory?
We lived in a house in Chingford, and there was a lady up the road called Auntie Marples – I remember small, strange little things from days in that first house.
What do you most dislike about yourself?
Shouting at my kids. My wife suggests that when one of them has a tantrum they’re best ignored. But I spent most of my childhood being ignored and I don’t think it was good for me.
Who has been your greatest influence?
After my mum died, dad would put adverts in The Lady looking for somebody to sit with us until he got home. There was one lady in particular called Jenny who was with us for a number of years and was very kind. So thanks to The Lady for that.
What is your most treasured possession?
In the event of a fire we would save the children and leave the rest.
What do you most dislike about your appearance?
I would like to look like an Olympic athlete. But if I’m unable to take myself down the gym, then it’s on me, isn’t it?
What trait do you most deplore in others?
People who shirk their responsibilities. We have a neighbour who, when our shared wall fell down, refused to pay his share. I found that unspeakable.
What is your favourite book?
A Prayer For Owen Meany by John Irving.
Your favourite film?
The Blues Brothers.
Your favourite music?
If I chose a desert island disc I would take the music from In The Hall Of The Mountain King, from Grieg’s Peer Gynt.
And your favourite meal?
It’s hard to go past fish and chips.
Who would you most like to come to dinner?
You would have to start with Jesus, and not just because he would be handy if you ran out of wine. Michelle Pfeiffer and Woody Allen – but in their best mood. I don’t want Jesus in the corner healing the sick and Woody Allen being an introvert. I’d also have Debbie Harry, circa 1978.
What is the nastiest thing anyone has ever said to you?
Since the internet and social networking sites, it’s jaw-dropping the things people will say.
Do you believe in aliens?
It seems impossible, considering the vastness of the universe, that it could only happen once – here.
What is your secret vice?
Cheddar. I don’t drink alcohol any more because it’s incompatible with two-year-olds bouncing on your head.
Do you write thank-you notes?
I don’t want any more gifts. The whole thing fills me with tension.
Which phrase do you most overuse?
‘Sorry, I’ve just farted.’
What would most improve the quality of your life?
More control over my wind... No, I’d like to have two lives: one for sleeping and reading books and another for working and having children.
Tell us something we don’t know about you.
I love watching my two-year-old do ballet. He’s the only boy in the group. He went along with his big sister and wanted to join in.
What would you like your epitaph to read?
‘Finally, a good night’s sleep.’
The Little Victories tour, 3 April to 13 December: 0844-844 0444, www.ticketmaster.co.uk