
Letter from the Queen

Letter from the Queen
November 2009 has certainly been an interesting month, so far, and we are only 22 days in! It began with a celebration of Christian Volquartz’ and Roseanne Barr’s birthdays on 3rd. We lunched with Christian, then were all invited to Roseanne’s home in the evening for a small family celebration. As it is within walking distance, Ruth, Martin and Christian all toddled off early evening, whilst I was taking a nap after a celebratory lunch. I was not too long into the land of nod when the phone rang, and it was the revellers insisting that I join them. Being too flaming old and feisty to get showered and dressed, I rattled round there in my jammies, slippers, robe, and for a touch of class, added a tiara. The party was in full swing, and I was delighted to see another of my heroes, Phyllis Diller holding court. I confessed to her that I had been stealing one of her gags for years, and reminded her of it: “You can tell when you’re getting old, your liver spots show through your gloves.” This elicited her delightful, distinctive laugh, and a request for another Martini. We danced, we sang, we caroused, until the wee small hours.
The following week saw me at the Department of Motor Vehicles in Santa Monica to re-sit for my driver license, as mine was about to expire on my 8Oth birthday, 14th November. Fortunately, I passed with flying colours, and now have the right to drive through the next five years. Look out Los Angeles! Phew, what a relief.
A grand soiree was held at our house on the evening of the 14th, and thanks to the stealth organization of Ruth and Martin, I had 80 guests, many of whom I hadn’t seen for years. Paul Antonelli, together with Paul Adent, flew in from New York. Lora Colvard flew in from Nashville, my old boss and dear friend, Kim Cooper (whom I worked for at Fox on Earth Girls are Easy a hundred years ago), and Tenny, our office buddies, Christian Volquartz, Jessica Chrysler, Jeremy Dolan and his pretty wife Wendy, and a cast of what seemed like thousands. Tim and Donny (on whom I performed a wedding ceremony last year) arrived with 80 cupcakes, which Donny had made and sprinkled with gold, yes, real edible gold, and pearls. Sadly, we are learning that several people didn’t receive Ruth’s E-Vite due to some technical glitch, otherwise the crowd would have been even larger. Musician extraordinaire Preston Smith also made it, and he is going to be performing at the upcoming LA Virgin Christmas Party in December, which should be another event to remember. Another old friend, Lyle Gregory turned up in the wee small hours after a Political Fund Raiser for Al Gore. It was such a great gathering of old and not quite so old friends.
There were also tons of emails, JibJab electronic greeting cards, phone calls from around the world. Martin’s Mother called from The Canary Isles, Bill Bratton and Rikki Klieman called me from their new domicile in New York, cards, flowers, bottles of wine, and some beautiful gifts.
In response to people’s questions about what to bring as a gift, Ruth had told them that a $1 Lottery ticket was the entrance fee, plus some good quality used clothing for dear John Burnes to take to less fortunate folks at St. Monica’s Church in Santa Monica. We took in a mountain of goodies, which John is picking up tomorrow, 23rd, in time for the annual Thanksgiving Dinner which the Church throws, that being this coming Thursday, 26th November. Roseanne and Johnny came too, and Becky and Bill Pentland, so a really great time was had by all. By the way, I turned in my Lottery tickets today and came away with $123 and several more free tickets. I was also delighted to receive some Amazon Gift Vouchers and am going to buy a video iPod and a camera with those, thank you to my sister Joan & family in England, Kim Cooper & Tenny, Nico Bolas in Nashville, and Lisa Derketch in Tampa, Florida.
Martin had prepared a wonderful video tribute to me, a retrospective of some of the more printable m0ments in my life from 1929. Ruth had polled friends and family all around the world to send a video clip, and the gag was that they should pretend it was my funeral, and say what nice (or not so nice) things about me on the occasion celebrating my life, after I popped my clogs. This resulted in some hilarious messages and video clips which I have watched over and over, and was horrified to find that one friend misunderstand, and thought I had really left this mortal coil. He sent Ruth a Condolence message. Oops! Sorry dear boy. One video from Pat Healy, Kevin Ging and Adam Pockross, had to be edited to a PG version to show our guests, lest we offend anyone. It was, to say the least, a trifle naughty.
If you would like to check them out, go to: http://www.youtube.com/angieturns80.
Then, during my regular weekly radio show with Pete Price at www.citytalk.fm on Tuesday 17th, he too surprised me with a piece he and Ruth had recorded the previous week, when he had done a show about people who influenced one’s life. My darling girl had so many nice things to say about me, it brought tears to my eyes. When she found me having a quiet little weep, she dug up one of my late husband, Jim McCartney’s remarks: “stop crying girl, your bladder’s too near your eyes.” Pete had evidently been trying really hard to get here and surprise me, but due to his work and Panto commitments wasn’t able to, but he posted a lovely tribute on the YouTube Channel.
Then, as if this wasn’t enough, on Wednesday 18th, we were invited on the Virgin America inaugural Go Golden flight from LAX to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, which took off at 7:45 a.m., and were royally entertained by Sir Richard Branson’s delightful staff and film crew, make up artists, and a myriad of goodies, food and beverages. The invitation told us to wear gold, and we did!! Ruth and I wore lots of bling, and Martin (normally rather conservative in public), was resplendent in enormous gold Elvis glasses and dollops of gold mardi gras beads. As we stepped off the plane on to the red carpet in Ft. Lauderdale, we were greeted with lots of greetings and photo ops. I felt like a real movie star instead of an old bird of 80 plus. Richard Branson was atop a fire truck and hosed down the two flights, one from LA and one from San Francisco, which were coordinated to arrive on the tarmac within minutes, and finished up nose to nose. Ruth was more than busy with her cameras and took some terrific photos which we will send out in a newsletter shortly.
From that party, we were transported to the newly opened magnificent W Hotel, where we were treated wonderfully and prepared for the evening party. This was held around one of the Hotel’s swimming pools, with music, dancing, many gorgeous girls and guys circulating with food and drinks, and were plied with cocktails such as Karma California Brut, (my favourite), Patron Silver Tequila, and Veev. Heineken were also sponsors, and all were most generous in their contribution to both the flight and the party. We were treated to synchronized swimmers in gold costumes and turbans, go go dancers in gold costumes, and most people at the party were sporting something gold.
There was a promotion of Lip Gloss from Dondrae Andolini, National Makeup Artist for Bare Escentuals, and as the evening wore on, and the cocktails flowed, Martin, who was by this time being called Elvis, somehow got in the middle of it all, and as someone else had said he looked like Swifty Lazar (whom some of my more mature readers will remember from the old Hollywood showbiz days as a major Talent Agent who always wore huge glasses), so by the time the party was beginning to wind down, he was known as “Swifty Lipz.” Martin, (courtesy of Patron), was by then trying to persuade me to develop a line of lip gloss flavoured organic teas – it seemed to make perfect sense to him! Imagine trying to sell English Breakfast flavoured lip gloss. Ah, that Marty, he doesn’t usually drink, but after a couple of cocktails he is prepared to rule the world.
We were then joined by some of the cast of Hairspray, who were appearing on the new World’s Largest Cruise Ship, Oasis of the Sea which had docked nearby. Their lead guy and choreographer, Michael promptly offered his services, teaching several of us various dance moves. By this time, my tiara was decidedly the worse for wear, as was I! Ruth kept up with him somewhat better, and did the splits in (or was it on?) the bar! He was very insistent that we all go back with him to the ship, but we felt this might not be wise, as we didn’t have our Passports with us, and they were due to sail early in the morning. Good decision, as it turned out, as when I woke up and looked over my balcony next morning, I saw it sailing out of sight. We took in some sights and sunshine through the day with Bill Miller, the Virgin Concierge from LAX who had taken care of us from the cradle to the grave. Our return flight was a little more sedate, as most people needed a little rest after that 2 day stint.
We got back into LAX just before midnight on Thursday 19th, reeling at all that had happened to us in that short space of time, and reflecting on how many wonderful people we had met. Thank you Sir Richard. You can take the rest of the month off now!!
Just when you thought it was safe to get back into a working routine, the preparations for Donny Dale’s 50th party began, and our usual neighbourhood party posse got back into full swing, and exchanges of food, beverages, garden furniture etc. began. The party took place last night, 21st November, and was a howling success, with lots of fun people there. Today is another Sunday of recycling, putting things back where they belong, massages, and a promise of an early night in bed tonight.
And of course, we are looking forward to Thanksgiving Day on Thursday, which we will spend quietly at home with a few friends. Chef Ruth is already planning the menu. Oh, will this fun month never end… Not that I am complaining. I seem to be having the time of my life since I turned 80 – it’s so much fun, I might stay for another 80 years! (Groans from son-in-law Martin!!). Just kidding dear boy. But I am so grateful to he and Ruth for planning all of this, it has given me so many more flowers to add to my garden of wonderful memories.
I recently spent a fun filled few days at The Ingleside Inn in Palm Springs, where Martin directed a pilot for a TV show called Early Bird Special. It was the brainchild of Richard Hartley Hammond and revolves around the social life of his Mum, Dorothy Bamber, and a few of her compatriots who are looking for love again, plus a few mature guys who are looking for some fun.
It was very loosely scripted, each cast member was just encouraged to “do their thing” and I was the exception to the rule, as I certainly don’t want to take on another husband or significant other. If you want to take a look, you can find us at www.youtube.com/mccartneystudios. Once there, if you scroll down, you will find other examples of our work, and if you scroll far enough, you will see Ruth with Pete Price, our Liverpool buddy who filmed a segment in our house a while back.
Mel Haber and his excellent band of little helpers took great care of us at The Ingleside Inn, and nobody wanted it to end. But hopefully, if it gets picked up, there will be plenty more where that came from.
Our dear friends Ric (Hollywood ) Wetzel and Kim Ludwig provided the voice overs, and Peter Trunk, our German cameraman worked on the edit with Martin. Of course, the fabulous music in there from the likes of Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra etc. will have to be replaced after we have pitched it, as the license fees for such music would be bigger than the national debt!
Ruth ably Produced the whole shebang, and I can tell you it was quite a job for her to wrangle all the right people at the right times etc. But all in all, a very enjoyable project.
As my goal is to donate a percentage of the profits from Mrs. McCartney’s Teas to the Linda McCartney Centre, and although we have not yet turned to profit, I sent a donation to the Centre from my personal bank. I was very pleased to receive a very courteous response from Tim Southern, who is the Director of Fundraising for this worthy cause.
I look forward to being able to forge ahead with donations as soon as the tea gets seriously off the ground. My team of little helpers and I are working tirelessly towards reaching this goal. Anyone who reads this and who has a penny or two to donate, please go to the website: www.yourcentre.org and follow their instructions.

Letter from the Linda McCartney Centre
I just began re-reading Brain Droppings by the late George Carlin, and I was reminded of the time when I answered the phone at Australian American Public Relations in Downtown Los Angeles, where I was working for Claudia Keech, who now runs the very successful MotherInc.com online publication in her native land of Oz.
The voice on the phone said: My name is George Carlin, and I am a comedian. I was flabbergasted, and quickly corrected him, saying, “No, you are THE comedian.” He was very flattered. It turned out that he was planning to book some appearances Down Under and had found us through Yellow Pages. He was looking for informaton on Aussie comedians so he could research their brand of humour etc. I was able to tell him about one or two that I had personally experienced, like Norman Gunstone and Kevin Bloody Wilson. He was very grateful, and gave me his private number so that I could feed him more information and funnies as they came to mind. I used to call his machine and leave him jokes and observations, and felt very honoured to do so. For me, he was one of the beacons of observational humour, and he will never be replaced. Brain Droppings was published in 1997 and here we are, 12 years later, and it is still as funny as ever.
I had the privilege to be friends with Tommy Cannon and Bobby Ball, England’s most famous comedy duo in the late 70′s. I have been looking them up on YouTube and finding the most hilarious evidence of their comedic genius. I invite you all to take a look at some of their finest moments captured from YouTube with artists such as Adam Ant, Cliff Richard, Shirley Williams and many others. This is magic that you can’t buy. They epitomize variety theatre and sketch comedy. And no matter what the plot, they always finish up together. Their most poignant moment is when Tommy carries Tommy offstage over his shoulder singing “He Aint Heavy, He’s my Brother.” It will bring a tear to your eyes.
This touching message was sent to me by my nephew John Butchard from Australia.
I guarantee you will remember the tale of the Wooden Bowl tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now.
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson. The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather’s shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. ’We must do something about father,’ said the son. ’I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.’
So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. When the family glanced in Grandfather’s direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, ‘What are you making?’ Just as sweetly, the boy responded, ’Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up. ’ The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took Grandfather’s hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
On a positive note, I’ve learned that, no matter what happens, how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles four things: a rainy day, the elderly, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I’ve learned that, regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life. I’ve learned that making a ‘living’ is not the same thing as making a ‘life.’ I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back I’ve learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you But, if you focus on your family, your friends, the needs of others, your work and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.
I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one. I’ve learned that every day, you should reach out and touch someone. People love that human touch — holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn. I’ve learned that you should pass this on to everyone you care about. I just did.
This is to all of you who mean something to me, I pray for your happiness. The Candle Of Love, Hope & Friendship This candle was lit on the 15th of September, 1998 Someone who loves you has helped keep it alive by sending it to you. Don’t let The Candle of Love, Hope and Friendship die
As a kid at St. Teresa’s School in Norris Green in Liverpool, we would regularly be addressed by Father Murphy for religious knowledge.
I vividly recall a day when he addressed the class, and asked “does anyone have any questions?”
I gingerly raised my hand and asked: “Father, if Adam and Eve only had two sons, where did the rest of the babies in the world come from?” He narrowed his eyes and hissed at me: “Sit down child, and don’t try to run before you can walk.”
I felt that I had done something shameful, and bore the scar of that incident for a long, long time. And do you know, I STILL don’t know the answer for sure!
My Mum was as feisty as they come. Before I was born, there was an incident when it was their wedding anniversary. Dad was a Sergeant Major in the British Army, an instructor in the use of mustard gases in World War I. Stationed in Otley, Yorkshire, Mum lived off base in a rented house belonging to a Mrs. Burnell. My oldest sister, Mae, was a baby, and as their Wedding Anniversary was coming up, Dad asked Mum to organize a baby sitter, and he would take her out to dinner. That was a big deal in those days.
So, Mrs. Burnell came in to sit with Mae, Mum got all gussied up, ready for her big night out. Nine o’clock came, then ten o’clock, and as Mum’s hopes dropped, and her embarrassment grew, she and Mrs. Burnell sat in the two armchairs each side of the fireplace. Eventually, they heard the sound of the key trying to find the lock. Eventually, Dad staggered in, very happy, completely oblivious of the fact that he had broken his promise, said good night and proceeded to bed.
Mum got his cold water razor, and shaved off just one half of his Sargeant Major waxed moustache as he slept.
Next morning she awoke to the sound of shaving in the bathroom. He removed the other half, took a cup of tea to Mum in bed, kissed her goodbye, never mentioned the incident, and went off to war for another day. She remembers him having a very pale upper lip, compared to the rest of his ruddy complexion.
From that day until the day that he died, he never mentioned it. Neither did Mum.
When I was about 12 I found a Brazilian pen pal from a magazine. Her name was Marie Alice Mencarini and she lived in Sao Paolo.
It seemed very exotic to me to be corresponding with someone so far away. Heaven only knows what drivel I must have written to her, probably about my adventures in the air raid shelters, etc., or some other aspect of my fairly non-eventful life.
However, I remember telling her that I suffered from asthma, and she sent me a bottle of something called Vapo Cresoline, which my Mum used to burn on a shovel of hot coals from the fireplace. It would emit fumes that miraculously cleared my clogged bronchial tubes, at the same time filling the room with black smoke. I wonder what a danger to the environment that was? But I was eternally grateful for the relief.
But I will forever remember the kindness of someone whom I had never met, and if she ever reads this, she can be assured that she helped me immeasurably.
Being British is about driving in a German car to an Irish pub for a Belgian beer, then travelling home, grabbing an Indian curry or a Turkish Kebab on the way, to sit on Swedish furniture and watch American shows on a Japanese TV.
And the most British thing of all? Suspicion of anything foreign.
Oh and…… Only in Britain … Can a pizza get to your house faster than an ambulance.
Only in Britain … Do supermarkets make sick people walk all the way to the back of the shop to get their prescriptions While healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.
Only in Britain .. Do People order double cheeseburgers, large fries and a DIET coke.
Only in Britain … Do banks leave both doors open and chain the pens to the counters.
Only in Britain .. Do we leave cars worth thousands of pounds on the driveway and lock our junk and cheap lawn mower in the garage.
Only in Britain … Do we use answering machines to screen calls and then have Call Waiting so we won’t miss a call from someone we didn’t want to talk to in the first place.
Only in Britain … Are there disabled parking places in front of a skating rink.
NOT TO MENTION…
3 Brits die each year testing if a 9v battery works on their tongue.
142 Brits were injured in 1999 by not removing all pins from new shirts.
58 Brits are injured each year by using sharp knives instead of
screwdrivers.
watering their Christmas tree while
the fairy lights were plugged in.
19 Brits have died in the last 3 years believing that Christmas decorations were chocolate.
British Hospitals reported 4 broken arms last year after cracker pulling accidents.
101 people since 1999 have had broken parts of plastic toys pulled out of the soles of their feet.
18 Brits had serious burns in 2000 trying on a new jumper with a lit cigarette in their mouth.
A massive 543 Brits were admitted to Emergency in the last two years after opening bottles of beer with their teeth.
5 Brits were injured last year in cccidents involving out of Control Scalextric cars.
And finally………
In 2000 eight Brits cracked their skull whilst throwing up into the toilet.
You’ve got to luv ‘em!