Springtime Thoughts...

Spring is in the air, the leaves are bursting onto the trees, the little lambs are gambolling about the fields (mint sauce!), there's a riot of colour and new life all around, and a young woman's fancy turns to thoughts of love...or rather a young woman's love turns to thoughts of fancy!

And who tickles my fancy amongst the Prisoner pantheon? Well, contrary to a great and grossly unfair misconception by the uninitiated that everyone in Prisoner fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down (it's like the wobbly wall myth, only *some* of the walls wobbled *occasionally* but that's as far as I'm going with that comparison...ahem!) there was actually an embarrassment of riches in terms of eye candy of both the male and female variety, depending on what floats your boat!

Dear me, all that effort they put into producing a serious gritty drama and all some shallow souls can do is admire the window dressing! *sigh!* Sorry Grundys and everyone involved!

There are quite a few chaps who catch my eye during the course of the series (worth a special mention at this stage would be dishy Dr Greg Miller - definitely the right prescription!), but there's one man who stands head and shoulders above them all for me, just as Prisoner stands head and shoulders above all other TV shows in my heart (aah!)...one man who had more mojo than Austin Powers...one man who was blessed in every way it was possible to be blessed...

What a way he had with the ladies (and rightly so!) as he smoothed his way through his time in the show as love interest to that succession of sophisticates that seemed to people that embryonic year of Prisoner! Well, there were only three that he actually made a play for - Jean Vernon, Karen Travers and that lawyer woman old flame (the Jezebel!) that he eventually went off into the sunset with, breaking my heart as he did so! I've told myself a million times not to exaggerate!

In saying that, he did have more substance to him as a character than simply eye (and ear!) candy for Lily to drool over some 30 years later, in that paradox he wrestled within himself over his self-denial that he had any kind of social conscience, set against his hunger for success, born out of his impoverished start in life. As so many of the characters were in those early days of Prisoner, and indeed throughout the series for that matter, he was so well-drawn and realised.

Have you guessed who it is yet? It's like that "Who am I?" riddle from that cheesy old gameshow Going For Gold! Where's Henry Kelly when you need him?! "Sorry Olaf from Norway, you're not going through to the next round because you didn't know who was UK Christmas number one in the charts in 1982, you fool!" Hurrah for a united Europe! Anyway, I digress...just for a change! The object of my affection for this blog is the walking talking wonder that is *be still my beating heart!* Steve Wilson!

It must be something about the name Steve actually because I wouldn't kick Messrs Fawkner or Ryan from later on in the show out of bed either! Incidentally, and veering my train of thought off track again, we were once having a crazy conversation in work one day where I opined that I wouldn't kick Action Man out of bed, and one of the guys remarked, "Well, you couldn't kick him out of bed, because he'd break both your legs, what with his Commando skills!"

Anyway, back to my Prisoner Action Man, Steve Wilson... What is it about him? What is it not about him?! The smile, the hair, the voice...AND he can act, which is always a plus, although not essential in these matters!

Speaking of the voice, I did a survey in the office, running around with my little portable DVD player urging, "Regardez...et ecoutez! No, really!" and 9 out of 10 women overcame their initial raised eyebrows and melted on the spot at the sound of those mellifluous tones! It really is like hot chocolate for the ears! Actually, there is apparently scientific grounding as to why women are generally attracted to men with deep voices if this article is to be believed! Well, if the Daily Mail says it, then it must be true of course!

And so, appreciating my admiration of the wonderful Mr Wilson, one my friends at work asked me the $64,000 question, who would I choose between Johnny Depp and Steve Wilson? Well, it was a no brainer!

As I said, if Johnny Depp from today and Jim Smilie from 1979 were to walk in right now and pledge their undying affection for me, I'd say, "Johnny Depp, Hollywood megastar you may be, but talk to the hand, because the face don't wanna listen! Yer bum's oot the windae, as we say in my parts (English translation: Sorry old bean, I'm afraid you have no chance!), so stop pestering me, and anyway, I haven't been able to look at a meat pie since going to see Sweeney Todd, thanks to you! I'm off for a Cinzano and a sausage on a stick (matron!) with smiley smiley Mr Smilie to spin some Demis Roussos on the music centre! (Not the real Demis Roussos of course, he'd break it! The vinyl version!)" How very Abigail's Party of me!

And on that note...I think I'll leave you in peace for another bitty! One of these days I might actually be able to think of something sensible to say in this blog! Well, you can live in hope, if you die in despair!