Tell us about your first drink

You don’t mean school milk, do you, which is a shame, as that’s quite a tale. Alright then, it was a glass of sherry when I was 17, and it burnt the roof of my mouth. I must have made a face, as the other venture scouts began laughing and slapping their thighs.

What’s the most expensive drink you’ve ever bought?

I once purchased a pina colada by accident – I thought it was a banana milkshake. (My neighbour and sole agent, Ken Worthington, was sipping one, you see, so I ordered the same). It was lovely though and put me into a reverie. I kept opening and closing the little paper umbrella and forgot all about the fact 
that I’d just spent £7 on a blinkin’ drink!

What about the most exotic?

Well, I think I’ve just answered that 
one, yer nana!

Any tips and remedies for a morning after a night of excess?

No, because I’ve only ever been drunk once, and that was through necessity. I needed to write a psychedelic song for a young indie band, and decided that the lyrics would be best if written under the influence of drugs. Alas, I have no access to drugs -– despite having worked with youngsters with drug-related problems – but my agent, Ken, suggested that if 
I downed a four-pack of Hofmeister 
lager (in one sitting), I would achieved the required state. I could only manage 
two and a half cans, but Ken was on 
hand to help me out. Boy, did we laugh that night. But in the morning, did we laugh? No, we didn’t, actually, and I 
don’t have any tips or remedies, 
except don’t do it in the first place!

You once wrote a song called 
‘Smells Like White Spirit’. Have 
you any other alcohol-inspired 
hits in the pipeline?

No, but I once wrote a song called 
‘Life is Like a Malibu Glass’. And another 
called ‘Red Wine and Hobnobs’, all 
about Ken being slovenly. He was 
sitting in his house in his underpants 
and vest on a sunny day watching Wimbledon while swigging wine 
and eating bikkies – disgraceful!

Following the incident with the shepherd’s pie, have you ever fought against your better instincts and gone back to savoury?

I’m ashamed to admit I did recently, 
as it happens, though only momentarily. After a main course of lasagne followed by a fromage frais and two sports biscuits (High Jump and Javelin, I think … I 
can’t remember now) I absentmindedly popped a slice of honeyroast ham in 
my mouth. Mind you, honey’s sweet, 
in’t it, so maybe I didn’t go back to savoury? Oof, I’m all confused now.

As one of Sheffield’s favourite sons, where would you recommend as the best place in the city to get a drink?

The drinking fountain in Endcliffe Park, near where the ducks are. Well, it used to be. I’ve not been for a while, so it might have been vandalised.

If you were a drink, what would you be, and why?

I’d be a cup of Horlicks or hot chocolate. Reassuring, dependable, uplifting even, though I’m not available in sachet form, so the likeness falls short by quite a way I’m afraid. Still – interesting, quirky question. Keep them coming

As a condemned man, awaiting your fate, what would your last drink be?

Oh, this is the last question then? Just when I was starting to enjoy myself! 
Ooh, I think I’d ask for two – a pina colada, to put me in a reverie and help me forget what’s coming, and then a Horlicks to help me sleep through the ordeal. Mind you, if I’m about to sleep forever perhaps I should stay awake 
and enjoy my last few minutes? So 
scrap that order. Make it a stiff JD over lots of rocks! Would that be advisable, 
do you think?

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