I HAD a dream.

No this isn’t Martin Luther King, it is I Billy Nomates.

In one of my visits to dreamland, I was starring with Liz Taylor in the best movie she ever appeared.

I played Fred Flintstone. She played Pearl Slaghoople. Fred was a typical guy who worked hard and enjoyed a modest lifestyle in his humble home with Wilma and the kids.

He Wilma and Pearl will last forever because in cartoons you can, but alas Liz went for a Burton a while ago.

Rumour has it she was born at a party in Hartford. London claimed her, but where was the first place we saw the TV people paying ‘tribute’?

Not high class Hartford, not Hollywood, but outside her ‘humble’ home, where she grew up.

It is often the case that ‘stars’ are never happy until they prove how poor they were. ‘Ee by gum, we were so poor we had no shoes’ only to be outdone by the next one, ‘we were so poor we had no feet’.

I know a guy who claims he was so poor he had no father. You just have to listen to my brother, a piano player. ‘We were so poor our piano had no keys and strings, only legs’. No brother, that piano was a table.

A start in life, as poor as a church mouse, is a status symbol. Having been a poor immigrant who arrived with not even a clean hankie and working one’s self up to create a business employing thousands is the stuff that the tabloids are made of. Alas coming here with nothing, and doing nothing but claiming benefits is also the stuff the tabloids are made of.

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