I am enjoying the pace of life in the (sort of) countryside in Harpenden. I got some sleep today and did over an hour in the gym and didn't have to drive 250 miles and I felt pretty good. But there was a slight jolt for the Londoner inside me when I tried to go to Smiths at 4.45pm to find it had shut at 4, as had pretty much all the high street shops. What a ludicrous place where you can't buy anything you need on a late Sunday afternoon. Suddenly the fried chicken strewn streets of Shepherd's Bush looked appealing.
But with the endorphins from the exercise racing around my body, plus the relatively relaxing week, I felt like a new and younger man. Though my younger self was disappointed with me because it took me ages to even register that today was April Fool's Day and even when I did I had no compunction to play a trick. The young Richard Herring would never have guessed that he would become so jaded that this best and funniest day of the year could be ignored. And much as he tried to persuade me to reveal to my fiancee that the whole wedding idea was just a massive April Fool - albeit an expensive one that has taken a lot of organisation - I refused to do that. Mainly because I've realised it's funnier to do practical jokes when people aren't expecting them and the time to reveal this practical joke is at the altar (or whatever the registry office equivalent is) just as the vicar (or whatever the registry office equivalent it) asks me if I will take my fiancee to be my wife and I say, "No, I was only kidding. Tricked you all!" Oh how my fiancee and her family and my family will laugh at my antics. Can't wait.
Or maybe the better joke will to be go through with it all, stay married for 50 years and then on my death bed say, "Ha ha, I was only joking. I didn't love you at all." What a wheeze. The slow builders are always the best.
Even though we intended to keep the wedding simple it has inevitably ended up costing us a fair amount of money. In bed tonight I discussed the guest list with my fiancee and realised that maybe we'd missed a trick. We could have charged a few of my more obsessive fans to come along and celebrate the marriage. I reckon there's at least a dozen of you who would shell out a few hundred quid for that. It's not as tacky as being in Hello, but it could be quite lucrative, as long as we didn't mind a table of smelly, bearded misfits sitting at the back (though they would be indistinguishable from my in-laws - ha ha, I am funny - notice how I resisted saying "and that's just the women"). It's too late for us to sort this out, but if any other minor celebrities feel like prostituting out the most meaningful day of their lives then you might want to consider this idea. It offends and demeans both the love of the couple and the people paying to be spectators. Though still is less tacky and insulting than inviting a magazine along to the big day.
My fiancee thought it was a bad idea, but if any of you have a grand or two knocking about and are prepared to pretend to be my long lost cousin I am happy to have you along. She need never know. Just like she'll never find out about my deathbed confession (I could sell tickets to that too). Wait until she hears of my plan to put the wedding video on as a DVD extra. Who needs April Fool's Day when you're Mrs Herring. Every day will be a laugh riot of fun.
The Radio 4 appeal for SCOPE which I fronted was broadcast today. You can
listen to it here and there are also the links and numbers you need to donate if you feel so inclined.
