Stars don't dazzle me

THEY call it the celebrity game, though there are no known rules.

Mike Tyson is the latest privileged player. He wouldn't be fighting in Manchester had he been plain Harry Bloggins.

Instead he was allowed to slip through the immigration net as a celebrity rapist rather than just a nasty piece of work.

Number 10 was supposed to be behind the decision. The spin doctors know the British worship celebrities, which is why newspapers, magazines and television devote large chunks of space to their vapid lives.

Take David Beckham and Posh Spice, reigning king and queen of the so-called beautiful people. They've just spent £2,000 on a custom-built Vuitton bag to wrap round baby Brooklyn's bottle.

They certainly know how to play the game. Hello! or OK! magazine are not going to shell out £500,000 for pictures of people who buy bottle bags in Boots.

God knows where this cult of celebrity comes from. We usually blame Hollywood, but the Americans aren't all that fond of hero-worship and no other nation takes it to the lengths we do.

Where else would you see a bunch of simpering, self-satisfied "stars" like Nigel Havers, Patsy Palmer and the rest falling about with glee as they interview their own kind on TV.

It baffles me to be classed as a celebrity rather than just another working stiff.

I can't cross the road without someone telling me who I am, though in my time I've been mistaken for Max Bygraves, Doctor Who and the late Rod Hull.

I wondered what it was all about on joining several hundred guests taking part in the Night Of A Thousand Lives on BBC1 to celebrate 1,000 editions of This Is Your Life over the past 45 years. As usual, the celebrities got all the attention.

Standing in the wings were many deserving people, heroes and heroines all, whose claim to fame must have been far greater than the likes of us.

What tickled me most was hearing how the researchers had pursued my old mum Elsie to share her son's moment of glory and take part in the show.

They offered her the usual chauffeur-driven car, West End hotel and big party - the works.

"No, thanks very much," she said. "We never go out at night."

Like Elsie, not everyone wants to play the celebrity game.

I found a website the other day called Slap-a-Celeb, inviting us to get our own

back on "those really annoying celebs who think it's their right

to broadcast pictures of themselves on

our cathode ray tubes."

Net users are invited to see how many times in 30 seconds they can employ the mouse to slap Vanessa Feltz and Noel Edmonds.

I failed miserably, thank goodness, it could be my turn next.

Royal store wars will hit Fayed

AMERICANS think the Queen puts on her coat and nips down to Harrods for the royal shopping so don't be fooled by the store's boss, Mohamed Al Fayed, trying to shrug off withdrawal of the Duke of Edinburgh's royal warrant.

It is going to hit him hard. Shorn of the royal image, our transatlantic cousins are likely to do their shopping elsewhere.

Visiting the US over the holiday, we found the gifts our relatives appreciated most were such modest offerings as Harrods shopping bags and pens.

"Wow! That's where the Queen shops," say Americans as they spot the store's green and gold label. Harrods runs adverts in American papers, and they all want to visit the store on a trip to Britain.

Officially, the Duke has severed links with Harrods after 40 years because he no longer buys goods there but the real reason must be Al Fayed's outrageous accusation that the death of Princess Diana and his son Dodi was engineered by the Queen's husband.

The Queen and the Prince of Wales are expected to order removal of their crests from Harrods later in the year.

Try the Co-op next time, Ma'am.

It's just a crying shame

MATRONLY Margaret Pracy of Kemp Town dons 16th-Century costume and tolls her bell as town crier of Brighton and Hove, but it is obvious our political masters want nothing to do with her.

Margaret, 51, tells me she was treated rudely at the millennium celebrations. "They told me to push off," she said.

The Guild of Town Criers officiated at my wedding and made me an honorary member of the ancient order - thanks to my foghorn voice - so I would like to know why Margaret is left crying in the dark.

Could it be the fault of Chris Eubank? He named Margaret town crier in his role as self-appointed Lord of the Manor.

You're skirting the issue, Mick

JERRY Hall seems to be sticking to her pledge not to take back Mick Jagger, though she remains on amicable terms since they have four children.

Friends say she can't forgive him for claiming their Bali wedding was fake.

There's something pathetic about a perpetual skirt-chaser trying to make amends and grow up. Michael Douglas had the same problem, though no doubt Catherine Zeta Jones will have cured him by now.

Jerry and Mick are reported to be receiving counselling from a trendy rabbi teaching Kabbalah, an ancient Jewish philosophy that embraces pure thoughts and clean living.

Both are wearing the Kabbalah symbol of a red string bracelet meant to protect them from evil.

Mick should have stayed faithful to a far more powerful symbol.

It's called a wedding ring.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.