You have to be of a certain age to remember ‘Jim’ll Fix It’, a slightly creepy programme where an ageing DJ in a white shellsuit had loads of kids sitting on his knee, while puffing on a fat Havanna cigar. And Jim specialised in making their dreams come true. Mmmm. Not sure that’s going to work in the modern era?
Anyway, the point was that Jim would organise for things to happen. He’d read out a letter and, hey presto, some child’s ambition would happen. Sometimes it was big stuff that only Jim could organise, like a ride in an F1 car, or to take part in a West End show. Or to have Showaddywaddy playing in your school assembly. Fair doos. That’s proper telly. And Jim always fixed it for you and you and you-oo-oooo.
But I remember one of Jim’s ‘fix-its’ that was even more uncomfortable than usual...
