Firefighter Burns gets dizzy

ANYONE wanting to climb the ladder of promotion at the fire service needs a good head for heights. So pity the poor York firefighter who is off work with... vertigo!

What's more, the woman concerned is otherwise eminently suited to the job - right down to her name.

Firefighter Annette Burns is a member of Green Watch at Acomb fire station.

You might know Firefighter Burns - she's the one with the crazy hair-do in the Slug and Lettuce on a Friday night - just don't mention pipe cleaners!

"People never believe me when I tell them I'm a firefighter, especially when I tell them my name - they thinks it's a wind-up," she reveals.

But her dizziness up ladders could make life decidedly dodgy, Annette admits.

Turpin has encountered other amusing coincidences of people with names to match their jobs. Malton police have their own Sgt Pounder, the maintenance man at Flamingo Land is Ron Handy and there's York's famous chef and food writer Jenny Cook.

Some other names which have appeared in the Evening Press are Army spokesman Lieutenant Colonel Gary Coward; operating theatre nurse Gillian Cutting; wind turbine engineer Philip Breeze and charity fundraiser Jonathan Knocker.

SO what's in a name? Could be millions of dollars. If, that is, you take the gloomy view of a mistake made at a glittering reception in York on the eve of the launch of the £60 million Designer Outlet Village on the former Naburn Hospital site.

One smartly-dressed guy at the reception in the swish Middlethorpe Hall was none other than William Sheldon, sorry Shelden, a major investor in McArthurGlen outlet projects throughout Europe. He flew in from Connecticut, US, to celebrate York's opening.

There was a look of annoyance on his face and he was muttering about the name tag on his lapel. "All this wouldn't have been possible without my money - yet they spell my name wrong," he lamented.

MEANWHILE, streakers who upstaged the grand opening of York's designer outlet aroused more than mere controversy. The stunt, which shocked some of the city's most upstanding dignitaries, was a source of much mirth among VIPs. Rumour has it that during the subsequent luncheon, one of the distinguished guests was heard to remark about the male streaker: "I was going to suggest Viagra, but it didn't look as if he needed it."

The eventful opening ceremony was well received by all. It is understood that the Chief Executive of the City of York Council, David Clark, enjoyed himself so much he asked if it could become a weekly fixture...

SHOWBIZ gossip over the years has it that Spanish crooner Julio Iglesias has been a very busy man in the lady department.

He has hotly denied that he has made love to several thousand women in his life time - and now Turpin can defend this Latin superman with undeniable proof that he just could not have found the time.

A press release landed at our Walmgate bunker to promote Julio's latest CD, My Life: The Greatest Hits. That publicity excitedly claims that Julio has recorded over 70 million albums in the past three decades achieving worldwide sales exceeding 200 million. If that were true, the handsome swine would have recorded 2.3 million albums a year, 44,871 per week, 6,410 every day and 267 each hour - without any sleep.

If each album contained only 12 songs, that means he would have had to record 53 songs every minute of every day. Unless someone has made an error and they mean he has recorded 70 albums in 30 years. In which case perhaps he did have time for all those beauties.

STILL with showbiz, staff at the York Barbican were determined to make the most of packed houses for Van Morrison and Tom Jones.

After each Van gig, concert-goers were given leaflets advertising The Stranglers' forthcoming performance.

But Tom Jones' fans are clearly thought to be, ahem, a more mature lot. They got flyers for a Frank Sinatra tribute concert.

Well, Tom, you are a granddad. And in the words of one of Ol' Blue Eyes hits, That's Life...

IT seems moggies blamed for leaving rubbish strewn across the back alleys of the Mount after nibbling their way through plastic bin bags (Evening Press, November 11) could be taking the blame for the actions of a phantom bin ripper.

The poor creatures are having their names blackened by the strange behaviour of a mysterious man who creeps through the darkness to tear the bags and search through the cast-offs of homes in the Scarcroft Hill area, according to residents.

Nobody knows what he's looking for.

Some say he searches for cans, bottles and newspapers to recycle. Others report he looks for tasty tit-bits cast off from the dinner tables of the street.

Others think it's just a peculiar nosiness for what the people of the area throw out.

The mystery still hasn't been solved, despite the attempts by some to follow this man and find out where he goes.

And apparently he is not alone.

A man from Curzon Street, in South Bank, reports that he and his neighbours have spotted a woman creeping through the alleys and leaving her distinctive mark of ripped plastic and piles of rubbish. Apparently she has a penchant for sweet corn left uneaten by householders. So next time you walk through spilt rubbish in your back alley, don't be quick to blame the nearest cat. The phantom may have struck again.

THOUGHTFUL bosses at a family planning clinic in York provide a TV in the waiting area to calm the nerves of their clients.

While they wait, jittery teenage girls can take their minds off the awful mistakes of the night before with a helping of brain-numbing daytime TV.

But the diversionary tactic seemed a little inappropriate last Thursday, when beaming down from the screen was the face of talk-show host Jerry Springer, whose discussion subject of the day was titled: "Pregnant and dumped."

14/11/98

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