Okay, folks, a very big hello to you once again. You are listening to Planet Porky. I'm on Planet Porky, and I have to say the other more glamorous than me, resident, Planet Porky, rock chic, extraordinary. Leslie Ann Jones. Leslie Ann, how's life treating you?

Oh, not bad, Michael. Thank you. You're too kind.

Well, that's very kind of you. As this podcast comes out, we are literally one day away from pub opening, but we don't dwell on that again.

We've said enough about that already. I just want to tell everybody, please adhere to my mantra, which is bladdo in

motto. That means bladeration in moderation. If you go for a drink tomorrow, good luck to you.

I may shy away from that until maybe Sunday or Monday, but let's hope it all goes well.

Now, Leslie Ann, we're going to start off with a fantastic story this morning, a frisson of absolute delight when I pointed out to you the other morning that one of the, or I put a tweet out to celebrate her birthday, one of the, in my view, most glamorous singers of my lifetime, Debbie Harry, a woman so beautiful, they named

the group after a blondeie, and somebody with whom you have had quite an interesting association.

Well, yeah, I have, because not only did I work with her at Chrysalis Records when I was on the

staff there years ago, back in the 80s. But then when I

became a journalist, I interviewed her a few times and one sort of memorable occasion when I

spent three days with her in New York for an exclusive spread for the Daily Mail. And we painted

the town red and purple and green and every other colour you can imagine.

Yeah.

Did you go anywhere I might have gone in those days, you know, all the chic restaurants, bars, all that kind of stuff?

No, no, Debbie wasn't about chic.

She was about New Wave and Underground.

Oh, right.

Sort of sleazy.

She liked the basement clubs, you know, the sweaty little dives.

Oh, not for me.

Yeah.

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