Jeremy Vine

And it's a song about my dad.

And he died five years ago, she said.

But people always say he'd be very proud of you.

And I've never, ever been able to say for now.

Yes, he would.

But tonight, looking at your sold out gig in Islington, I can say my dad would be proud.

And I found that so moving.

I thought that's, she's performing for her dad who's dead.

Maybe I'm, yeah, I'm holding this gimlet and I'm thinking of my dad and it's the way, like you say, they're still with us.

Oh, my dad was very, I think, quite eccentric.

When he died, there was a lovely memorial service and loads of people came.

And there were stories about him that made me think about him differently.

So, for example, his colleague, Dave Clark, who was a fellow lecturer, said that dad, it was a cold, dark morning and my dad walked in with a black eye.

And Dave said, what's happened, guy?

And my dad said, well, I thought because there was snow on the ground, I would do an experiment where I blindfold myself and I try to walk in a straight line because I'll be able to take the blindfold off and see how straight the line was.

And then he smashes his face on a goalpost from the football and he takes the blindfold off and all he can see is all these circles where he's gone round and round and round in the snow.

And my dad was very eccentric.

I didn't really realise that until...

after he died that because we just I just saw him as my dad and I now think that thing of being eccentric or being creative is a very precious thing do you not think that some of that to your dad's being eccentric has rubbed up on you yeah I think it has but I don't see it it took my daughter to say come on yeah so it took my daughter to say dad you know you say you say your dad's excited yeah I know I know how was your house growing up

Small house, cheme, sorry, boring cheme.