Why laughter is my only medicine

Slapstick comedian Norman Wisdom, 85, knighted only two weeks ago, is a former Army flyweight boxing champion who is about to star in a new keepfit video for the over-60s. Born in London, he has two children - Nicholas, 47, and Jacqui, 45 - and two homes: a house on the Isle of Man and an apartment in Epsom. Here, he talks to GRAHAM BRIDGSTOCK - Daily Mail 20th June 2000.

 

Performing a hand-spring a couple of months ago I ricked my shoulder, but it's well on the mend. My GP says I am as fit as a fiddle - which is one of the eight instruments I play - and I feel it. Everything is in working order and kneeling down at the Palace presented no problems.

Of course, no one would ever have dreamt of such an occasion when I was an errand boy at Liptons. And I still think people are taking the mickey when they call me Sir Norman. Six days a week I take some form of exercise - a little light weight-training, a session on my static bike, a walk or gentle jog. On Sundays I let my flesh creep.

If I could change anything it would be my height. Only kidding! I don't care about that, though when I was appearing on Broadway, my second wife, Freda - the children's mother - left me for a good-looking bloke who was taller. Originally, I weighed in at 71b 2oz. At 14, when I joined the Army, I was 4ft l0in and 5st 91b. Now I am 5ft 4 3/4in and l0st.

Fred, my elder brother by two years, had a fatal heart attack at 59. My heart was fine when I had my last check-up five years ago. So were my lungs, but then I packed up smoking 20 years ago and rarely drink alcohol.
Playing in an Army dance band in India, the officers put free drinks on the top of the piano and two or three pints would more or less see me paralytic. A couple of times, when I was only 16 or 17, I found myself waking up in a ditch. Finally the drill sergeant, who like me was in the regimental football team, noticed I was puffing during a match. 'It's all those late nights and drinking, isn't it?' he said. 'Would that affect my football?' I asked, in my innocence. 'it certainly would,' he replied.

Football was more important than a few glasses of lager and from that day I have hardly touched a drop. I normally stick to tea, coffee, Sprite or Fanta. I'll be 86 next February 4, but I feel about 45. I have my own teeth and hair and wouldn't mind doing the ton. As you get older three things happen, though. The first is your memory goes, and I can't remember the other two. Offhand, I can't even recall the last time I was ill.
Every day I take a multi-vitamin, Cod liver oil and Garlic capsules. But laughter is the medicine of life, although it can be tricky if you exceed the recommended dose. Touch wood, I have had only two operations.

The first was for trapped nerves and a chipped bone sustained rehearsing a back somersault on a trampoline for the ice pantomime Sinbad The Sailor at London's Empress Hall in 1953.

My second operation - at St Stephen's Hospital in London the following year - was for the removal of a rash of boils and carbuncles on my backside. To the astonishment of the matron, they were the result of being too busy to eat properly.
During the day I had been working on a film called Man Of The Moment, then, at night, at the London Palladium. 'We just can't believe it,' she said reading my chart and shaking her head. 'A star like you, Mr Wisdom, suffering from malnutrition.' Yet as kids, after our parents split up, Fred and I stole food to survive and slept in doorways.

Now, as a rule, I start the day with porridge or Shredded Wheat - except on Mondays and Fridays, when I never eat carbohydrates and have melon instead. A sweet tooth? Not half. I have one and a half sugars in my tea and I love chocolate eclairs and Liquorice Allsorts. Apart from that, though, I prefer down-to-earth, Army style food: egg and chips, shepherd's pie with butter beans, stew with dumplings.

Now, in the comfort of my own bed, I average eight hours' sleep and get up at 8am - or, if I haven't turned in 'till midnight, 8.30am. Either way, during the day I always belt upstairs because it's such great exercise.