It transpired that the problem in Kansas City was wholly music related. As mentioned yesterday, apparently “everything is up to date in Kansas City”. So much so that actually no-one bothered updating anything after the song was set. So two or three automobiles were the order of the day, and our armoured black limo was a bit out of place. As a plus point though they did not have any fangled communications gear with which members of the US law enforcement could mention our disappearance. On the other hand if you escape from a top secret installation buried under Graceland, they might just let you go for fear of having to explain everything.

We did manage to get a very generous exchange rate on our greenbacks and filled the boot of the car with essential supplies (at a two to one rate of gin to tonic). Then I finally pulled out a big map book to find our best way to the West Coast.

The mid west is a minefield. Literally. We were less that twenty four hours from Tulsa, Wichita was equally a short hop away and I was momentarily taken by the idea of killing a Lineman in that area. But it was a bastard hot day and I fancied sleeping in a nice bed, so I planned a couple of states along and down and this time Crispian drove a little bit more like he was driving Miss Daisy. His sense of direction was appalling though, and almost as if to raise my ire more, he kept on stopping and asking for directions. And as anyone who has lived in the UK in 2005 will tell you, you don’t want to hear “Is This The Way To Amarillo” repeatedly during the day.

TONY CHRISTIE: Is This The Way To Amarillo

Where is the joke? Where is it? It certainly isn’t in rereleasing a crap 1970’s croonathon. Peter Kay, walking. Various celebrities, walking. And lip-synching. And, and… WHAT???

No-one can call me humourless. No-one laughed longer or harder when Marc Bolan drove into a tree, and I still chuckle at The Only Way Is Up by Yazz. Well the thought of it, not so much the song. And I suppose, given the choice between The Stonk and Tony Christie I might just side with the older fella (more likely to die soon). But does this just illustrate the paucity of pop when a novelty record, one with brass hits it after all, can top the charts for seven weeks. Okay, maybe it was a blip, but then there is Crazy Frog so perhaps the public is finally waking up to my clarion call after all.

Christie does not even know where Amarillo is. I can imagine that his sweet Marie is almost certainly not waiting for him there. I believe I saw her just the other week singing Do You Know The Way To San Jose. Anything to get away from the singer of Windmills Of Your Mind, a more hypnotically tedious tune you will never hear.

So now Christie is flogging not funny, not accurate Best Of CD’s on the back of a not funny song, and Comic Relief makes lots of money. They should feel dirty. Rereleasing this is like raising money for charity by Sponsoring An Execution. For shame.