I remember the girl who handed me my umbrella as I walked through Victoria Station on my way to work. I could sense someone running after me, then felt the tap on my shoulder and turned to see her handing me the umbrella which had obviously fallen out of one of the pockets of my rucksack. She was very young, very sweet, very pretty, very Hollister (plaid shirt and jeans). I was on my mobile to my mum at the time so was only able to smile appreciatively back, mouth ‘thanks’ and feel uplifted.

I remember the two matching Loch Ness Monster soft toys I bought back from my first OU summer school at Stirling. One for Maxine and one for Lucy – but I can’t remember who the big one was for.

I remember buying Eliot a Batman game – I think it was for the Nintendo – when I was away with Margaret somewhere. Think I bought it at Woolworths. I was feeling terribly guilty for some reason.

I remember my Dad speaking I think to Jeremy James Taylor’s mother at a party – she introduced herself as Jeremy’s mother. He thought she should have her own identity.

I remember the BBC iPlayer on my Blu-ray player not working properly for a couple of months. I Googled for all I was worth to try to find a fix - and sent an email to Sony - but answer came there none. An HD category had appeared so I knew it was a software update that had caused the problem, but all I could see on the bulletin boards were people slagging off Sony (my Blu-Ray player maker) or BT (my ISP). Imagine my delight when one day a software update left my BD player with a functional iPlayer, including HD. All you need is patience.

I remember Sweeney Todd – the first West End production, which I saw with Dennis Quilley in the title role and Sheila Hancock as Mrs Lovett; the South Bank revival, again with Dennis Quilley but this time with Julia McKenzie as Mrs Lovett; the Broadway version (Len Cariou and Angela Lansbury) that my mum has on CD (and I believe I have tucked away somewhere on vinyl); the Tim Burton/Johnny Depp/Helena Bonham Carter cinema version I have on DVD; the other DVDs I have of the touring version with George Hearn and Angela Lansbury and a concert version with George Hearn and Patti LuPone; and now I have seen the Chichester Festival production in the West End with Michael Ball and Imelda Staunton – anyone would think I was obsessed with the show. Which is, without a doubt, the best. musical. ever.

I remember Theatre of Blood, starring Vincent Price, Diana Rigg, Ian Hendry, Eric Sykes and many others. And now I have it on DVD. If Desert Island Discs were DV rather than C, I would include Theatre of Blood, The Wicker Man, Lord of the Flies (Peter Brook’s version) and Withnail and I. Proud to be British?

I remember being in love with Gillian Hills. Probably at first because she was in the television adaptation of The Owl Service by Alan Garner. But she was also in Blowup and A Clockwork Orange plus she was passing through reception at the BBC when I went there for a job interview a zillion years ago. And not only did I recently stumble across her in an exceptional Hammer film, Demons of the Mind, but she has also been brought to my attention as the original singer of Zou Bisou Bisou, which was revived in the first episode of the new season of Mad Men.

I remember Dave Hawkey running the candy floss stall at the Tiffin Fair. He did it every year – well for a couple of years at least. I went with him once to collect the machine. Can't recall where we drove to. Barnes?

I remember Barney stalking me at Linda's stables. On second thoughts he was probably stalking her! He used to be sitting in the Barney van waiting for her and I would be sitting in my dad's car waiting for her. Very strange.

I remember sewing an imaginary needle & thread through my fingers and shoulder and then pulling it taut. Very amusing when performed for small children. Uncle Vic used to do it for me.

I remember, while train-spotting on a bridge behind Caters in New Malden, being told there was a man nearby with a glass eye who would take it out, polish it and put it back in.

I remember a checkout boy at Waitrose being confused by a bunch of daffodils. He gave up trying to find them on the system and asked us what they were. We told him and he replied, 'Oh, I thought they were salad onions. What do you do with them?'

I remember Lobster (for that was his nickname, as he was often red-faced and it sort of rhymed with his real name) asking me if one of my colleagues was 'hommosexual' (that's how he pronounced it) as if it was a 'bad thing' - or even relevant.

I remember Margarita Pracatan.

I remember buses where you could sit behind the driver and see what he was doing except after dark when he would put down his brown corrugated blind so he wasn’t distracted by the light. He was never a woman. His indicator was a strange looking thing like a red jam jar lid that he turned this way or that. He had a big steering wheel so when he turned a corner there was lots of arm and elbow movement, lots of feeding through, which I still try to emulate when driving my 4x4…

I remember Etta James.

I remember the scratches on my first vinyl copy of Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks. The worst ones – which caused the stylus to jump -were during Madam George. I can still hear them when I am listening to my CD copy. I had the same problem with Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream.

I remember after my birthday dinner at The George, Chideock, feeling too full to have dessert, then Steve coming out from the kitchen with a warm chocolate brownie and cream complete with candle singing ‘Happy Birthday to you’. We forced it down and it was good. And all manner of things were good.

I remember buying Russell Hoban's The Mouse And His Child at WHSmith in Bognor at the start of a holiday and reading it that week. It's not that often I read novels that quickly. Puckoon by Spike Milligan and Keith Waterhouse’s Jubb are the only others I can think of off-hand. And of course this remebrance was kicked off by news of Hoban’s death this month. And I now remember where I put Jubb…

I remember that feeling of excitement when you 'catch' a magnetic fish.

I remember the loft apartment that Cagney lived in. You had to go up in a big industrial lift to get to it. And Lacey lived in Queens. She moved into a house in a nicer area during the show. I don’t remember if that was from Queens or to Queens.

I remember Grandad McCrae’s fascination with the transmigration of souls. And his RAF sunglasses.

I remember fighting back tears when Cinders went off with Prince Charming towards the end of this year’s Epsom pantomime. Poor Buttons. Such a beautifully judged performance by Andy Pelos. And such a beautiful Cinderella.

I remember, while I was using a parking meter recently in a side street in Wimbledon Village after dark, lighting it up with the flashlight app on my iPhone so I could see what I was doing, I overheard a young boy say to his schoolfriend, “My dad never gets any apps!”

I remember Tony ‘Chunky’ Smith and his lovely wife Anthea.

I remember discussing the latest Muppet Show with Richard in a pub in the Walworth Road.

I remember when it seemed to take ages to get from one year to the next. Another ellipsis I think…

I remember buying Keith Waterhouse’s Jubb on Amazon. I thought it would be a lot easier than finding my original copy, but I can’t remember where I put it.

I remember Ezra Pound's poem about a shopgirl. About being blown away by such a girl. I knew exactly what he meant.

I remember the Gadget Shop.

I remember when all butchers seemed to have at least two fingers missing.

I remember It’s Not Unusual missing from the Tubes’ live recording of the Hammersmith concerts, which I thought was a shame as I had really enjoyed Fee Waybill’s interpretation of this minor classic. I presumed it was a licensing problem. I never did get round to buying the album on CD, so I was delighted when I found on Nathan’s Classic Rock Moat a bootleg recording of the Boston concert on the same tour which has loads of the Tubes’ theatricality still intact, some great guitar and synth sounds, and of course the slightly wonderful It’s Not Unusual.

I remember becoming quite adept at changing the elastic bands that used to drive the mechanism in my first Panasonic video recorder.

I remember the smell of the late Ben Lyon’s after shave. Perhaps not its actual smell, but that it smelled.

I remember Eliot doing me a shot from inside the fridge on FaceTime.

I remember Ray Krebbs. He was a character in Dallas. He was a good guy, of which there were not many.

I remember thinking Malcolm Le Maistre didn’t quite fit into the whole Incredible String Band thing.

I remember seeing a lizard in Cornwall this year, in the dunes below Brea Hill. A young guy had caught it and was as amazed as I to find one there. You used to find loads when I was younger, but I thought they had all died out (especially compared with how many you find on the continent) although I did see some on Golden Cap a year or two ago.

I remember trying to update iTunes. And my iPhone to iOS 5! Nightmare!?! Good grief. But I think other people might have had it worse. My favourite is the upgrade causing the place names on Google maps to be in Chinese.

I remember Bert Jansch, Steve Jobs and Sir Jimmy Savile.