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Sharp Shooting with John Sharples

 

The price of fame

After my column of two weeks ago, in which I made reference to my grandfather, Bernard Youens, who played Stan Ogden in Coronation Street, loads of people have asked me what it is like to have someone famous in the family.
For me, as a child, it just seemed perfectly normal. By the time I was two years old, he was already a household name. We didn't get to see much of him. He wasn't a granddad in the traditional sense of the word. We didn't go out with him or play with him. He was always very busy with Coronation Street.
In those days, the actors on Coronation Street had to learn their lines. These days they sometimes get their scripts only hours before filming and are able to film their scenes until they get them right. He would sit at his desk and learn his lines alone.
The next day he would go to the studios for filming and sit in a corner with Jean Alexander where they would add their own style to the script. On the set of Corrie, they were known as the "one take Ogdens" as they never fluffed their lines.
He started his TV career as a station announcer. The man who would introduce the programmes and tell you what was on later in the day. He was known as the man with the velvet voice.
When he was offered a part in Coronation Street, it was as Annie Walkers's husband, Jack. He turned it down. He had a large family to support and Coronation Street was only scheduled to last for thirteen episodes.
It was only a few years later, when Coronation Street was still going strong, that he decided to accept the part of the lazy but loveable layabout, Stan Ogden. It changed his life. He was catapulted into the limelight and everyone knew his name. For over twenty years of his life, he was recognised by almost everyone.
I remember being with him in a car wash once. We were spending one of our rare moments together. We were sitting in the car as it was being pummelled by the giant rotating sponge rollers. All of a sudden, a manic woman, who was drenched to the skin, started banging on the window of his car. She wanted his autograph. That was a defining moment for me. I wanted to be like him. It was the first time I had really thought about it. I wanted to be famous!
He would turn up around Christmas time with an orange and some money for us. He'd stand in front of the fireplace and tell awful jokes, - at least I thought they were awful jokes. The rest of the family laughed at them!
When I broke the world record for non-stop disco dancing, I received a telegram from him. I had danced for 15 days and 11 hours and the TV cameras had been there. I had been live on radio 1 and Radio 2 and the newspapers had written about me. The only problem was the headlines were all the same, "Stan's Lad breaks record", "Street star's Grandson a hit" etc.
I would do anything to get noticed, but whatever I did, the headline would always be about him. It peeved me at the time. I was trying to break into show business, but nowadays, I am glad. I wouldn't want to be famous in this day and age.
If you are a star today, your life is pulled apart and examined in public. The press think they have the right to print almost anything that they like.  When my Granddad was nearing the end of his life, the press wanted to get a last photo of him alive. They tried to put ladders up to his hospital room. When I found out about this, my quest for fame died.
I am happy working as an entertainer. There isn't any other job that I would like to do. I love the audiences and the wonderful things that people say, but when I come off stage, I can do what I want. I can go shopping when and where I want.
And, when I wash my car, which is a rare event, there is no dripping wet lunatic banging on the door asking for my signature! That's the way I like it.