‘Who performs at the circus in Piccadilly?’
through
‘Is Edinburgh in Glasgow?’
to
‘Why on Earth did they build Windsor Castle on the flight path of Heathrow?’
I don’t think I ever asked a daft question (not that I remember). However, I gave daft answers. The daftest story, The Blackpool Flag, is narrated here, although a lot of personal things mentioned in it have changed in 2006.
Anyway, there were other funny situations. Once on a quiz show they asked a woman, what darjeeling was. Clueless, she kind of angrily replied: ‘A curry?’
The best yet was this story from my first radio placement, where I had to prepare questions for a quiz (for my sins, I guess). I detested this routine: almost every other question I suggested would turn out to be too hard. Bearing in mind there were three categories of questions (Easy, Medium, and Hard), my Sisyphus labour could hardly be any harder, excuse the pun. Then one day I came up with this beautiful ‘easy’ question, and it turned into a fiasco. The dialogue between a presenter and a listener went, as follows:
P: How many toes are there on two feet? [The answer is, obviously, 10. – JS].
L: (after a pause, confused) Do I need to count big toes?
Morale: You can never tell.
