I enjoyed reading ‘Hey Jo’. That girl can spin a tale, nothing fancy mind you, but a page turner with lots of pretty photographs and nice costumes. You can’t say fairer than that. Poor lady. I’m so glad my Percy didn’t behave that way when he was alive. Of course, I don’t know what he’s like now that he’s dead.
I’m not one for celebrities, but when I saw the charming Jo Wood on the telly, I went straight to my local Waterstones and purchased a copy of her autobiography, ‘Hey Jo’, a chronicle of her babysitting years with a rock star spouse. What that girl needed, (in my humble opinion), was a crash course in psychoanalysis, and a daily eye bath with Optrex to rinse the stars out of her innocent eyes.
In one sentence, having exposed the loutish behaviour of her spouse, she says ‘I was married to a creative genius’, and you can almost hear the intake of breath! Such heartache! Power to her elbow for writing it all down!!
Being a psychologist gives you the edge. If my Percy had gone philandering, I would have bound him to the wheel like Justine. He may have enjoyed this, of course. Correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t the creative genius that n’er do well, Ronald Wood? (Isn’t he a ‘sir’ yet? Never mind, I’m sure his new concubine will see to that).
He does seem to be popping out of the woodwork a lot lately. I confess, I have a grudge against those Rolling boys. On the night of my honeymoon, I was treated to a florid rendition of ‘I can’t get no satisfaction’. My poor Percy wore himself out on the floor, gyrating and gesticulating like a chimpanzee. He was out cold as soon as his head hit the pillow. It took three doctors and two physiotherapists to revive him. I still blame those shysters for ruining my fairytale wedding!
Olive Onion’s verdict on Hey Jo, by Jo Wood. “A juicy read over a cup of tea and a hobnob.”