My only appearance at an unconventional fund-raising event so far has been dressed in women's clothes. (Steady on! We're talking panto dame, not regular cross-dressing...) So I'm delighted to have been invited to co-host this admirable evening. I am told the high point will consist of some intrepid wine industry guys getting their gear off. (Or should that be the low point?) So I'm not quite sure what I am expected to wear. Or not wear. Possibly a pair of blinkers to shield me from the awful sight on stage. And focus on the impeccably behaved audience, who will, I gather, all be women, and no doubt giving these chaps support with a little polite applause.
In order to prepare for this event, I took advice from a Portuguese friend, who has advised me to eat six meals a day (presumably to build up my musculature). It's a tough regime, and has forced me to carry apples and bags of nuts around in order to keep to the schedule. I've just had a slice of Ryvita with some peanut butter, in fact. I know, you'll be thinking that's not a proper meal, but I can't write this and cook a fork and platter gravy dinner as well, can I? Another three meals to go, and it's only 3pm. What I suffer for a good cause.
And that's why we're all doing it, for a good cause. Mention 'testicles' to any bloke and he'll wince inwardly. And that's without the addition of the word 'cancer'. Thank goodness, not many men die from testicular cancer (and no women at all, apparently). The figures for deaths from prostate cancer, on the other hand, are horrifying. 10,000 a year, or, as the Everyman website says, more than one an hour. So anything to raise money for research into these two diseases is a no-brainer. And the fact that a roomful of women are prepared to jeer cheer the efforts of a few brave men who are stripping off in a good cause is rather comforting. Maybe we do serve a purpose, after all.
