IT'S a funny thing, being in Show Business. The questions people ask you! Complete strangers come up to you at parties or press receptions (gossip columnists, record reviewers, reporters) and say things like: "Are you extravagant?", "What's your favorite food?", or, "Are you superstitious?"
     Imagine them asking their grocer. Or their bank manager! And imagine what the grocer and bank manager would say!
     I remember being at a film preview when a reporter went up to Otto Preminger, the great director, and said: "People say you're an untidy man; is it true?" Otto was flabbergasted. But polite!
     I thought of this when a guy asked me the other day: "What's the difference between American and European audiences?" How do you answer that? In a hurry, too; because they're always having to dash away and write their stories! How can you remind them of the size of the United States; of the differences there are between people living in, say, Boston and Baltimore?
     Come to that, how can you compare European audiences in Rome and London? All I could think of saying was that, compared with European audiences, the ones in America are SO BIG! We just don't have such colossal concert places - 100,000 and more - as you do. And the terrifying thought occurs to me - supposing none of that 100,000 liked you! There's a nightmare to go to bed with!
     Which brings me to another question I'm often asked: "Are you scared before a show?" And to this one I can answer immediately - and with perfect truth. "Always!"
     Because before you go out on that stage and meet the people, you never know exactly what to expect. All you're determined to do is give your best, do the best possible show you can. But there's always the little nagging doubt. Have you chosen the right numbers? In the right order? Can they hear you properly? Is the fact that you were travelling all the previous night going to make any difference? All sorts of things.
     Luckily, I find, nearly every artist I've ever met feels the same way, even the biggest names, who've been around for years. That little lump of panic that hits you half-way down your chest. And it was an old-established "pro" who cheered me up when he told me:
     "The time to worry is when you don't feel scared. When you start to take the audience for granted. When you don't care. Because then you're going to do a lousy show - and they're going to know it!"
     Fortunately, we learned to be able to "feel" the mood of an audience almost as soon as we start. And we can adapt the show to suit them - or at least try to! But - boy, am I scared just before we walk on!

This photo was taken just before a performance. Really, I'm not nervous!

     Another question people ask me is: "How did you manage to get so many names?" Did you know that? Four names - before we ever come to Noone. Peter Blair Denis Bernard Noone. How's that for a signature? And the reason?
     Well, Peter was the one my mother and father first picked. But my mother wanted the name Blair, too, because that's her maiden name, and you can also use it for a first name.
     Then when I got confirmed as a Catholic at 11, I was given the name Denis, which is my dad's name. And then my mother said she wanted Bernard, which is my brother-in-law's name. And so it mounted up, till there it is. P.B.D.B. Noone! And it's great. I love that name. (But I think it'll have to stop there!)
     Herman? Well, that's really a mistake. Yes! The thing is, when I joined my first group, the Heartbeats, I reminded someone of a character in the "Bullwinkle" TV show called Sherman. But they got it wrong and called me Herman. Simple as that.
     And talking of Hermits, I was being interviewed for a television show the other day and a guy said: "What does the group quarrel about mostly?" Mostly! Like we were all the time at each other's throats! When the fact is that - believe it or not! - in spite of being thrown together for weeks at a stretch, miles from home and probably knowing nobody in the various towns we play, we get on amazingly well.
     But yes - there is one thing we go on about. Unpunctuality. If anybody's late turning up for the coach or the 'plane, or in the dressing room before a show, that throws us all in a panic. Because we're a team. And if one person's late, we're all late for a show. We must never let the audience down.
     So if anybody is late - heaven help him! That's when the words start flying! (But it doesn't often happen!).
     Otherwise, all we're ever likely to quarrel about (and it's not so much a quarrel as a discussion) is our music. How should we tackle a new number? Is this one a better one to record? What's the best tempo for it? That sort of thing. Which reminds me of a very awkward question I'm sometimes asked.
     "Which of all your recordings do you personally like best?"
     It's awkward because if I tell the truth it sounds like a sales talk! Because quite honestly, I seem to like the last one we've recorded better than the ones that have gone before.
     I can put it another way. The one I liked the least is the first one we ever did. And I get to like them more as we've developed. And it's probably because we have developed. As a team and individually. We've learned our trade. And we've also become more critical of ourselves.
     But on the other hand, they always say an artist is the worst critic of his own work! So what can you do?
     Anyway, looking back, my own favorites among the past discs include THIS DOOR SWINGS BOTH WAYS, NO MILK TODAY, A KIND OF HUSH, and - oh yes, MRS. BROWN, YOU'VE GOT A LOVELY DAUGHTER.
     I mustn't forget that last one, because that's the title (at the moment) of the next picture we're doing. We're due to start shooting in May, and it'll be done mostly in my two "hometowns:" Manchester, where I was born, and London, where I've settled down.
     If anyone can really settle down for long in any one place in this hectic business!