FIRST of all, a TREMENDOUS BIG thank you! It's the first chance I've had to tell you in print how all knocked out we were when we heard the news. Because, of course, we were dashing about from place to place all over the States and didn't always get our mail till sometimes weeks after it was sent.
     So it came as a most BEAUTIFUL surprise.
     What did? Oh, of course! You haven't a clue what I'm talking about! Which just shows you how really knocked out I am.
     (KNOCKED OUT: stunned, temporarily mentally incapacitated, rendered out of one's senses. - Oxford English Dictionary. I think!)
     Anyway, what i WAS trying to thank you all for was for putting us among the 46 Gold Discs awarded by the Record Industry Association of America. The 46 that sold over a million during the first six months of 1967.
     Ours was called A Kind of Hush, and I know one's supposed to be modest about these things - but I feel like shouting my thank you to the skies.
     I will!
     Here goes:
     THANK YOU! ! ! ! !
     As a matter of fact, quite a few of us over here are saying big thank-yous to America's disc fans. Because there are four of my mates who also hit the million during this period.
     Donovan with Mellow Yellow, The Beatles with Penny Lane, the Stones with Ruby Tuesday, and Mr. Acker Bilk (he likes that Mr. bit!) with Stranger On the Shore.

A charming candid snapped of
our lad when he was in New York.

Herman catches up on his fave reading!

Herman takes time out to relax

     They all join me in saying "Ta very much!"
     When I say "over here" I mean, of course, back home. Because home it is after that fabulous 50-city tour we did - and it's great! Wonderful as the tour was, and much as I really enjoy seeing so many wonderful sights, from the air or from the car, there is (to quote an old song) "no place like home."
     (I remember meeting an old tramp when I was a kid and asking him why he preferred to go padding around the countryside, sleeping rough, rather than having a proper home. It was raining at the time. "Home?" he said, "Don't talk to me about home! So far as mine was concerned, there IS no place like home - I hope. That's why I'm here!" It depressed me a bit. Until I got back to MY home and realized how lucky I was.)
     Anyway, it WAS nice to get back and see some of my old chums for a change. Because the drawback to this business is that so few of us see anything of each other for sometimes months at a time.
     You get back and think - GREAT! I'll ring up old so-and-so. He's doing a radio show! Right! I'll try so-and-so. Touring. What about this one! On a recording session.
     And so on.
     And then one day a miracle happens and we are ALL free together! And you can imagine the time we have. . .
     But home to me isn't only that. In fact, it's really getting down to my folks' place by the sea, throwing off my jacket, sprawling down in front of the fire, and thinking:
     "This is ME again. Just me. . .Peter Noone. Home again."
     And everything I've just been doing - concerts and television and films and records and such - seem to vanish away beyond the walls almost as if they'd never happened. Or as if they'd happened to a totally different person.
     Maybe they did. Maybe all of us in this business ARE two different people. The one that goes out on stage and knocks himself out giving a performance - and loves every minute of it.
     And the one sprawling in front of the fire doing nothing - and loving every minute of THAT!
     Bring on the psychiatrist's couch!
     But the moment we got back we STILL didn't get a holiday. We had to go straight on to finish the film we had to leave in order to come over and do our tour.
     Now the film's over. Mrs. Brown You've Got A Lovely Daughter. First of all, when we got back, we finished the music tracks. Then we had to do some "voice over" bits for various exterior shots.
     Because, when you're filming out of doors (and we did masses of that) even at dawn when no one's about, it's still almost impossible to get SILENCE.
     Just as you get to the most important line, a whopping great jet comes screaming down towards London airport!
     Or someone is thoughtless enough to choose that moment to set fire to his house so that fire engines suddenly come belting past with their bells ringing like mad. (Yes, some of our engines DO still have bells - which I love - instead of sirens - which I don't!)
     Now, as I said, it's done, and we've seen the rushes - and WE think it's quite a picture.
     It's got color and music and a great bunch of stars and a hilarious plot - and I hope you like US!
     Oh! And it's also got that tune I began by thanking you all for. A Kind of Hush. So let me end as I began this time.
     By once again saying (wait for it!).
     TA!