AFEW YEARS back, before the young lad and younger lad moved in with us, the good woman dragged me along to the opening of a restaurant somewhere within ' The Pale'. It was your usual chittery-chattery-type affair accompanied by plenty of air kissing and guffaws at inappropriate moments, when the conversation was wearing thin.
The highlight of the evening was when a meticulously groomed Johnny Logan appeared from behind a curtain and entertained the somewhat startled guests with a rendition of Summertime. Afterwards, I asked him to stand in for a picture, and he obliged. In fact, he was quite the charming chap. I still hold that spontaneous snap dear.
Later, while Robbie Williams warbled on the jukebox, the good woman asked those around us if she was alone in thinking that he still had it 'going on'; it turned out that in present company she was. Midnoughties and the former Take That bad boy all washed up? It couldn't be true. Indeed, it wasn't.
Over the past few weeks Robbie Williams has been everywhere, as his new single, Candy, catapulted him back to the top of the UK singles charts (his 14th for those counting) for the first time since 2004.
What a slap on the wrist for BBC Radio 1 breakfast show presenter Nick Grimshaw who deemed Williams irrelevant to some younger listeners. Candy, the fastest selling single by a male solo artist in 2012, was swiftly slotted on to Grimshaw's early morning playlist once it had rocketed to number one. It appears egg had found its face.
When Williams performed on the Late Late Show recently, I was highly amused at the reaction by a number of the ladies (not teeny boppers) in the audience; they went hysterical. If they had undergarments in their handbags, then I believe they would have eventually become airborne.
I asked a few lady acquaintances about Robbie this week and mostly they declared him still ' hot', if not a tad too bulked up. But could he be the next Joe Dolan? In 20 years time, will Robbie still have Irish women screaming at the production of a bum wiggle?
Ronan Keating seems more popular across the water, and after that I can't think of a cabaret-style showman to fill Joe's boots here in Ireland. Most of our singer/songwriters take themselves too seriously.
And judging by the actions of the female audience members on the Late Late Show, should Robbie Williams's car break down late some night then there would be plenty of doors he could knock on, and the woman of the house would gladly let him in.