Sidey’s Weekend Theme is “synchronicity”. If you don’t know who Jedward are I’m afraid this one might be a bit lost on you…
The limousine glided to a stop outside the studio. The two back doors opened at exactly the same time, like the wings expanding on Thunderbird 1. A shoe appeared through each followed, again at exactly the same time, by another. John and Edward Grimes stepped from the car at precisely the same moment, as two cuckoos would at the exactly the same time from a cuckoo-clock, if such a thing as a double-barrelled cuckoo-clock existed.
The two identical twins walked in perfect step through two lines of screaming young girls to the revolving doors at the front of the studio and what is referred to in theatre as “comic business” ensued as they both tried to enter the same paddle of the doors.
They went into their dressing room, the one with “Jedward” on the front, the nickname given to them by newspapers such the Daixpress, the Neworld and the, er, Sun.
The word “Jedward” was written in biro on a piece of cardboard sellotaped to the door. This was week five of the X-Factor, and no-one expected them to last much longer. The press had laughed at them, Simon Cowell had lambasted them, Cheryl Cole had said something in a Geordie accent.
Yet they were still here.
They put on their stage outfits, each left leg first into the trousers, right arm first into the jacket. They sat together in front of the mirror combing their hair into the extraordinary shaving-brush style that had already guaranteed them eternal fame. Even in a thousand years time the Jedward will be as famous a hair style as the comb over, the mullet and the Donald Trump.
Two left elbows were bent, two identical Spiderman watches were consulted and two sets of feet swivelled towards the door. They stood at the side of the stage as the screaming of the crowd got louder and louder and the announcer roared out “Ladies and Gentlemen – JEDWARD!!!!”
They didn’t speak, they didn’t need to, their minds were as synchronised as their bodies. They leapt onto the stage, John left foot first, Edward leading with his right.
For the next three minutes, as they beat the song This Old House to death with their vocal chords they bounded about the stage like two puppies trying to chase an invisible car. Time and again they collided. A stage-hand extended his stage hand just in time to stop John tumbling into the audience. Edward attempted a street-rapper-like spin on the floor and when he got up he staggered dizzily into the drums of the backing band.
The music ended, and both finished with arms and legs spread in the classic end-of-routine pose, though John’s spread half a second behind Edward’s.
The audience went wild.
The judges had the startled looked of a groom who’s just been goosed by his new mother-in-law during the group photo. Simon Cowell called them a disgrace to entertainment. Louis Walsh said that God loves a trier, and God love them. Cheryl Cole said something in a Geordie accent.
They left the stage to thunderous applause, and headed back to their dressing room.
They sat down at the same time, grabbed a coke at the same time, took a big swig at the same time.
Lady Gaga’s backing troupe perform dances of astonishing synchronicity and no-one can name even one of them. John and Edward Grimes were household names with 20,000 followers on Twitter, a Facebook page with five million hits and a huge post-bag that daily contained several offers of marriage as well as a fascinating variety of ladies’ underwear.
A synchronised grin spread across both faces.
“If you’ve got it, don’t flaunt it,” they said together.