I’ve always liked Des O’Connor just as I like anyone who can take the piss out of themselves a little bit or let others (Morecombe and Wise) do it for them. Just a little bit …not too much. So when I got a call to come and play saw on his show I was interested.

But what about the world of telly itself ? Well, it’s weird. They expect you to appear on the box for absolutely nothing because they assume everyone is desperate for their little fifteen minutes. “Oh, we don’t usually pay guests”. Well, I’ve had my bloody fifteen minutes already so I ask for 200 quid. They say “no”, and then ring back the next day to say “yes”.

I find the people who work in these studios…it has to be said… downright odd. For instance Tom, the young researcher on the Des and Mel show. I met him previously while he was a researcher on the channel 5 show, House of Astonishment (for which I did a little stint). He originally found me by typing in ‘singing saw‘ on Google and my name came up. Now he’s working for ITV and has called me up again. Nice of him.

On the morning of the show I knock-up a quick backing track. I’ll be playing Moonriver. “Keep it one minute, tops” Tom had told me. I make my way up to Teddington where he greets me at the reception. We shake hands and I ask him how he’s been.

He announces I’m on the show with Darren Day, Joan Armourtrading and Jenny Powell. Wow, what a line-up. He explains to me that the show is “all about having fun” and “going out there and enjoying yourself.” Now I feel much more relaxed.

I’m shown to a dressing room with my name on it and my best shirt is taken away for ironing by wardrobe. He’ll call me when I’m needed for the rehearsal.

A plate of sandwiches arrives. I eat the decorative bits of watercress around the outside. I pace up and down: why am I feeling so nervous? Maybe because I got bored with the saw this year, never practice, and haven’t played it properly for about 6 months until this morning when I familiarized myself with the tune again. Also I’ve got a stomach bug and I’m not feeling well.

We do the dress rehearsal. Des and Mel aren’t here. He explains that when they are, they’ll come over and chat to me first while I’m perched on the stool, as soon as Darren Day is finished.

The rehearsal goes well but afterwards Tom asks me if I can “liven it up a bit – you know, you’re not moving about much, you’re just playing the saw”. I explain to him that if I moved about anymore the saw would spring back in my face I would fall off the stool (the show is all recorded live and cannot be edited afterwards). I have to hold the saw between my legs. He is utterly expressionless. “Be really chatty with Des – it’ll make you look good and make me look good”, he says. Sure, no problem.

We go backstage to the ‘green room’ and Tom says they’ve got Dionne Warwick on the show next week. Oh no. This is the worst news of the day. I’d have loved to have met her – just to get her autograph, if anything else. Instead, I’m on with boring old Tory campaigner, Joan Armourtrading.

He tells me he doesn’t know much about Joan Armourtrading. That, I can understand but he then proceeds to tell me he doesn’t know much about Dionne Warwick either. I feel sorry for him and give him a quick potted history - explaining that she’s sung some of the greatest pop songs ever written and has a voice like an angel. ‘What’s she sung then?’ he asks.

‘Walk On By’.

“ Is that a great song?”

“Yes it is”.

“Um… I dunno”.

“What do you mean, “I dunno?” Burt Bacharach said she was one of the greatest musicians he ever worked with”.

“ Is she as good as Prince?

I frown at him. Now I’m confused. What on earth can he mean?

“ Why do you mention Prince?” I ask.

“People say he’s the best musician ever and can play everything”.

I consider whether it’s worth responding and why he has decided to compare chalk and cheese… and stay silent. I suspect he is talking about the only CD he has ever bought.

To break the embarrassing silence, I talk about the other guest, Darren Day. I say that I’d never heard of him before the ‘I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here’ TV show where he did nothing but bully other contestants in a hot and sweaty jungle camp.

“Oh, really? He’s done loads of things. I guess you’re just out of touch”.

I think back to his earlier comments about Dionne Warwick: yeh, I guess I'm just "out of touch".

The time comes for the big moment. Darren Day is doing his Cliff Richard impersonations. I’m lead on to the stool off camera while Des And Mel chat. A grey army are seated in front of me, on several rows, bless’em, their coaches waiting outside to hurry them home after the show for a nice cuppa tea. Darren wishes me luck as he walks off stage. I take back what I said earlier: what a nice man.

Des begins the introduction: “Now, ladies and gentlemen… we’ve had some unusual things on this show – last week we had a whistler - and this week, we’ve got someone who plays the musical saw! Music from the cutting edge! Put your hands together and give a nice warm welcome to Kevin Hopper!

The leave their desk and approach me. Mel looks beautiful and Des looks incredible for his 72 years, tanned and slim. They are day- time TV gods. First, they ask me the inevitable questions about the saw – where did I first hear it, how do you play it etc, etc. |Then Des asks why I had the teeth cut off the saw.

“They snagged in my trousers, Des”

Roars of laughter ensue from the blue-rinse brigade.

“Now, Kevin you actually make CD’s and go and play all over the world!”

“Er…Yes, Des… I released a CD in America and Japan. It’s doing quite well”

“How many have you sold, then, eh?

Now I am lost for words. I’m all out of chat and pathetically mutter” I don’t know, Des” (I should have said “more than your last one, mate!” Oh, dear, why can I never think of these things at the time).

“What are you going to play for us, Kevin?”

“Moonriver”

“Moonriver – the great Henri Mancini classic! Ladies and gentlemen – Mr Kevin Hopper!”

I play an acceptable, slightly-out-of-tune version of the great Henri Mancini classic to enthusiastic applause.

In the commercial break I’m ushered off stage by Tom. Without the faintest trace of a smile or a “well done” he hands me two disclaimer forms to confirm I am a little man who will not invoice for royalties or sue later on.

I catch the train home with the keyboard player from Joan Armourtrading’s band. He talks about money for the whole journey.

Later that evening I get a phone call from my mother.” We saw you on telly, so did Mrs. Thomas and auntie Gill and uncle Walter. You came across very well. Marvelous”

At 42 years of age, this is the first time I can ever remember getting praise from my mother.