I came up with the Vic Reeves character for a stage project and people presume that’s my name, even when I do other acting jobs. I’ve been trying to shake it off for about 20 years. Vic started off as an overblown northern club compere, then slowly evolved into a complete idiot.
The first thing I remember – and this has been qualified by my mother – is being in a pram. She left me outside a shop and I remember seeing corrugated iron above me, so I was probably quite disturbed that she’d abandoned me. I also remember a kid called John Boxer, who locked me in his toy box.
My playground growing up was the fields and forests. I had a brief stint in London in my 20s, but I live in the country again now. I go walking and birdwatching. I’ve just finished a documentary about video arts and one of the films included a lot of wading birds on an estuary. I could name them all.
I’ve been accident-prone since I was a kid climbing trees and falling out. I’ve come off a few motorcycles. A few years ago, I went under a tractor. I’ve been under a lorry. The last time, I had a huge bruise on my left buttock, like a black plate, so I had to sit in a peculiar position. I tried to keep it quiet, but it was spotted one morning when I got out of bed.
Painting is my chief passion. I’ve always done it. I’ve just put a bit more effort into it over the past 10 years. It pays more money than other work for a start. I’ve got notebooks all round the house and I go into my studio at the end of my garden virtually every day.
I’m still lively, 60 is like 40 now, isn’t it? I’ve just finished a Big Night Out and I was leaping off the desk. I got famous in my 20s, so I kind of stick at that age.
I’ve got a 26-year-old, a 22-year-old and two 13-year-olds. The twins think I’m some ancient megalith. What I really like doing is surprising them by secretly studying things that make me look cool, like learning the Fortnite dance.
I cook every day and find it really relaxing. I’ve got a huge amount of cookery books. It’s usually traditional British and French cooking, but then I’ll go off-piste. I’ve just been doing Ainsley Harriott’s Caribbean.
There’s a lot to be depressed about, so I try to avoid doing it. The constantly hot summers are a bit of a worry. And plastic. We were at a fish and chip restaurant recently and they had sachets of vinegar. I found myself being a grumpy old man: “Look at all this plastic, why don’t you just have the vinegar in a bottle?” I don’t say it publicly, I just do my own private mithering. After my early youth of thinking isn’t socialism fantastic, I let life pass by.
Jim Moir presents Bauhaus Rules with Vic Reeves on iPlayer until 20 September
