There are some people who live forever bathed in the golden glow of collective folk memory: Floella Benjamin (with her dulcet tones), Tom Baker (with his scarf), Andi Peters (and all his cheerful enthusiasm). Add to that list Lenny Henry, who feels as familiar to me as a family friend – the magnanimous uncle who has always been there.
Now 57, Sir Lenny (he was knighted this year) has had a hell of a career. Much of it is so well-worn: how he got his big break, how he appeared on The Black And White Minstrel Show (which he now regrets), his role in co-founding Comic Relief, and so on. I’ve absorbed those details as though by osmosis. But I find myself most interested in his current incarnation: the one who blew