Nov 2011

I asked a taxi driver the other night why the ball chasing fraternity wait for dark nights and crap weather to indulge their passion. I’ve been asking the same question for years without any satisfactory answer. It’s too hot in the summer, I’m often told, which begs the question why cricketists wear jumpers and long pants. It’s tradition, etc. etc. but not until now did anyone ever explain that…


Aug 2011

I’ve just spent two weeks herding two, cat-like children from shady spot to beer-bar beneath the scorching Mediterranean sun but it made for a pleasant break and, as the dedicated follower of fashion that I most definitely am not, pretty much every garment I own is embroidered with the BBP logo nowadays. Consequently, its significance was questioned here and there and, as the world seems full of…


May 2011

At a kiddie’s party recently the missus asked if I’d like a drink and in a moment of nostalgia I asked for a can of Lilt, remembering the sweet pineapply taste I so enjoyed in my youth. But what arrived was not the Lilt of old. It was nasty, watered down waste that you and I might describe using a word beginning with the letter P or, to a medical professional, U. In 2003 with the help of their marketing…


Febuary 2011

“Look at our shed…” My mate’s kids gasped in awe at what was, so far as I could tell, ordinary B&Q output complete with patchy woodstain and a sun-wrinkled mantle of roofing felt. Nothing about it suggested majesty or opulence yet they seemed entranced.

“Erm…it’s a shed,” I said eventually, slightly nonplussed.

“But do you know who once owned…


January 2011

Back in the day, American Indians were recruited to work the high-rise steelwork of a burgeoning Manhattan because they had no innate fear of heights. A brilliantly similar choice was made when staffing one of those, Safe-Speed-For-Life-Because-Children-Die Every-Day-When-We're-Not-Here-To-Catch-Murdering-B'stards-Like-You, vans ensuring that the operator suffered no pangs of conscience in summarily…