You couldn't make it up
(Yes you could, but nobody would believe you)
When you get to the end of the internet, all that is left is stories about unusually shaped vegetables and Titus Arrius’ substack. But thank you for hanging on.
Trawling the news for me is a bit like picking one’s nose. It passes spare moments and you never know what you will find.
For example, one thing we have learned from the Covid Enquiry is that Boris had a much more mature grip on the situation than was touted in the press. Dominic Cummings did behave like Malcolm Tucker, but without the charm and that ineffable skill with expletives.
The good news for you and me is that dementia is on the decline.
Carol Brayne, professor of public health medicine at the University of Cambridge — and the lead investigator for one of the longest established dementia studies, the Cognitive Function and Ageing Studies — was “staggered” when she first found evidence of the falling incidence.
Carol Brayne, eh? It goes along with Cardinal Jaime Sin, 30th Roman Catholic Archbishop of Manila, and Kimberly Crotchfelt, who, as an expert in sexually transmitted infections was on the team of that classic page-turner, Evaluation of Use of a Single Intravaginal Swab to Detect Multiple Sexually Transmitted Infections in Active-Duty Military Women. The police force has at least one Sergeant Pepper, but of course that is a bit off topic, as what we have here is nominative determinism. If you decide to become a lawyer, what better name than Sue Yoo? The award though, for possibly the best example in my book, goes to Wilbur Ulysses Bookendorf - Librarian.
“So, M. Prat, you want to get into the Vermouth business do you? And by the way, like the monogrammed shirt cuffs - I see you drive a BMW and wear an expensive but unaccountably tight suit with pointy shoes, so that’s a start.”
Someone on here has a BMW and likes it. Loosen up feller, it’s a joke! And if you are a BMW driver, that stick on the steering column is an indicator - for telling other road users your intentions -, not a handy hook for your man bag. (And here endeth the subscription) What a Noilly! Audi drivers, and those unfortunate people who own a Land Rover Recovery will be breathing a sigh of relief.
I am raving. I am raving about a little CD set that is too good to miss. As your mature lifestyle guru and influencer, why not gamble a stamp (as the Charles Atlas ads used to ask) and get Ben Webster: The classic collaborations, CD Box set? It can be had for £8.99 on Amarzole. The guy played with all the greats; Oscar Peterson, Coleman Hawkins, Art Tatum, Gerry Mulligan, to name but a few. This set is not only astonishing for its sonic clarity, the musicianship is also sublime. At that price what is not to like? I have paid more than that for a Martini.
I know where this is leading. A while ago I spent some time on what I thought was a fairly introspective piece about my background. People seemed to like it, so I am working on a continuation. I was reminded because of the reference to jazz. I spent every week between the ages of about 8 years old to my teens, listening to jazz. It is very much a voyage around my father, who I can best describe as a rogue (and not always a lovable one) He started this jazz club that ended up being the longest established club in Britain, after Ronnie Scott’s. I am sure money was on his mind, but he was a passionate and talented clarinet/sax player. He had something of a roller-coaster life. The track Papa was a Rolling Stone always makes me a bit tearful. I was about 12 or 13 when he sold the house we lived in and went to live at the George V hotel in Paris. He died over 25 years ago and his legacy to me was insecurity and fear, combined with an endless amount of optimism.
To be continued…