28th October 2018

The clocks went back today, an anachronism. Native Americans say if you cut a foot off the top of a blanket and sew it on the bottom, the cloth’s still the same length. It’s made me look back at my long life. I remember coats on the bed for blankets, no phone, no TV, no car. And then my teenage years clashed with the twist and shout of the 60s when everything changed, supposedly for the better. No more wars. Respect for everyone. Working hard would ensure good living standards and homes for all. What happened? People got greedy. Riches without working for it. Fast forward to today. Incredibly, holocaust deniers like Robert Faurisson, who died in Vichy of all places this week, spend their time denying the obvious truths of the past. And events, as in Philadelphia yesterday, still result in horrific bloodshed. The clock’s ticking. Don’t blind yourself to past horrors or get embroiled in extreme hatred; learn from the past so when the Spring comes we can all look forward with hope again.

21st October 2018

The clock stopped at 09.13h on this day in 1966 as thousands of tonnes of coal slurry engulfed a village in Aberfan, Wales. This week Cambridge students foolishly said we shouldn’t commemorate Armistice day as it glorifies war. And yesterday there was a huge march in London by those advocating a second referendum vote on Brexit. However, some of the banners (Stop the Tory Brexit) spoiled the message that this was an all-people’s march. The media in general is hugely biased, often omitting serious warlike infractions if the perpetrators are seen as the ‘underdog’. Who chooses which events are to be reported on, thereby influencing world opinions? Whatever happens globally - whether disasters like Aberfan, marches by the people or continued aggression by those currently  proclaimed ‘underdog’ peoples - we, the people, deserve to hear accurate reporting so that we can form our own opinions and help make the world a better place. Stop biased reporting so we can distinguish between what is real and true, like Aberfan, and other ‘selectively-chosen’ events.

14th October 2018

Wasn’t going to mention Friday’s royal wedding but...
..turned out to be quite entertaining, certainly when gale force winds caught a flash reveal of underwear on the steep steps of St. George’s Chapel. However, we were all agog. Did royal protocol allow Fergie to be invited? Surely, as the bride’s mother? Would HM herself put in an appearance, given the unfortunate history of Andrew and Sarah decades ago?  Fast forward and it was a triumph. Fergie, dressed in emerald green, duly arrived, followed by the royal tots all in matching cummerbunds of emerald green, followed by the bride wearing the Queen’s emerald tiara!  At a fashion stroke Sarah had cemented herself back in the royal family. And how lovely to see Eugenie and Jack so dignified and in love. If only Charles and his aunt Margaret had been allowed to marry their first love right from the start...
So, I’m left wondering. Will Sarah re-marry Andrew? Hope so.

7th October 2018

Yesterday when I was young, the taste of life was sweet as rain upon my tongue....
Friday saw French President Macron pay tribute at the funeral of singer Charles Aznavour. A large crowd at Les Invalides in Paris heard that the young Emmanuel grew up singing Aznavour songs such as Hier encore, my own personal favourite. French singers are generally not lauded for the quality of their voice, but for the poetry of their lyrics. I challenge anyone who’s never heard it to listen to the words of Yesterday When I Was Young and not be moved to tears. Yet the Aznavour national tribute on Friday was more than that. He was rightly given the illustrious Wallenberg award in Tel Aviv for his and his family’s efforts in the ‘40s in hiding the persecuted, thereby saving many people’s lives against the tyranny of the Nazis. It’s why I wrote Vichyssoise about the French during WWII. In times of terror, everyone should emulate what the Aznavours did. .
....the friends I made all seemed somehow to drift away, and only I am left on stage to end the play.