November 14th - November 20th 2005
Sunday Waterloo, Autumn 2005
Saturday Rotherhithe, Autumn 2005
Friday Extravagance
Thursday Immaterial
Wednesday Show
Tuesday Confirmation
Monday Political briefs
Sunday 20th November 2005
Waterloo, Autumn 2005
Saturday 19th November 2005
Rotherhithe, Autumn 2005
Friday 18th November 2005
Much delight at work last night, as we discovered a wonderful quote from Prince Charles in the story about him giving up polo - which he describes as "my one great extravagance".(Not squeezing your own toothpaste filing under Efficient Time Management, presumably.)
Thursday 17th November 2005
I was at a large, and very noisy, party in Norfolk which I wasn't enjoying very much. When I walked into my room and shouted 'Just give me some space!', two dogs, a duck and three wind-up dolls ran out from under my desk and made for the door.
When I enquired if The Angel was having a lock-in to celebrate the last night of Jack and the Beanstalk, I was told that Bill was sitting at the bar drinking coffee and looking stern.
So I explained that I might have to do my customary dematerialising trick and return instantly to London, because I always go to the Swan on Wednesdays and it's my only real chance to get a drink during the week.
And then I was on the lawn, looking semi-transparent, and realising that, the laws of physics being what they are, even with the best will in the world I couldn't just dematerialise.
And then I woke up and found myself in my bed in Wapping at 11pm and I realised that, yes actually, I could.
Wednesday 16th November 2005
There was never the slightest chance that I was going to be able to cover the whole of the Lord Mayor's Show on Saturday, but I did think I had a sporting chance of getting things together in time to take a few photographs as the procession ended outside the Mansion House at 2:30 in the afternoon.
And I probably would have, had I factored in the inevitable disruption to traffic and the concommitant delays in public transport.
As it was, all that I got to observe was the surreal aftermath, where City dignitaries, scrubbed up nicely, mask their bemusement at not knowing what happens next by striding purposefully first one way and then another, nine out of ten of them sporting some bizarre gilt-splattered uniform to which they consider themselves entitled: Auxiliary Accounts Supervisor of the St John's Ambulance Service, Vice-Warden of the Nine Men's Parish Trust Fund, Third's Beadle's Under-Beadle Designate.
That, and the almost equally surreal standing-down of the Lord Mayor's Coach, dragged slowly by a Land Rover back to its berth at the Museum of London.
Desperate for some post-party photographs, I dogged the footsteps of this unceremonious cortège through the barricaded empty streets, eventually getting almost as close, hmm, as you can get in the museum - but with daylight, and skyscrapers in the background, which almost (almost) made it worthwhile.
And this photograph, which I think I'll call:
"I'm on the coach!"
Tuesday 15th November 2005
Obituary Watch: Graham Storey
Graham Storey had many valued and devoted women friends, but he was, to use a euphemism once favoured by obituarists, "a confirmed bachelor".
He thought, with touching ingenuousness, that this was a secret to all but his fellow homosexuals, and took considerable pains to ensure that it remained so. People would smile indulgently at these futile attempts to conceal what they already knew and in no way regarded as reprehensible.
Monday 14th November 2005
Gay men and women are already familiar with the low comedy that characterises the Conservative Party's attempts to reach out to potential voters whose initial instinct is to run as fast as possible in the opposite direction. (Republicans call this the 'big tent' stance;the Tories, presumably, think in terms of a substantial marquee.)
Last week was the turn of women, with a debate on Woman's Hour (not working women, then).
And the single issue that dominated the coverage? The burning isue that candidates' spin doctors sat up half the night evaluating? The one single simple binary decision to which every woman was thought to need reassurance?
Their answers may not have pleased everybody, but their acknowledgement of the question certainly united the nation - who, with one indrawn collective sigh, could be heard re-affirming their initial view of the two Davids.
"Muppets!"
......previous week
