Friday 4 February 2011

Long John Silverberg

Was there ever a better example of how things turn a full circle?
Treasure Island was written in 1883. My son (12) is in his school production of the famous old story. His name is Harry and he plays Ben Gunn. His friend Jack plays the character Harry. Their mate John plays someone called Gentleman Jack. Another kid called Joe plays John (Long John Silver of course). George plays a pirate called Joe (you can see where this is going) and Finlay plays George. And on top of that, a kid called Ben plays Jim.
Apart from being a nightmare for the teacher who claims to have had no idea of the confusion before it all began, it just shows how unorignal all us parents are.
I think we did Treasure Island at my primary school, Ilford Jewish but in those days the pirates were called things like Sheldon, Leon, Russell and Morton. They didn't strike fear into English merchant ships but several years later they would become the fiercest accountants this side of the Cape of Good Hope. Aharrrrrr.
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If the death penalty is such a good deterrent why is America's prison population the biggest in the world?
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To all journalists everywhere...I have seen the power of what simply saying 'yes' can do. I'll explain.
In my office I work a few feet from a fashon PR company who employ a very young intern - at least she seems very young to me.
She often has to do the donkeywork of ringing magazine journalists to ask them if they'll feature the latest fashion gimmick - let's say it's a bagpod which allows the busy fashonista to transfer all her belongings from one handbag to another without any fuss - and repeat the same patter time after time after time.
Sometimes she doesn't even get to the end of a sentence. Sometimes she does but finishes with 'oh well, thanks for your time anyway'.
Then one day she put down the phone and shrieked with delight, punched the air and phoned all her mates to explain that someone had actually said they would do something on it. It is hard to put into words the sheer feeling of joy she expressed at this one simple - and quite likely hollow - promise.
And briefly, just for one millisecond, I felt guilty for all those times I'd been a bit curt to a PR trainee just setting out. Only very briefly mind.
Because you can bet that sooner or later I'll get a call from someone named Samantha or Gavin who will ask me how my weekend was even though they've never met me, before going into the usual spiel.
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I've given it a month but enough's enough. My hour long journey to and from work is taking, on average, an hour and 20 minutes to an hour and a half each way. And so after a brief affair with the newest line on the underground, I have decided that the Jubilee Line and I can no longer go on like this. From now on it's the Northern Line. Old, dirty, rickety but reliable. I'm sorry Jubilee. I was impressed by your longer carriages and smart extra door opening system on the platforms and by the fact you can get the whole of Canary Wharf tower lying flat in Canary Wharf station. But the fact is, you're all fur coat and no knickers. And I'm leaving you. Let's see if you get better in time for the Olympics.
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I haven't made up my mind about Boardwalk Empire yet. Of course it's better than most things on TV. But is it as good as expected? Ask me again in another two or three episodes.
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The King's Speech. It's just a posh version of Open All Hours as far as I can tell.
G-g-g-good night...Solly

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