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Doors and things

Its on odd occasions - and do I know about them - you get the feeling that the world has gone mad as the things you hear or learn about seem like flights of fantasy or you wonder how do the people or the person concerned manage to cross the road without help or use of a hand rail as while they look quite normal or what might pass the exam for being said normal, they give cause for concern in what they say or do.

Recently I had lunch with a novelist who is researching ‘a short list of people’ (or possibly a list of short people?) for a book/plus possible ‘el cheapo’ telly programme on ‘being British’ (bit too late to claim I was Eskimo I thought) but one little nugget he came out with was ‘had I always been British?’ but I replied that the last x-rays I had taken showed I was indeed British through and through although in fairness they were of my knee but as nothing else had changed since in the rest of my body sections as far as I was aware, he could put a tick in the box marked 100 per cent (plus VAT) ‘British’.

Bearing in mind the list of books he has written (he said or quoted of) I was mildly surprised he took that without batting an eyelid but I suspect he may well have worked, went unchallenged or wandered around at the BBC in some under-achieving but overrated capacity at some point but I didn’t inquire.

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