Slack Jawed Babbling

I made a repeat visit to Lingfield races yesterday to meet up with a good friend of mine, Crispin who lives very near the track. And near the station. The juxtaposition of these two locations with his house means there are often callers en route (in either direction) seeking various bits of crucial local information. For instance, “Hello mate, where’s the nearest curry house*/pub*/taxi* (*delete as appropriate). Crispin recalled a recent encounter in which a couple of likely lads knocked at the door and asked “Scuse me, have you got any playing cards?” In response to which, Crispin’s daughter happily produced a pack and wished the travellers a safe journey. “No, no, no we can’t just take them. Here, have this”, said one and proffered a twenty spot. Despite all protests and refusals, these boys wouldn’t take no for an answer and left to play snap with their very expensive cards on the train home, after - one would assume - a pretty successful day on the gee-gees! My last visit to the t...

It’s rare that this blog tiptoes anywhere much further than the safe terrain of racecourse, music venue or holiday spot. Certainly not politics or business. But it’s hard to contain the urge for a sideswipe at the protagonists in the News of the World scandal, if only because the revelations unearth the dark heart of some enduring national ills. It’s just over a week since the News of the World phone hacking story, which had been simmering away on the back-burner for years, finally boiled over and scalded all those who had got too close. Every day brings yet more unraveling of a web so dense it makes a Dan Brown novel look like jackanory. Murder victims, families of terrorist victims, war heroes, 10 Downing Street and big business have all been dragged in. There are several themes running through these amazing events. Any one of them alone is more unsavoury than the soap flavoured crisps I’ve just bought from Waitrose (masquerading as Hairy Bikers’ tagine flavour chips with olives a...