Last week’s word, ‘perfect’, received a surprisingly animated response. It seems I’m not the only one who silently sub-edits the innocent things that other people say. But, of course, when you encourage a response you leave yourself open to criticism, and so it turned out. (more…)

I went to hire a car the other day and the girl in the office asked me for my name. This is one of the easier questions I get asked in life – certainly a lot easier than the one about whether or not I want to pay extra to reduce the insurance excess – so I raised myself to my full height and confidently told her.

“Perfect,” she said.
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The art of the witty riposte is dead.

“No it isn’t!” I hear you cry.

I rest my case. Let me present you with some evidence. I have recently been researching this very subject for a book, which will make you chuckle and chortle when you read it, because there have, indeed, been some very witty ripostes uttered by people from various walks of life over the years. Politicians, writers, actresses, Ethel from Accounts… But here’s the thing: only a very small proportion were uttered this side of 1980.

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Back in the 19th and early 20th century, when politicians could be quite witty at times, even the fiercest of political rivals resisted the temptation to throw names at one another, preferring instead to inflict more telling cuts with a rapier-like wit. For example, Benjamin Disraeli’s dismissal of William Gladstone as a man who “has not a single redeeming defect”, or Winston Churchill’s description of Clement Atlee as “a modest man, who has much to be modest about”.
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For some reason, possibly to do with cricket, I keep waking up humming the melody to Football’s Coming Home – specifically the lines ‘Three lions on a shirt’. It’s a strange line when you think about it, especially when you think about it at 3 o’clock in the morning.

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I know what you’re thinking: “It’s about time.” Apologies for the lack of a word last week. I was called away to share some octopus in a local tapas restaurant. Mea pulpo.

Sometimes you just run out of time. And just when you think you’ve made time for all the things you need to do, something comes out of the blue and snatches it away in its deliciously salty tentacles. I’m all for spontaneity, as long as I’ve got time to prepare for it. (more…)

Today is Local Radio Day. Did you know that? You would if you listened to local radio. This week I’ve had the privilege of being invited onto two local community radio stations: Surrey Hills Radio, which broadcasts via the internet; and Susy Radio, which you can listen to online or via the traditional method of tuning in on 103.4FM. I came away from both smiling. (more…)

I’ve been toying with the idea of becoming a Buddhist. Well, why not? You’ve only got one life. It fits with my recent efforts to recondition myself off meat – a campaign that was nearly derailed at the end of week one when I inadvertently won a gammon in a raffle.  (more…)

Sometimes when I’m writing this stuff and I find myself putting myself into the story (oh no, there I go again!), I cringe and yearn for those innocent, ego-free days of three years ago when this Word of the Week lark began with a brief, impersonal essay on the word cheese.

There was, as the old saying goes, no ‘i’ in cheese. Fast forward to this week’s word and you’ll notice that there are not one but three ‘i’s in responsibility. Or two if you’re Australian. (more…)

While we’re not discussing Brexit, it’s worth remembering that 100 years ago the Treaty of Versailles gave birth to the League of Nations, Woodrow Wilson’s cracking idea for encouraging world leaders to chat rather than blowing each other’s people to hell. (more…)