A JUNGLE, not to mention a bare-faced squandering of our money. Like you, I was jaundiced by the party conferences. Glad to see the back of them, though Nick Robinson, pictured, won’t agree. Nick jumped at the chance to fill his boots.
Lord knows, Miliband and his cronies were grim enough. Miliband as Prime Minister? We’d have to be off our chumps.
Next, the turmoiled Tories. Another shower. Another term of salivating Cameron would be dauntingly daffy enough. But seriously, would you vote for a party with a Home Secretary clad in a £1200 tartan trouser suit and £215 jewel-encrusted flats?
Now remember, we’re all in this together.
You heard them long before you saw them. The Leith Boys Brigade on parade with their bugles. The boogie woogie bugle boys of Company C. The days when a lusty blast would fire up onlookers.
No wish to put the wind up anyone but do heed the scientists who are saying that musicians who value their hearing should avoid the French horn, claiming that a lot of them who play curved brass instruments experience the loudest noises within an orchestra.
It’s the shape of the instrument, apparently, that directs the sound upwards towards the player’s ears. I knew an orchestra leader once, given to experimenting, who tried ten mellophoniums in his band before chucking them into the river in frustration. That was Stan Kenton and, bizarre as it must seem, last time a saw Stan he was swigging vodka straight from the bottle in Motherwell Civic Centre. Mellophoniums can have that sort of effect on musicians.