Big brother got the gong. In his full tartan regalia. Tom Gilzean, fanatical fundraiser for charity in the Royal Mile’s streets, figured in the last honours. He’s 90. And well done, Tommy.
Harry Gilzean was 58 when he died in ‘84. A canny sort, he was a talented cartoonist, his humorous football cartoon strip appearing in this paper every Monday. Adept at raising a laugh with the strip as his brother is at raising money.
I hereby award Harry Gilzean a posthumous gong.
Wot comes of hob-nobbing wiv the royals, innit? Nicholas Witchell, below, (one day to become Sir Nick, inevitably) is now speaking posher then the Buck Palace/Sandringham set themselves.
“Years” when he gets his tongue round it becomes “yeahs”, have you noticed? That consistently is one of his best as the Queen’s English spews from him.
Perfect your patois, then you can mingle with the toffee noses. Nick’s nose is well toffeed by now.
Afterwords . .
. . . Everything’s tickittyboo with Ann Widdicombe, glad to say: “I’m extremely healthy, fit and active. The panto’s not taking it out of me. I’m a pensioner but have no aches or pains.”