So what’s to be done with, or to, the old tub (not you, darling, sit down)? The Waverley, pride of the Clyde, the world’s only sea-going paddle steamer, looks like being consigned to maritime history.
The charity that’s been keeping her afloat is finding operating costs unsustainable in this economic climate. She’s been part of Doon the Watter folklore for ever. To be frank, I’d rather have had her paddle as Pride of the Forth. It’s called envy.
So what to do? Tow her out to sea and have her torpedoed? God forbid that should happen. If it does, ideally I’d like to see Captain Johnny Beattie on the bridge.
Fell for it at first. All the sweet talk, the promises, the propaganda when he first got in. David Cameron sounded like the prime minister bruised, battered and thoroughly Brown-ed off Britain had been waiting for.
Cop Call-Me-Dave now and you have before you a pussyfooting chancer. Like most of the rest of them, in politics for what he personally can get out of the squalid business. You’d think twice, thrice and then some about buying a second-hand car from him.
Now the smoothie is rubber-stamping Government defence cuts that will ravage many of the army’s most historic infantry battalions, the Black Watch among them. Call him Death Watch Dave.
Afterwords . .
You asked for the bad news first. You’re getting it first and second. Eddie Murphy is to host the 84th annual Academy Awards in Hollywood next February. Excessively overrated, Murphy gets the Oscar for being as funny as toothache.