If Patrick Moore isn’t gazing at the stars at night, you can bet he’s lapping up repeats of Dad’s Army. He can’t get the Germans out of his system and he’s ranting “the only good Kraut is a dead Kraut”.
Our best-known astronomer has good reason. He’s still smarting over the death of his fiancee, a nurse, 20 when she was killed in an air raid on London in 1943.
Sir Patrick battled on to fight his own war in Lancaster bombers so perhaps more to the man and his monocle until this week and revelations in Radio Times where he is celebrating the 55th anniversary of The Sky at Night.
Time for him to sing along with Vera Lynn, throw in his lot with Dad’s Army and remember that two’s company, three’s a Kraut.
I C through it
Something worthwhile, something constructive is bound to transpire from the latest developments at the India Buildings in Victoria Street, it seems. Even if it keeps the Fringe hopefuls, the novices, young bloods all ideas with scant talent, off the Old Town streets, India Buildings will perform a public service.
Artistic director of the multifarious events lined up for the Buildings, on which, to my eyes, the sun never shines, is somebody named Hartley. No relation to the Hartley we used to see on telly every night touting Yellow Pages.
As a Festival venue, collectively it will be named C nova. If they’d asked me I’d have volunteered C you, Jimmy. A mediocre one-liner, likes of which you’ll find in the Fringe.