Richard the Third, disinterred.
Reg Presley, gone to meet Elvis,
there to compare a neck with a pelvis.
Houses of Parliament, rank and file,
vote to let Elton take Dave up the aisle.
Well that's today in a nutshell really, and - like the rest of the population - it's the Richard 111 story which most intrigues me, with Reg Presley coming a close second.
Poor old Reg - more famous for his bendy neck, inspiring the 'Spinal Tap' piss-take and being hoodwinked into believing in UFOs and aliens by a bunch of scallywags with lawn-rollers, than he is for all the musical innovation he inspired in the 1960s. I wonder if he went to his grave with the same convictions? Death's not fair, when you consider that Jimmy Savile went to his grave with no convictions whatsoever.
I would dearly love to lay my hands on the bones of the last Plantagenet King of England. My German dentist friend asked if I could acquire a tooth for his collection, but I am not holding out much hope of that. I have a dear friend who is a Plantagenet by birth (yes, I do move in those circles), so I may be able to get him a royal tooth of sorts, albeit about several hundred times removed (do the maths). Having a tooth removed once is bad enough, so I think he will have to wait until one falls out.
Gay marriage? I'm all for anything that makes the Church look like fools, but - and I am sorry for this - I cannot take most weddings seriously, let alone gay ones. My friend went to a Civil Ceremony between two of our mutual gay friends recently, and when I asked him how it all went, he said, "It was fine. All of the women were blubbing", and we both burst out laughing involuntarily.
Personally, I have never needed any meaningful, loving relationship to be validated by the Church or the Government with a rubber stamp or public declaration, but each to his/her own. I can understand going through the whole charade if there were even more meaningful tax-breaks to be had from HMRC, but a big day out costing about £30,000 would be too big for me.
A friend of mine's daughter was married recently, and he was complaining that her dress alone cost him about £5000. "And," I sympathetically pointed out, "it will only be used twice in her life."
H.I.'s daughter has been dreaming of a big, fat, white wedding since she was 10 years old. She is now 45, with two grown children, and her wedding is booked for this coming Spring. Her (very nice, it has to be said) dress has arrived from Net a Porter, and I will not say how much it cost, even though (or especially since) it was payed for by H.I.
Ever since the engagement was announced, I have been under pressure to renew my battered old Armani suit, and - with the eagle-eyed help of H.I. - I now have a Black-Lable, charcoal-grey one originally costing $4000, which has only been worn once by the original, giant owner. I will tell you how much it cost: £175.
How the other half live.