How
was the Jubilee for you? Republican
withdrawal symptoms with a copy of The New Statesman at home or head of your
local street party committee with Kate and Wills masks at the ready? I named my silver cat Jubilee in 1977 and
whilst he is no longer with us, I remember the bunting and excitement of the
punk era celebrating God Save the Queen.
Highlights of the 2012’s long weekend included the poor singers on the London
Philharmonic barge drenched to the skin and still belting out their tunes in
true Dunkirk spirit. What other country would allow the finest opera singers to
be treated in that way with no covering whatsoever?!
I
remarked to my friend that Prince Philip was going to catch pneumonia in the
pouring rain on the top deck and within 24 hours he was in hospital with cystitis. Apparently the Queen and her consort thought
the throne seats on the Spirit of Chartwell boat far too ornate, a possible replica
of Posh & Becks wedding thrones and in order to save their embarrassment
decided on standing for the whole painful four hours flotilla. At the concert of wannabee knights and has
beens, Rowan Williams standing next to Princess Anne was waving his flag with
so much gusto, one thought that he had just spotted the second coming. Stevie Wonder was magnificent until (and I
will plagiarise this from a friend on Facebook as I thought a brilliant name) Will. WTF.I.am started singing with the blind man, who must have sniffed out this
overachiever at the very far side of The Mall.
Let’s all hope that Will.Smug.I.AM didn’t call the Queen ‘doh’ or ‘dope’
when he shook her hand and he is in danger of giving us all over kill of his
opinions and musings. He must have the
same overly keen agent as the over exposed Sarah Millican and Sir Christopher
Meyer who are everywhere you look on TV and on a loop surely on Radio 4.
There
were over 2,000 complaints to the BBC regarding the inappropriate and mindless
presenters, who did not give one historical fact or enlightened us with even a
smidgeon of cultural interest amongst the ‘OMGs’, ‘awesomes’ and ‘yeahs’ they muttered. One idiotic pundit spoke of the hat which
Nelson wore at Waterloo rather than Trafalgar.
Bring back the Dimblebys I say with their sense of occasion and
formality, rather than the Fearne Cotton’s of this world, trying to interview random
runts that they meet in the road who look like they have smallpox. Oh well at least we all had a better Jubilee
than I can imagine Baroness Warsi had.
Or of the saga of the Jubilee jobseekers from Bristol who were duped of
their work experience and shunted under a bridge for shelter until their lunch
or dinner as they called it at 11am.
Of
course, all this jubilation was viewed from the South of France! I had been invited to the Grand Hotel du Cap
Ferrat and was I going to forego this splendid invitation to get stuck in the
Battersea bridge traffic, no siree. The
hotel had the foresight to have BBC1 & 2, ITV & SkyNews so almost home
from home. Whilst part of me found the
luxury almost obscene as I was reading about Syria in the International Herald
Tribune, (which also featured a front page article on a couple of my deals
which was quite cool) we decided not to feel guilty about the outside world for
the four days we were there at least. Who
could believe that Robert Mugabe had just been appointed the UN’s ‘tourism
envoy’ which is the sickest joke since Gaddafi was appointed to the UN’s ‘human
rights’ commission. Or that Jeremy
Paxman upset his viewers after he compared Greece to a ‘bad kebab’. I read the pillow menu with such upset and
asked for two Vitamin E anti-aging pillows, it was the least I could do in the
situation of the world news I had just read and prayed that the housekeeping
boy had a fabulous six pack.
The
service was impeccable, the pool and spa superb and the chicken goujons from
room service out of this world and so they should be for 36 euros! I had a blast around the roads of Monaco
& Monte Carlo in the hired white Fiat 500 which still had the Pirelli and
other signs up from the previous weekend’s Grand Prix, although the Fiat didn’t
quite match the dizzy speeds achieved by Mark Webber.
There
is nothing more effective in bringing a girl down to earth from the splendour
of resting your head against an oligarch’s chest whilst dancing at Jimmyz, than
a visit to the DVLA centre in Wimbledon.
It has to be said that the staff were efficient, one was a complete
saint as I was the only English speaking person there and he went around with
his clipboard busy being amongst the unprepared throng, asking them questions
that they needed to be ready for before they got anywhere near a desk. One chap from the Far East transpired that he
didn’t even have a car and had obviously got off too many stops early on the
train, as he should have carried on to the Home Office in Croydon. The wait was only 20 minutes, in which time I
scanned the previous week’s Spectator and ES Magazines for good measure. My only complaint was that the place was
FILTHY. Aggie & Kim please go to Government
departments and give them a good scrub.
Why is that the case and why does the Government allow it? Cultural
and not so cultural treats to look forward to in 2012, aside from the blasted
Olympics - book your seats now:
1. Open
Square weekend June 9th & 10th impress your friends
with your knowledge of London’s topiary: http://www.opensquares.org/
2. Elizabeth
Street Party – Wednesday 13th June – fun annual mix of aristos,
artisan bakers & perpetual wasters;
3. Royal
Court Theatre – seems that 9/10 plays are fantastic – last seen Love, Love,
Love;
4. Anthony
Caro at Chatsworth House & Joan Miro at Yorkshire Sculpture Park;
5. Table at La Bodega Negra – like gold dust;
6. TV
– Grayson Perry on Channel 4 – like him or hate him, the tapestries he created
are amazing http://www.channel4.com/programmes/in-the-best-possible-taste-grayson-perry/4od
7. Margate:
Tracey Emin ‘She Lay Down Deep Beneath The Sea’ at the Turner Contemporary;
8. Sunrise
Celebration at Gilcombe Farm near Bruton, Somerset June 21-24, this year’s
alternative to Port Eliot;
9. Book - Midnight in Peking: The Murder That Haunted the Last
Days of Old China by Paul French;
10. Death
to the Kindle – as they say at Hay Festival – books are much sexier and the
only reason anyone would need to use a Kindle is to read Fifty Shades of Grey
on!
