Good afternoon - over 40 people have signed up with Richard Branson's Virgin Galactica to go into orbit at a price of £200k, upfront. Surveys suggest the main reason they want to go is to take photos of the view.
Photos are at the heart of our top story, too. I hate school photos, even of my children. Charmless and characterless: not my children but the images, often taken as excuses to give often second rate snappers something to do of an afternoon. But harmless unless the little monster on the extreme right appears, seconds later, on the extreme left. "Laugh? We excluded him".
But what if the snapper asks the kids to line up according to skin colour? Darkest to the left, whitest to the right? Surely it couldn't happen in C21st London, could it? It did and Ronke is the lady under the dark cloth saying "Not much to SMILE about".
Photos are at the heart of our top story, too. I hate school photos, even of my children. Charmless and characterless: not my children but the images, often taken as excuses to give often second rate snappers something to do of an afternoon. But harmless unless the little monster on the extreme right appears, seconds later, on the extreme left. "Laugh? We excluded him".
But what if the snapper asks the kids to line up according to skin colour? Darkest to the left, whitest to the right? Surely it couldn't happen in C21st London, could it? It did and Ronke is the lady under the dark cloth saying "Not much to SMILE about".
Nor for those who had planned to motor up to the 2012 Olympic Park to watch sport at it's best. Stop me and buy one takes on a new meaning: buy a ticket for an event and you get, in effect, a bus-pass - whatever your age. Harris is our man with the clamp.
Mind you, who needs a car in London these days with or without the congestion charge. All the roads are up. Robin has been humming Sgt Pepper's "now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall" all day. We expose the 160 holes making life more miserable for the metropolis's motorists.
The mighty Arsenal are on duty tonight and we'll have pitch-side intelligence from Ned, while Chrissie has the weather and we have the papers.
Finally, the twin peaks of transcendatal meditation, director David Lynch and folksy-sixties-troubador Donovan, bounce across your screens tonight at six with Nick chanting Om Om to the melody of Mellow Yellow played by the Hurdy Gurdy Man. I never got into Twin Peaks but I liked the theme music and I actually purchased Donovon albums in my hippy youth. Universal Soldier was a favourite and, in some ways, is more David Lynch than Donovan. Only a thought.
See you at six unless you are away with the mystics or queuing while they fill in a hole somewhere.
Alastair & Katie.
