A moment ago, there was concern that we had lost Glen. Draws and wardrobes were checked; bushel measures were upturned; even the Big Bosses filing cabinet was checked, but all to no avail. Then I glanced up and there he was, wearing head-phones and listening to some video track. The ear-phones are substantial in proportion, fair to say, but the main point is we have him back in our midst and poised only to leave us to waive his big cheque at some deserving coves a little later. What is more there are two further surprises pertaining to his broadcast brilliance tonight but I won't spoil the festivities, you'll love it.
"Find the lady" is a popular card-con played by nimble petty criminals on London's shopping thorough-fares. It involves a look-out, a card-sharp and an unsuspecting punter who is convinced he or she can guess which of the over-turned cards will reveal a Queen when up-turned. Sleight of hand means the punter's smile drops and the fiver is pocketed by the card-sharp. They could have been plying their dubious trade on Oxford Street this morning from 7am when punters would probably have been of even blearier eye than usual, and even more vulnerable. But, with breakfast and personal shoppers on hand, it proved quite a pull. All will be explained by Lucy once she has put down, safely, thirteen large shopping bags. Wouldn't want them to go missing, now would we?
I love traveling by air: the excitement of the airport, buzzing with a myriad of humanity off on holidays, away on business or just escaping something they might not want us to know about. Then the surge of the take-off, the affections of the trolley dollies and the questionable give-aways; finally, the sense of adventurous achievement in arriving and the magical mystery tour of the foreign airport to see if your bags made it too. Tonight we've an exclusive expose on why disappointment sometimes spoils that whole adventure. The bags in question aren't at the wrong airport nor have they been stolen but they have been the victims of a variation on the theme of "falling off the back of a lorry" - though the "lorries" in question are quite small. Intrigued? Thought you might be: final call for Lewis who will be boarding at gate 7 with fascinating stuff in his hand-luggage. No liquids, Lewis !
Much liquid will be flowing at the Yard tonight as they bid farewell to Sir Ian Blair. Not an easy departure, which was neither of his choosing nor to a timescale of his making but there you go. Well, actually, there HE goes. He has been speaking and Ronke has been listening. He utters one "sorry" which sounds heart-felt and is almost moving. Maybe I am too generous a spirit but it's Friday and Christmas beckons.
Actually, four of them beckon in celluloid form. The buses have advertised it and there has been much written about it but I suggest you, like me, wait to see what James thinks before we decide whether or not to open our recession battered wallets for "Four Christmases". More of a no-brainer, me thinks, is "The Changeling" - a true story of deep and terrible emotion with a powerful performance by Angelina Jolie. And even if I am wrong about the merits of the plot, she is gorgeous. Anyway, Jimbo on the two offerings, a little after 6.15.
Alex will then build upon the theme of nature abhorring a vacuum as we threat the forthcoming two days as devoid of air or, indeed, any matter. We, like nature, will fill it for you!
Robin says he warned us the red sky image last night was a red herring - it's been cold and wet. Enough, already, dear Robin - enough. As my Headmaster always said to me: "must and can do better!"
We can't do much better than round off with the papers still clinging to the wreckage of Mumbai and Sir Ian's au revoir, I suspect.
Then it's up, up and away for a fantastic London Tonight inspired weekend. If you pay more you can take your bags with you - I find it an increasingly sound investment and haven't lost a thing since my rucksack never made it to Lebanon. But that's another story.
See you at 6..
Alastair and Alex.
