8.30 am. After my jog, I again noticed the lovebirds. Now that I am an experienced Peeping Tom, I realise that they indulge in a sophisticated dance. Tap each other on the cheek, turn and walk away, tap the other cheek, turn and walk away, intense beak to beak necking, turn and walk away. etc etc.
It would not have been out of place in the ballrooms of the 1800s, except that the resulting fornication would have been rather more discrete.
11.30 am. My latest copy of Billboard fell open at page 11, where there is an advert from "Van Gogh", who says, and I quote "I'll cut off one of my ears...if I don't get a deal in 2 years." I was intrigued to note that he made this bold statement on 21st march 2001, a date of some personal significance.
Trusting in the process, I have therefore visited his site "vangoghspeaks.com", and sent him an email. I doubt, however, that I will be able to save his ear.
11.41 am. I have just written a lengthy email to Ozzie Richardson, who is depressed by Channel Four's rejection (received yesterday) of the Vicar Chronicles. I am too esoteric for Channel Five, and too mainstream for Channel Four.
At the heart of the problem would seem to lie the suspicion that the music industry is "esoteric". Why more esoteric than antiques (Lovejoy), corporate lawyers (Trust), Scottish Lairds (Monarch of the Glenn)?
He also raises the notion that the "stakes must be really high" - this is apparently why we have so many police and hospital dramas. Death is apparently the only stake that matters on TV. I note in passing that there is no life or death in any of the highly mainstream programmes that I have quoted.
Which means that the true issue must lie elsewhere. Possibly in the character of the Vicar himself. Or can I blame it on Punk?
