In 'The Village' today, to star in a corporate for one of the less salubrious banks, and sitting in my penthouse suite at The Dorch last night, I came over all nostalgic.
First I read an article in The Times, which revealed that George W. Bush had recently opined: "The problem with the French is they don't have a word for entrepreneur." That reminded me of the time I was entertaining a lady friend in Paris, and we were about to have breakfast in a charming little bistro on the Champs. "What's the French for croissant?" she asked, as my jaw dropped to somewhere below my knees.
And watching Rab C. Nesbitt Goes Fishing on BBC1, I was reminded of the day my old newscaster chum Sir Alastair Burnet retired. Sir A was a big fan of the aforementioned Mr Nesbitt, and after lunch at one of London's swankiest restaurants, his friends presented him with the full Rab C. outfit, which he changed into in the gents.
The sight of the bon viveur and former Daily Express editor swaggering around in a string vest enunciating "See you, Jimmy" is something that haunts me to this day.