Danskcolin: Saturday October 5th 2024 "Are YOU one of my growing band of 'elite readers'"?"

Here's a question-and-seven-eighths for you, dear friends - I know it's a weekend, and I know you're a "busy" (!), but are you a member of my growing band of "elite readers"? A lot of you are, aren't you - and you know who you are (!).

Being a member of an elite is a responsibility, after all. It comes with certain privileges, but also with certain penalties - just think about those occasions when people are trying to give you help, but they're not strictly allowed to, because they're not "exclusive" enough for you to be able to accept that help (!).

Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it, but it's happening almost daily "in these here parts" as people say "in these here parts" (!). Recent examples in the local Onion News are legion:

And what about this "doozy" of a newsflash, from the lovely local village of Bell End, just a few miles from here (!):

[That's enough exclamation marks in brackets (!) - Ed]

I don't know, whatever next! And what a crazy world we live in !!!!! I don't know if it's the same in your "neck of the woods" - keep me informed minute by minute if you can, please: postcards only, though!

Being an elite member of this or that can be a blessing or a curse, and my medium-to-long-suffering wife Lois and I debate the arguments 'for' and 'agin' during our daily walk this morning, which today is over Poolbrook Common.

And we stop to reflect awhile by the still waters of the famous Poolbrook Pond - we need a bit of peace and quiet sometimes to "knock a bit of sense into each other" (not physically, I must stress! - no blows were exchanged (!)) - just as well, because I'd probably get the worst of it, anyway: but jury still out on that one!

my medium-to-long-suffering wife Lois and I sit awhile

by the still waters of Poolbrook Pond on Poolbrook Common -

the perfect place for a bit of quiet reflection (in more ways than one!)

In the UK, you can't get more "elite" than an Old Etonian - and a Young Old Etonian is generally someone who's "going places" - whether that's good or bad, I'm leaving open for the moment!

Look at the record - Old Etonians dominated the UK premiership in the 19th century and, just when you thought the Old Etonian "golden age" had been thoroughly buried and put to bed - not necessarily in that order (!) - they have started to pop up again more recently, haven't they.

All these famous UK Prime Ministers of the Victorian-Edwardian Age studied at the elite Eton College as boys:

There then followed a period of some 50 years when Old Etonians were striking out in the "Number Ten" stakes, until there was an unexpected resurgence of the elite school's Old Boys in the 1950's and then again into the 1990's.

Yes, with the honourable exception of Theresa May, Eton College again seemed to have the Premiership "sewn up" for a few years again, didn't they!

"But why are you and Lois bothering to debate the issue of 'elites' - good or bad - under those lovely blue skies this lovely morning, Colin?", I hear you cry. [Not me, I don't care, I'm on my lunch break till 4 pm. Leave me a message! - Ed]

Well, seeing as how you're obviously interested (!), the reason is because of the news from our 16-year-old granddaughter Rosalind, who in the last couple of weeks, has been on a field trip to Devon, with fellow-students from her high-end private girls' boarding school. And who did they find that they were sharing accommodation with, down in the wilds of Devon, but a party of teenage boys from where else but Eton College, no less!

Our 16-year-old granddaughter Rosalind (centre), with elder

sister Josie (18) and father Ed, pictured, en route to the recent

Taylor Swift "Eras Tour" concert at London's Wembley Stadium

And on the phone today, I ask Rosalind's mum, our daughter Alison, whether Rosalind was impressed by the Young Etonians she "hobnobbed" with, during their Devon retreat.

Rosalind's impressions of these elite young 'lads' and possible future Prime Ministers were "mixed", Alison reports, so no "wedding bells" in sight, for the moment at least! However she thinks Rosalind took a shine to one of the young 'lads' - no more than that, however.

So it may be that Rosalind isn't necessarily going to be the next "Carrie Johnson" - not for a while at least! But is it significant that also in the last 2 weeks, Rosalind has changed her choice of three A Level Subjects to drop Spanish and study Politics instead?

I wonder..... !!!

Who knows - Hampshire this week, Downing Street the next, maybe?

So stick with us - we're the family that's "going places", that's for sure!

[Not you, though, Colin! - Ed]

21:00 We go to bed on the first programme in likeable, Cotswold-born, presenter Charlie Cooper's new documentary series looking at rural mysteries, myths and legends from the English countryside, ghost stories etc - all that kind of malarkey, anyway.

And we hear an interesting investigation tonight into the (mainly) East Anglian legend of the monster demon dog "Black Shuck", who's been reported as having been seen by hundreds of startled witnesses, on hundreds of occasions, going back 900 years. The dog is said to be as big as a calf, with eyes "as red as the fires of hell".

Yikes!

The programme turns out to be a decently thorough study of the Black Shuck legend by Cooper, but if I were to make any criticisms, I would point to he numerous distractions which take us away from the matter in hand.

For a 30-second documentary, too much time is wasted, for instance, on the theories of Cooper's sister Daisy, also a TV presenter, who says a ghost is pulling her duvet off her bed at night - for which there was no supporting evidence, it seems to Lois and me.

Again, while Cooper is staking out the ideal place for him to set up his "trapcams" to hopefully catch the Black Shuck on film, a passing motorist stops by and warns him about the site he has chosen - because it turns out that it's a hot spot for so-called "dogging".

Oh dear! And later in the programme we do indeed see doggers turning up to Cooper's van in the middle of the night - but when they see there's nothing going on in the van, and Cooper threatens to call the police, they make a swift exit, so that's all right. But meanwhile a bit more time has been wasted.

And a constant worry for Cooper during the programme is all about his mum's birthday - he's totally forgotten about it, it seems, until he's reminded in an anguished phone-call from his dad back home in the Cotswolds.

And Lois and I kind of sympathise with Charlie's predicament here. He had this documentary investigation to film for the BBC, and he probably just caught up with all the excitement of the planning, the travelling about, the contacts with Black Shuck "witnesses" etc. And we bet that all thoughts of his Cotswold home far away, and his poor grey-haired mum probably flew out of his head, in all the mayhem.

Luckily, Cooper's dad has some suggestions.