The banks were bust and the ice caps were melting faster than a Mars bar in a microwave but we were concerned with a bigger issue.

John Sergeant had withdrawn from Strictly Come Dancing.

In the face of such a blow would life ever be the same again?

Given my aversion to dancing I had never watched the dashing Bruce and his panel of experts and was able to hold back my tears.

But it reminded me of the greatest British trait, the one that makes being a Brit such a joy.

We are endearingly incompetent, incredibly stoical and have a healthy disdain for anyone claiming to be expert.

The latter attribute leads us to support the opposite of whatever they propose.

The fact lovable John was to dancing what Cyril Smith was to hang-gliding was irrelevant, the experts gave him one out of 10 and we voted to keep him in.

Some years ago I spoke at a big-wig dinner and sat by a surprise star celebrity.

It was Eddie the Eagle, a skier who won national acclaim by finishing last in the Olympics.

The standing ovation he received that night was twice he would have won had he returned as champion.

We love being incompetent and have huge reservations about those who prove otherwise!

It was surely no coincidence that Boris Johnson romped home in the London Mayoral election.

Would we put him in charge of our chip-shop?

No, but we delighted in the thought of someone as daft as us running the capital city.

It is a pity we don’t elect the Mayor of Chorley.

I say that because a gardening pal has what it takes to win public acclaim.

Even he cannot explain why he sometimes hurls into the air any object to hand but the thought of him doing this mid-procession is mouth-watering.

But let no foe believe behind our daft facade lies a soft centre.

Those who remember the 1939 war will confirm that our civil and armed forces were brave and determined beyond measure. Yes, when fire engines were rushed from other areas to the blitz they found the hose connections wouldn’t fit.

But they used buckets and fought the inferno by hand.

And, yes, on D Day someone forgot medical supplies.

But a local ex-nurse who was there says that they made do and when Monty came they loved him.

He was, she says, as daft as a coot but utterly fearless and determined.

We are in our element now.

The only aces still held in awe were financial ones.

Now only Robert Peston remains.

He is “astonished that councils put money into Icelandic banks.”

He shouldn’t be.

It was as predictable as the late arrivals of our trains.

It was as inevitable as the non-dancing Sergeant winning had he lumbered on!