Author

When compiling the review of 2019, the poor unfortunate junior journalists, landed with the tedious task, will more than likely immediately focus on the fourth week of July.

In the words of Alice Cooper, school’s out for summer, and doesn’t every parent know about it.

The traditionalists - the types who eat fish on a Friday and always stand up for the national anthem even if the tune emanates from a novelty toilet roll holder - will tell you that Britain has lost its soul.

As the nation recovers from its collective sunburn, there will be a hardcore of curmudgeons who will be willing for November to come early.

I have lost count of the number of times a sneering dullard has gleefully informed me they don’t read newspapers anymore, before immediately contradicting themselves by recalling every word written by yours truly and my fellow scribblers.

At the risk of sounding like a shiny suited refugee from the 1970s’ club circuit, it does appear that the parameters of what we are allowed to laugh about in public are narrowing fast.

The memory which defines my happy childhood is sitting in my grandparents’ front room watching their ancient television while it blared out the opening strains of Coronation Street.

Chelsea Pensioner Colin Thackery’s victory in Britain’s Got Talent provides hope for millions of us that it is never too late to fulfil one’s potential.

Back in the good old days, when men used Old Spice and fish was only served on Fridays, the threat of an early bedtime without any tea was a popular form of psychological warfare.

You would think that, as mankind continues its technological advance, spending a week under canvas would be considered a primitive pursuit but, on the contrary, camping is very much on the up.

I don’t know about you but I have fond memories of my time in both primary and secondary education but this isn’t down to a yearning for a return to lessons about the history of the industrial revolution or learning how to order a ham sandwich and a fizzy orange in German.

Last week I found myself at the loosest of ends as I limbered up for the next stage of my career - a triumphant act two as opposed to that tricky second album. I hope.

Although I am a self-confessed motormouth, somebody who has never shied away from proffering an opinion on absolutely anything, I have never resorted to protest.

Has there ever been an angrier time than the present day?

There is more than a fortnight to go before Easter but I would put a family pack of hot cross buns on the fact that many of you have already scoffed at least one chocolate egg this year.

My first experience of alien life-forms came at the cinema aged five, when my Old Man took me to see E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, one of the finest blockbusters ever made.

Last week marked a key anniversary in the history of the modern world.

Most parents believe success in life boils down to one thing, and one thing only, a good education.