Author

As someone who comes from a long line of daydreamers, occasional minor calamities are an occupational hazard.

I have always been a fan of the festive period, but had long been of the opinion that it should only start within a week or so of the big day.

One trait which doesn’t seem to prove overly popular or trendy with the masses is kindness.

It has been said repeatedly in recent weeks that the looming general election is a ‘once in a generation’ opportunity for change.

Us Brits were once famed for our polite patience - we were taught to queue for everything and liked to complain that citizens of other nations were not so fond of waiting their turn - but that isn’t often the case these days, especially when it comes to travel.

Being somebody who has always had an aversion to silences of any length or description, I often say things I instantly regret.

Ask most local newspaper editors to identify the stories guaranteed to make their readers sit up and take notice and they will reel off quite a list.

The people I trust the least are those who claim to have never bunked off a day from college, uni and, especially, work, due to the effects of a heavy night before.

Important innovations such as takeaway delivery apps have changed my life for the better but I can’t escape the feeling that those driving the tech revolution of the 21st century have something of a superiority complex.

Ever since signing up to become a very junior member of Her Majesty’s Press in the mid-1990s, I have vigorously defended the influence that the media has on the general population, maintaining it is largely a force for good.

Do you whistle while you work? Maybe you are one of those jolly souls who skips into the office on a Monday morning.

Anybody with a memory long enough to recall long school holidays will know how millions of children feel right now as the six-week break comes to an end.

There are only a handful of certainties in life: Benjamin Franklin famously cited death and taxes but wasting hours each year while queuing at the bar must surely feature in that list.

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.