In today's Guardian Polly Toynbee opines that we may have, finally and mercifully, come to the end of the mass hysteria surrounding the death of Lady Diana Spencer. Thank heavens is all I can say (but don't tell my sister that I said that). How this privileged aristocrat ever came to be thought of as "one of the people" remains beyond my understanding.
I have an amusing anecdote relating to the late Princess's death. I believe I was the last person in Britain to know she had died. The Saturday night / Sunday morning when she was killed I was out clubbing in the West End on a mate's stag do. I got a cab home somewhere around 4 AM and if the driver mentioned her death or I heard it on the radio I have no recollection as I was legless. I didn't wake up until sometime around 1 PM on Sunday and more or less crawled down to Waitrose to get a paper and some food for my hangover. I was rather surprised that there were no, none, zero newspapers left but just assumed that there must have been a lorry drivers' strike. I went home, cooked up a fry up, brewed a pot of very strong coffee and settled down in front of the telly. BBC1 had a man speaking solemnly so I switched to BBC which had the same man speaking solemnly but with close captioning so I switched to ITV which had a different man speaking equally solemnly so I switched to Channel 4 which had cartoons. I stayed with Channel 4 and didn't find out about the accident until around 6 or 7 in the evening when my sister rang, in tears, from the states.
I have an amusing anecdote relating to the late Princess's death. I believe I was the last person in Britain to know she had died. The Saturday night / Sunday morning when she was killed I was out clubbing in the West End on a mate's stag do. I got a cab home somewhere around 4 AM and if the driver mentioned her death or I heard it on the radio I have no recollection as I was legless. I didn't wake up until sometime around 1 PM on Sunday and more or less crawled down to Waitrose to get a paper and some food for my hangover. I was rather surprised that there were no, none, zero newspapers left but just assumed that there must have been a lorry drivers' strike. I went home, cooked up a fry up, brewed a pot of very strong coffee and settled down in front of the telly. BBC1 had a man speaking solemnly so I switched to BBC which had the same man speaking solemnly but with close captioning so I switched to ITV which had a different man speaking equally solemnly so I switched to Channel 4 which had cartoons. I stayed with Channel 4 and didn't find out about the accident until around 6 or 7 in the evening when my sister rang, in tears, from the states.
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On the morning the news came out, we switched the telly on to see footage (with no commentary) of people laying flowers outside one of the Royal Palaces.
Immediately, my wife and I turned to each other and said, "Queen Mother".
I'd had her in my Dead Pool, too.
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