I Stand As The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn

A reference to how I always feel in this the week before Cheltenham - we are coming out of winter (although snow today rather gives the lie to that) and Spring brings the last great ticket on earth - any day at the Cheltenham Festival. I am not taking any risks on missing out - I'm going to the first three days, full of the usual mix of optimism and trepidation. Melodic Rendezvous - remember that name and if you hear it called as a winner on the first afternoon then look for me in the champagne bar giving it large. More likely look for me eating philosophically at the Foot Long Hot Dog Company stand, my chosen festival fast-food, where I will be replenishing my energies for the onward battle with the bookies. Get on!

I stand proud as a governor of King Edward VI Aston School, more particularly after seeing the co-production with K.E. Handsworth of Les Miserables. This musical is a big ask of any troupe of amateurs, much less youngsters but bloody hell this was good. Congratulations to all.

I'll tell you what's clever - Sky+ HD. In particular movies on demand suit our viewing habits nicely. Last night we gave 007 a chance. I can't say I'm a Bond fan though I have no particular antipathy (or indeed passion) for any of his incarnations. I was pleasantly taken with Daniel Craig in Casino Royale, in fact Craig was nearly as good as Judi Dench and that is saying something. She is bloody brilliant. Do all Aston Martins come with a defibrillator and a gun? My Jag didn't and I feel short-changed.

Also courtesy of on demand television we have very belatedly caught up with Spaced. Very silly, weird and in racing parlance the form of the performers has been well franked by their later efforts. Other recent discoveries have been The Killing (I reckon that being in a foreign language makes you take it more seriously) and Downton Abbey, which may very well be tosh but is high quality tosh done with professionalism. Hugh Bonneville is quality in all he does.



I'm looking for a banjo and then I'm going to hit
 that cow's arse.

Am I the only one who thinks there is a tad of natural justice in Rory McIlroy having lost the ability to hit the ball straight since arming himself with new clubs that the beast Nike pays him Ireland's GDP to use? I've nothing against the lad, I'm just saying that's all.