The Old Un’s Notes
Oldie contributor Craig Brown has written a marvellous biography of the Queen's sister, Ma’am Darling – 99 Glimpses of Princess Margaret.
The book's publication has brought all sorts of reminiscences about Princess Margaret to light – including one from Oldie contributor Michael Barber.
Barber was at prep school with the sons of Group Captain Peter Townsend, who had a doomed love affair with Princess Margaret that gripped the nation.
‘The elder son, Giles, was a pal of mine,' says Barber, ‘He said Princess Margaret taught him to dance. I seem to recall Giles saying, à propos HRH and his father, that she was always humming that song from Oklahoma!, People Will Say We're in Love.'
‘Giles was a shy boy, prone to blushing, and not one to draw attention to himself, even at one remove. In any case, had you asked us which had more cachet – shooting down lots of German planes or marrying a princess – I'm sure we'd have said the former.'
It's difficult to believe that Paul Jones, who has just announced his retirement from presenting The Blues Show on Radio 2, is 75.
Cliff Richard may be celebrated for his enduringly youthful looks, and Michael Jackson may have been dubbed the Peter Pan of Pop, but Jones's remarkable non-ageing leaves such would-be eternal teenagers in the shade.
Jones was a major star
more than fifty years ago, thanks to hits such as Pretty Flamingo with Manfred Mann. But the Mann-hugg Blues Brothers, as they were originally known, were always bluesmen at heart. And Jones not only used his longrunning show to promote his favourite music, but has also toured relentlessly with his group, The Blues Band.
Jones is still gigging and still looking good. And he's always known it. In 1965, he sang a song written by himself about himself, The One In the Middle, with the chorus: ‘They didn't come for the rhythm, they didn't come for the beat, the people of the town came just to stand around, and see the singer looking sweet.'
And, in a verse namechecking the rest of the Manfreds, he finally turned the spotlight on himself: ‘The one in the middle, sings “Hey diddle diddle” – cos he's just a pretty face.'
It's one thing to have a grandfather born in 1790; quite another if that grandfather was President of the United States.
President John Tyler – president from 1841 to 1845 – was 63 when his son Lyon was born in 1853. Lyon Tyler had two sons when he was 71 and 75. Those two sons, born in 1924 and 1928, are still alive.
Incidentally, Donald Trump's youngest son, Barron, was born in 2006, when Trump was 59. If Barron has a child when he's 94, and that child survives to be 100, Donald Trump will still have a living grandchild in 2300.
The Oldie is hitting the theatre! Well, our dazzling columnist Raymond Briggs is.
His Oldie column Notes from the Sofa has been dramatised by author and former BBC producer, John Henty.
Its world premiere will be on 8th April at the Pelham House Hotel, Lewes, East Sussex. Selected items from the book – and a talking sofa! – will tell Raymond's life story. All this is voiced by a guest star, to be revealed on the night. And it's all for charity. Do phone John for tickets on 01273 478070.
The Old Un was much moved by his visit to the new production of Tosca at the Royal Opera House.
He was also struck that Puccini's opera was a version of the Harvey Weinstein story, set in Rome in 1900.
Baron Scarpia, the wicked chief of police, forces Floria Tosca to sleep with him, or he'll have her lover Mario Cavaradossi killed.
Just like Weinstein, Scarpia uses his power to seduce women. As Tosca puts it, ‘ E avanti a lui tremava tutta Roma!' – ‘All Rome trembled before him', just as all Hollywood trembled
before Harvey Weinstein.
And then, just like the actresses of Hollywood, Tosca fights back, stabbing Scarpia to death, crying, ‘Die, die!'
Having killed Scarpia, Tosca then forgives him. The Old Un doubts Hollywood will ever forgive Weinstein. But his tale would make a gripping opera, all the same.
In an attempt to broaden his musical knowledge, our intrepid Art Editor, John Bowling, downloaded the American composer John Cage's seminal 4' 33" – Four Minutes, Thirty-three Seconds – from itunes Music.
In this 1952 minimalist masterpiece, the score tells the performer not to play the instrument; so you end up with pure noiselessness. It's a snip at 79p!
There is also a highdefinition version available for obsessive fans of the sound of silence.
The Old Un was delighted to learn a local expression while he was visiting Burma. He was told that, if his longyi (the traditional wraparound skirt) became unfurled, he would be told discreetly, ‘I see your department store is open at weekends'.
If your flies are undone in Turkey, apparently, you will be told that people can see your ‘Turkish medals'. This goes back to the era when western-style trousers were first introduced, replacing
dimije, or Aladdin pants, which had no zip or buttons. Those new-fangled buttons were called Turkish medals.
You'll be pleased to hear the Old Un kept his department store closed and his Turkish medals covered at all times while on holiday.
Politicians could learn a lot from former Liberal leader David Steel's wife Judy, according to former Sky News anchor Jeremy Thompson.
‘I was the BBC TV correspondent assigned to follow the then Liberal leader David Steel during the 1979 election campaign,' says the veteran broadcaster, who's just published a memoir, Breaking News.
‘Every weekend, his doughty battle bus would return to his beautiful constituency village of Ettrick Bridge, where Judy would feed the small media contingent some of the best home-made cakes and buns I've ever consumed in the field.
‘I remember that our predictions for the number of seats Mr Steel's party would win was wildly optimistic. We all went for twenty or
thirty in the battle bus sweepstakes, although the Liberals actually ended up with eleven. So maybe Judy's buns made us go soft in the head or the gut!'
Time for Theresa May to get baking!
The Old Un is sad to report that Simon Carr, our brilliant Res Publica columnist, is laying down his excoriating pen to retire.
Carr managed to combine rare gifts – outspoken political commentary and extremely elegant prose. He always attracted a huge postbag at Oldie Towers, from admiring fans and outraged readers alike – the hallmark of a great columnist.
A melancholy cloud descended over the topmost turrets of Oldie Towers as Simon said his farewell.
Oldie Towers is in mourning for another reason, too. Gavin Stamp – distinguished architectural historian, great friend to the magazine and a regular contributor – has died at 69.
For many years, Gavin wrote as Piloti for Private Eye, successor to John Betjeman as the magazine's architectural critic and defender of our most threatened buildings. He was an expert on the lost buildings of London, on the works of Giles Gilbert Scott and Edwin Lutyens, and countless other architects.
Gavin wrote movingly for the magazine last year about his attempt to defeat cancer through fasting, or at least alleviate its agonies. It was The Oldie's most read online article in 2017.
He will be much missed.