1993 - Winter
Mr Claus and I have never been on the best of terms. At this time of year, I tend to hide from the public scrutiny that on other occasions I cultivate. Evenso, I enjoy receiving Christmas cards. . . The most unexpected gift of this year was twelve bottles of champagne sent to me by Mr Naim Attallah, who recently interviewed me for a magazine called The Oddie.
Occasionally, the pseudo-contemplative life into which I retreat at this time of year has been punctuated by telephone calls from various English newspapers expressing indignation that I have presumed to record an address to the nation to be broadcast on Christmas Day at the same time as Her Majesty's annual speech. I have refrained from quoting Miss West, who, when told her radio programme was obscene, replied, 'They could've turned it off.'
I forgot my 'bus money' and had to take a taxi all the way to 60th Street to the Church of St Paul the Apostle, where a memorial service was held for Jack Eric Williams.They sang some of Mr William's songs and reminisced informally about the deceased. There was not the embarressing whitewash job that you might expect to prevail at such an occasion, . . One thing I would have agreed with his friends about was his brazenness. He kissed my hand in a well-lighted restaurant, but I couldn't have mentioned that in a church, however Unitarian.
Occasionally, the pseudo-contemplative life into which I retreat at this time of year has been punctuated by telephone calls from various English newspapers expressing indignation that I have presumed to record an address to the nation to be broadcast on Christmas Day at the same time as Her Majesty's annual speech. I have refrained from quoting Miss West, who, when told her radio programme was obscene, replied, 'They could've turned it off.'
I forgot my 'bus money' and had to take a taxi all the way to 60th Street to the Church of St Paul the Apostle, where a memorial service was held for Jack Eric Williams.They sang some of Mr William's songs and reminisced informally about the deceased. There was not the embarressing whitewash job that you might expect to prevail at such an occasion, . . One thing I would have agreed with his friends about was his brazenness. He kissed my hand in a well-lighted restaurant, but I couldn't have mentioned that in a church, however Unitarian.