It's a tough life being a sports presenter on a current affairs programme. One minute it's the war in Ukraine, and the next it's: 'Now over to Mike Williams with the sport'.
How does the sports person elevate their status to at least be within kneeling distance of a galactico 'serious' journalist? One way is to diversify their vocabulary. Some sports segments will cover nearing the end of a tournament. The natural word would be for the climax of, say, the World Snooker Championship. But, in pursuit of the objective outlined above and when commenting on said Championship, our friend Mike hit upon 'denouement'.
Now we can't say that denouement is 100 per cent wrong. The literary meaning is the drawing together of threads in a plot so as to reach a conclusion, as in Hercule Poirot (or Vera, or the latest bloke in Death in Paradise) uncovering the identity of the killer. It can also mean the outcome of a situation where something is made clear. That might fit nicely with two evenly matched football giants, Inter Milan and Barcelona, competing for a place in the Champions League Final. I guess you could shoehorn it in elsewhere, as the tournament winner is not made clear until...the end of the tournament. However, I have a strong sense of sports journalists straining for gravitas.
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The three-week old is cradled in my arms. At this stage he only sees in black and white, and his focus is limited to the distance to food source. Nevertheless I kid myself that he is looking at me with love.
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'This new Pope. He's got more followers than me on social media. I don't like him. Can we get anything on him? Or maybe on his family? Or can we stop him visiting the US on the grounds of danger to national security?
And he's got a longer term than me. I don't like that, either.'
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Here is a perverse, but I think plausible, line of argument. When a Government (or President) comes to take power, more important than setting out one's own policies is to make preparation for whom to blame when things go wrong.
The things going wrong thing can partly be things that a Government foresees, for example that if it implements benefit cuts for the sake of aspired to long-term growth in the economy, then it knows it will be unpopular., so cue blaming the previous administration for economic mismanagement.
The second things going wrong thing is the unforeseeable that derails a Government's plans. It is Harold Macmillan's 'events, dear boy, events', which he did not say but in today's post-truth environment that is irrelevant.
Strangely this is very helpful to a Government (or President), because you can run the line that we would have achieved our objectives were it not for [insert as relevant, but in the case of the previous Conservative Government Covid and Ukraine were useful].
I will leave the last word to The Spectator's Martin Van der Weyer. I suggest it demonstrates the point I have been trying to make. Trump has threatened to sack the Chairman of the Federal Reserve, Jerome Powell (essentially as Trump hates anyone who does not do his bidding and whom he cannot control). Van der Weyer writes:
'Powell has a year left on his term and reports say Trump has already tapped another Fed insider, Kevin Walsh, to succeed him. But as the US economy tanks, the President would be smart to keep Powell as a whipping boy.'
QED, I submit.
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Who on earth would choose to have an international athletics meeting in evening temperatures of 30 plus degrees? Ah yes - Diamond League in Doha. 'Perfect conditions, Your Excellency'.
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The five-week old was in his pram, his mother boarding an Overground train. A person approached to help. Except they didn't. Instead they swiped my daughter's phone and ran off.
Of course one should add that no one was hurt, and the phone was insured and replaced.
Nevertheless. There are some vile people in the world.
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Short postcard from Paris
One loves Eurostar. 15 minutes in a cab from where I live. Ok, any luggage in excess of cabin bag requires a hoick along, but it's acceptable.
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Where to stay. There is still something about Saint Germain., perhaps because it gives the impression of a Parisian neighbourhood and not tourist central. But still, braying American voices can be heard frequently.
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Notre-Dame restored - beautifully. Weirdly spare, but just lovely that it is back. Ironically, the greatest impact for me came afterwards from re-watching Lucy Worsley's programme on the rebuilding - especially good was learning that the lead sheeting for the roof had been cast in Leicester.
Free admission. Online there is a plea to make a contribution. I tried, twice, without success. I gave up. Mea culpa.
The crowd files round, though it is easy to break off and sit in a pew. A priest is leading the Litany to the Virgin Mary. A tourist questions loudly whether this is Mass. Another suggests that it is all a put on show. Where is that American RC icon, J D Vance, when you need him.?
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A wander from the Eiffel Tower to the Museum of Modern Art. An exhibition of Matisse's work centred on his daughter, Marguerite. Pleasant to have a change from a blockbuster.
And after lunch a stroll back to St Germain. Quite doable at a gentle pace and with a midway cafe stop. In Paris you never need to search for a cafe.
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A note on service in Paris. The reputation is for rudeness. We found none of this (covers both restaurants and cabs). In a brasserie there is usually businesslike directness, but that is ok - better than making conversation before launching into a complaint.
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Hockney 25 at the Fondation Louis Vuitton - principal reason for trip. Terrific (and yes, of course, a blockbuster). What a building (Frank Gehry), even before assessing the works.
I am no art expert. Perhaps that is why I like Hockney - serious, but accessible to people like me. And honest work - he has formed a distinct style, interwoven with his life experience and the places where he has lived. You leave satisfied.
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A cafe on every other corner. Restaurants from the humble to the ridiculously posho. How on earth does one do a recommendation?
Nevertheless I will. For buzz, lively service, and at least some Parisians amongst the tourists, try Les Antiquaires, 13, Rue Bac.
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On first encounter, the nine-month old did not take well to fresh tomato. This was unacceptable for a child who has one-quarter Italian heritage. Thus his mother gently persisted on and off, and eventually with success - an offer he could not ultimately refuse.
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A more serious scribble this month, 'How to be antisemitic':
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As ever, a finish on something lighter.
I have struggled to articulate what annoys me about shows such as Would I Lie To You? and Have I Got News For You?, but have found the answer in a lesser-known quotation from Oscar Wilde:
'Nothing strains wit as much as the effort to be witty'.
The author is a writer, speaker, historian, occasional tour guide, and former Managing Partner of a City law firm.