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A HARMLESS LITTLE PURSUIT

By Charlotte Hofton - Friday, April 18, 2008
THE VIEW FROM HERE
WHY the fuss over Alan Titchmarsh’s appointment as high sheriff of the IW? People are behaving as if the office were something important.
Being high sheriff for a year is a harmless little pursuit. It causes no particular bother, unless you’re so politically radical the sight of somebody prancing about in breeches and buckle shoes raises your blood pressure to dangerous heights.
Some people occupy their time digging their allotment and some become high sheriff. Mr Titchmarsh used to do a lot of digging before he got into diversification, and it seems perfectly appropriate an inoffensive, if meaningless, post should filled by this inoffensive man.
High sheriffs may actually be essential for the wellbeing of high society, which has been rendered quite faint by the rise of egalitarianism.
The shrievalty, with its parades and clique social gatherings, does a marvellous job in soothing these people. Furthermore, the charming cronyism of the high sheriff appointment system, by which your mate, who has already got the job, slaps you on the back and asks if you’d like a go at it in four years’ time, delights those who yearn for the Lloyd George approach of handing out honours.
Some time ago, the nation’s high sheriffs worried people might notice they had absolutely no point and started a charity-fund initiative. This is admirable and Mr Titchmarsh will be marvellous at drumming up the dosh.
However, one does not actually have to be high sheriff in order to work for charity, as demonstrated by the many ordinary people who do so unobtrusively and without wearing the buckle shoes.
But we must support Mr Titchmarsh all the way. Indeed, his year as high sheriff may just be the start. He is simultaneously a deputy lieutenant in Hampshire and he may soon offer his services as celebrity title-holder even further afield.
Essex scout commissioner, laird of Jura? The possibilities are endless and we should be proud to have nabbed a place in his teeming diary.

A PROTEST AT VIKING INVADERS
LAST year Cllr Andy Sutton said the IW hosting of the 2011 Island Games could enable the 2012 Olympic participants to reach London “via the Isle of Wight”.
This now seems a rotten idea. Beijing looks disastrous, and people are clearly developing a taste for Olympic-related riots.
We should have no truck with the London Olympics. However, we must not be fuddy-duddy, so a smallish vogue protest would be in order at our Island Games.
The participants include Froya and Hiltra, which belong to Norway and are thus to blame for the disgraceful Viking invasion of our country. All together now, “Boo to Froya and Hiltra!”

I ALMOST TOOK OFF BEFORE MY PLANE
HABITUAL losers, including me, are constantly searching for the thing we had in our hands just seconds ago.
We are further depressed by the chaos at Heathrow’s Terminal Five. It’s bad enough losing things ourselves but now other people are doing it for us.
Indeed, I may never fly again after my latest experience at Southampton Airport, which I had reached after a train journey spent chanting “big bag, little bag, handbag” as I patted each item.
I then went through this ritual at the airport newsagent’s counter, and discovered, aargh, big bag was missing. Shrieking and running crazily around the terminal, I tried to remember where I had last seen it.
Ah, yes. “It’s OK,” I whimpered sheepishly to the sneering onlookers. “I’ve already checked it in.”