There’s no place here for beetroot but ties can be rather fetching on chaps.
THE VIEW FROM HERETHE Royal Institute of Chartered Surveyors report costs awarded in neighbours’ boundary disputes now average £65,000, a figure which is unlikely to decrease in our litigious culture.
I have become increasingly interested in this topic as I observe Mr Newbery, my neighbour in the penthouse suite of this page, setting out the boundaries of his own personal estate.
He recently itemised those things which will not be tolerated within his patch. "Beetroot, The Guardian, Lucozade, ties, Peter Mandelson, social networking sites, Vanessa Feltz and people who eat with their mouths open."
As far as neighbourly harmony is concerned, there are some areas in there which look hopeful. I’m with you all the way on beetroot, Mr Newbery. Nor am I mad about Lucozade.
Social networking sites have, thankfully, passed me by. I’m ambivalent about Vanessa but, if you don’t want her lurking around this page, that’s fine with me.
And I don’t think I actually know anybody who eats with their mouth open. It sounds very yucky.
However, when we get to ties, I feel a frisson of disquiet. I like chaps in ties. What’s more, Peter Mandelson often wears a tie and — are you ready for this, Mr Newbery? — I am a great fan of his.
Yes, I know he’s a Machiavellian schemer and has been frightfully naughty but don’t you think that’s charming? No? I guess it’s just me, then. He makes me laugh, especially when he infuriates people and, just when they think they’ve got rid of him, bounces back with that slithery smile. I love it.
As for The Guardian, I love that, too. It’s full of good things. Not as good as the CP of course but still brill. Down here in the basement of this page, there’s a regular order for it.
And I’m very much hoping to get Lord Mandelson along to my humble little premises one day. The only thing is, he may arrive by helicopter, which means he will have to land on Mr Newbery’s penthouse roof.
I see a boundary dispute. I see a court case. I see huge costs. I see Lord Mandelson as my star witness, wearing a fetching tie, brandishing The Guardian and slithering magnificently yet again to triumph and victory. Infuriating, eh?
Why do we have an obsession with pointless info?
THE Island’s mania for aesthetic ruins remains unchecked as signs and notices continue to pop up in every available location. I suspect it’s a lost cause, so we had better just enjoy any comic effect we can get out of this obsession with what is often useless information.
I am particularly taken with a sign which has been erected on Ryde Esplanade. Driving on the shore side of the Esplanade and having almost reached the roundabout by the Ryde Castle Hotel (surely overdue for a sign saying, "Mad Roundabout. Usual rules do not apply"), motorists are informed they are on a dual carriageway.
Why here, when the "dual carriageway" (a very grand term for a bit of grass and a council flowerbed) is just about to end and was only ever a titchy stretch of road anyway? Still, it’s good for a laugh.
The Island also seems to think if a sign ordains something, then that is how it will be.
"Litter-free zone" presumes nobody will drop so much as an orange pip, while the police message to Wightlink passengers is, "Crime? Not on our Island."
No litter, no crime. You haven’t seen any, have you? Yup, it all seems to work perfectly. Perhaps next year the council could erect a sign saying, "This Island is a snow-free zone." That should frighten the weather gods into submission.
As for Ben Mallalieu’s recent disobliging article in The Oldie (which I shall address next week) I am sure the council already has this in hand, with hundreds of signs being prepared reading, "This Island is a Lovely Zone and Mr Mallalieu’s Article is Pants."