A quick note to the winners of the Bustin' comp, though anyone else who'd like to read it is very welcome because let's face it, confining a blog to three people who've won a competition certainly isn't the kind of tactic to get me published by the Sunday Telegraph. No, for this laudable aim I need a more inclusive approach, one which spans generations, builds bridges, crosses frontiers and acknowledges that while all is fair in love and war the fickle finger of fate can caress our inner thighs at any time, meaning that even if a watched pot never boils we should beware the temptress who, though she walks softly, carries a big stick (You will never get a piece away in the Sunday Telegraph. Ed.).
To the three winners, I say this: please bear with me. It's been a busy week and although I am now venturing beyond the city walls I have yet to make it to the post office. In all honesty, I won't get to one until Monday, for on Saturday I am pushing the boat out - not literally! - and heading to the Eden Project, where my lad Harry is playing a gig with his band. Then the Wade clan, with the addition of Harry's mate Mark, is heading to the village of Minions on Bodmin Moor. I'm researching something for the FT (Ha! Not the Sunday Telegraph then! Ed.) while there and what with snow forecast it is possible that we will be marooned there forever, making for a story which, it seems to me, the Sunday Telegraph might go for, along the following lines:
HOW I WAS MAROONED ON THE MOOR
That sounds good. But what about the strapline?
PROLIFIC FREELANCER ALEX WADE HAD WRITTEN FOR EVERYONE - EXCEPT US. HERE HE EXPLAINS HOW VANITY, SNOW AND IRREDUCIBLE STUPIDITY FINALLY SAW HIM GET A PIECE AWAY
Look out for the Sunday Telegraph - but not this Sunday. Meanwhile, check out the Times 'Weekend' supplement for something about surfing. Once upon a time, it kept me sane.
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