Well, well I never thought I would have so much in common with the famous star although, our headline should read “Author’s Husband Chases Mugger,” what I mean by that is if you are married to a member of Parliament, if you do by any chance win the Nobel prize, it will read MP’s wife wins prize. Or as once happened to me MP’s Wife in rubbish dump scandal.” I am only kidding actually because this was not my fifteen minutes of fame. On Saturday my bag was snatched by a most accomplished villain, who pounced from across the road in a quiet London street while I was paying for telephone parking, he was on his way running like the clappers with my lovely going out to lunch bag full of the usual things one should not carry about .Without a moment’s hesitation ,the Sainted One pursued him for a quarter of a mile shouting and bellowing in the most fearful way, and to the brute’s astonishment gaining on him ; meanwhile some tourists joined the fray and as the Retired MP, who was about three times the age of this low life thief, of central European appearance dropped the bag and ran for his life.
An admiring crowd gathered when the bag was returned to me. I cried as if I had been handed an Oscar, and one man said to his young son ,“You see that is a generation who did that kind of thing, that’s what you want to be.” There was a marvellous modesty about all this, the Sainted One being unused I expect, to so much domestic adulation (because wives must be rather tricky to keep husbands on their toes) showed no surprise at his own athleticism, bravery, and quick reactions. He said it was all due to his life’s commitment to tennis. He is refusing to do interviews about this, although the event has already become a mini sensation, but I think it is a fantastic feel good story, and it reminds me why I married him and took on the wretched Parliamentary Life knowingly and willingly. And a fulsome thank you to the tourists who reacted so wonderfully.
There was a lot of heroism yesterday , we went to Parsifal live from the Met in the local cinema. After two hours of watching thirty men dressed as Korean Bank Executives, hardly moving at all on a dimly lit stage ( by the way I have nothing against Korean Bankers, but there were some women also in similar male attire which was very creepy, and thy all had short tufted black wigs) I began to lose the will to live. The awful thing is that this has quite put me off Wagner and also the great Nordic Myth, about which I have until now been very inspired. The search for the Holy Grail is a very personal thing, and full marks to the young Parsifal for sticking with it . This is of course a complex issue and must not be discussed frivolously. However I think Wagner had a bit of a nerve to muddle it up with the greatest sacrifice of all time and you know what that was of course. My Quaker origins rendered the theatrical use of blood on the white Teflon shirts during what was a very prolonged communion very alien to me. Luckily the Sainted One was happy to leave in the first interval.
There is a lot about Catholics, the Pope and celibacy in the news at the moment. A few years ago I read a book called “ The Sea Road West” by a writer called Sally Rena; it was a most beautifully written book and a powerful story about a Catholic Priest who falls in Love. Someone should reissue books like this because they are inspiring and insightful and way ahead of their time.
The Sainted One is resting on his lawrels!