Off to Cambridge and Degas feeling sick and giddy. I have doubled my dose of Losartan to 50 mg and now my blood pressure is so low I can barely function. Degas was a multi-tasker as the exhibition at the Fitzwilliam demonstrates.
He seems to me to a perfectly competent sculptor, draughtsman and painter but the cognoscenti set him on a high pedestal and the exhibition ends with works inspired by Degas by Lucien Freud, Francis Bacon, Frank Auerbach, David Hockney, Howard Hodgkin et al – the best part of the show for me.
Even better was a jolly lunch during which my guest told me how to pronounce Degas and samphire. The latter is not sam-fire but samfer. She kindly drove me back to the station after lunch. As I had three glasses of port under my belt this was welcome.
I noticed a Rumpole look-a-like on the platform and asked if he was a barrister. “Not exactly but I work for the Ministry advising them about proposed legislation.” Three glasses of port almost made me giggle as I remembered that radio show The Men from the Ministry. He continued that there had been two rape cases over-turned and it was causing the devil of a lot of trouble. Every convicted rapist would appeal. He said that the police say that they don’t have time to go through all the electronic messages but he observed that when the defence are allowed access they find what they need in no time.
My last office in the City was next door to Rabobank and there were often personalised number plates parked outside: BRU 1, BRU 2, et cetera. I thought it would be a good present for my brother’s stable of cars. In fact they were all part of the Sultan of Brunei’s fleet. My picture the other day was a joke – I saw it in Mayfair – but I’m tempted by Hoofy Hearted’s suggestion of an engraved gold bracelet. I have always avoided a signet ring but a bracelet … maybe?
Now, and this is, probably, the last word on numbers plates I was given a lift in a swanky, sick-making BMW- number plate WURT 2. I was in Germany in 1972. First the chauffeur washed my gumboots because he didn’t want mess in the boot. Then I sat up front with him to the annoyance of the Prince of Württemberg who lolled in the back seat and seemed desirous of my adolescent company. I explained, rather lamely but truthfully, that I got car sick. Anyway to break the ice I asked him who owned WURT 1 – he did, it was being serviced and, for good measure, he told me that he had almost all of the single figure WURTs in his garage. To his credit he was jolly nice to me while certainly thinking me a nincompoop.
https://youtu.be/9pktmuds4Cc
Number plates. Remember ‘Round the Horne’? Was it Julian or was it Sandy whose registration plate was R U 1 2 ? Say it out loud. There can’t have been a question mark on the plate.