A Flash In The Park

Maddy, I hope you don’t mind if I recount a story you told me many years ago. You used to bicycle home from work through Hyde Park and receive the attentions of a flasher who would jump out from behind a tree and expose to you those bits of him in a southerly direction.

For those of you who don’t know Maddy, let me tell you that she is not easily shocked and has an enquiring mind, so it wasn’t long before she was off her bike and asking for a closer look. This spoilt the whole show for the flasher who said he only wanted to perform in front of girls who shrieked.

So, are bloggers like flashers? I don’t mean that I am trying to shock you but do I blog because I want you to glimpse my small, private parts? Well, yes, actually. This blog started in July mainly because I wanted the fun of writing it but I did make a mental note that if nobody read it I might chuck it.

As it happens there are now a few readers and I’m enjoying writing for you. I think I am correct in assuming that if you find me a drag you will stop logging in and, thanks to Google analytics, I will know. Then, like an elderly flasher, I will retreat behind a tree in the park, pull up my trews and blog no more.

As I am taking my trousers down today, so to speak, I wonder how many other Titled Folk blog? My new best friend, The Lord Belmont, whose blog I commend to you, does not really count. When I first read his blog I confused him with the genuine Lord Belmore and after a bit of flicking through Burke’s looked more closely at his profile and got the joke.

By the way, it is gratifying for a snob like me to have some Titled Folk as readers; you know who you are.

I really should mention the Liotard exhibition at the Royal Academy that I visited today. He is Swiss, 18th century and painted often in pastels. I’d heard of Rosalba but not of him. A show worth seeing; the pictures have been lent by the Getty in LA, the Frick in NY, European and London galleries and private collections. This picture is not in the RA show and you thought a Liotard was something to wear at the gym.