Innovation
Rupert Goodwins' Diary
Monday 26/08/02Bank Holiday. Still in Edinburgh. It's a lovely city.
Monday 26/08/02
Bank Holiday. Still in Edinburgh. It's a lovely city. Best bit was probably hanging out of a window at the top of the Royal Mile at midnight while the tattoo went by three floors underneath. Yes, a couple of hundred massed pipers followed by a handful of mobile artillery is frightening, even if one's glass is being simultaneously replenished by a very indulgent publisher. Said publisher was bemoaning, somewhat woozily, the absence of Arthur Smith, comedian, who in the past has organised ad-hoc 2am tours of the area including a stint walking past underneath said publisher's flat. Said publisher and wife took to shouting out "Gardez-loo!" at this point, and emptying a pan or two of water over the heads of drunken tour. This behaviour ended up, I am shocked to report, with Mr Smith and pals holding impromptu parties in said flat and much massive misbehaving. Following a much-publicised medical scare earlier this year, Mr Smith is publicly dry (in all senses) and the parties are over. Why do I always find these things out too late? Also had a few nice natters with various academics. Did you know that 56% of the US -- that's fifty-six percent -- believe Revelation will come true? Or that a quarter of the American public believe the Bible predicted the 11th September attacks? I must have been ill the day they covered that in Sunday school...
Bank Holiday. Still in Edinburgh. It's a lovely city. Best bit was probably hanging out of a window at the top of the Royal Mile at midnight while the tattoo went by three floors underneath. Yes, a couple of hundred massed pipers followed by a handful of mobile artillery is frightening, even if one's glass is being simultaneously replenished by a very indulgent publisher. Said publisher was bemoaning, somewhat woozily, the absence of Arthur Smith, comedian, who in the past has organised ad-hoc 2am tours of the area including a stint walking past underneath said publisher's flat. Said publisher and wife took to shouting out "Gardez-loo!" at this point, and emptying a pan or two of water over the heads of drunken tour. This behaviour ended up, I am shocked to report, with Mr Smith and pals holding impromptu parties in said flat and much massive misbehaving. Following a much-publicised medical scare earlier this year, Mr Smith is publicly dry (in all senses) and the parties are over. Why do I always find these things out too late? Also had a few nice natters with various academics. Did you know that 56% of the US -- that's fifty-six percent -- believe Revelation will come true? Or that a quarter of the American public believe the Bible predicted the 11th September attacks? I must have been ill the day they covered that in Sunday school...