Let’s have the new one from Jess Glynne and then we’ll follow it with Hozier …’  When you just know it’s going to be a bad day …

10th May.  My paternal grandparents got engaged on this day ninety-nine years ago.  10th May, 2025.  Help!  Gran left her ring to me and, inside, it is engraved with the date and their initials.  Part of my make-up, who would have guessed that, one day, that same date would come to mean something entirely different?    The irony makes me smile.  God moves in mysterious ways …

I cannot believe that I am, finally, sitting down to write this at 6.50pm!  The usual chaos.  I spent forty minutes recording one of my chats for my friend, Shona – no, I couldn’t possibly bore her for forty minutes (well, I could!) but Spotify has, obligingly, moved the goalposts yet again and, on pressing ‘Stop Record’, my dulcet tones just disappeared into the ether!  Unbelievable.  Attempt number two and the same thing happened.  Why?  Similarly, one of Becca’s friends has flown over to see her in Rome this weekend and, cleverly, I realised that she could help me by taking a parcel to Becca containing, among other things, her birthday cards for the 25th.  Good thinking!  Ten pounds on Next Day delivery and I was to send it to her office in London as there would be no-one home.  Done.  Don’t be ridiculous!  Of course, there was a tube strike and Gabby ended up working from home.  Thirty-five pounds and a courier later …  Again, why?  Good guys don’t win!  Maybe I did something terrible in a past life?  Maybe my guardian angel has a warped sense of humour – or has spoken to my mother?  Either way, she’s fired!

Anyone know what Baby Lasagna and Cacio e pepe have in common?  The answer is nothing.  Baby Lasagna is representing Croatia in the Eurovision Song Contest tomorrow night.  Baby Lasagna!  Seriously?  Personally, I think Tripe would be more appropriate, particularly in view of the song title: Rim Tim Tagi Dim.  Pop, wherever you are, please be watching!  To be fair, it is well- nigh impossible to avoid as the frenzied excitement builds to what has become little more than a gay fest …  This year marks the fiftieth anniversary of Abba’s win in Brighton in 1974.  Back then, a competition of some respect, demanding of an audience in evening dress – many singers, too – and actual songs.  Music and lyrics.  No big productions, there was an orchestra and the artist/s would stand alone and sing, free from the compulsory trappings of a gay nightclub – Olly Alexander!  Our great hope, it was to be predicted as, from the get-go, he stated that he planned to make his performance as gay as possible.  Job done but not a hope in hell in winning!  A cod piece and an array of scantily clad men in miniscule shorts only serve to make a forgettable song even more forgettable.  Where’s Cliff when you need him?

What’s Another Year?  Johnny Logan.  Winner in 1980.  A mournful ballad which stands the test of time, I’ve just added it to my ‘Liked Songs’.  Nostalgic, it did no harm that Johnny was the dead spit of Patrick Swayze!  White suit, stool, three backing singers and a saxophonist, that was it.  Ironically, he’d probably still win today with that song, forget the forty-four years.  The longevity of good music …  Sadly, no more Terry Wogan or Ken Bruce these days.  In their place, we have Graham Norton – intelligent sarcasm – Rylan, Scott Mills and Richie Anderson.  None the wiser?  Put it this way, together, they represent a mockery of any diversity legislation.  Age-old.  Four heterosexual males and there’d be an uproar!  To think that the Eurovision Song Contest was one of the highlights of the year when we were growing up for such different reasons.  A night of long frocks and elegance, it really mattered who won.  The UK was represented by the most popular singers at the time and it carried genuine kudos.  None of these old songs are forgotten today.  Look at Abba!  Says it all, really.  How far we have sunk.  I mean, do they even know that Australia is not part of Europe?

Neve fear, it will soon be over for another year and Baby Lasagna will be cooked, eaten and forgotten.  There are rumours that, fifty years on – and the fact that it is in Malmö – Abba may put in an appearance.  Would you?  I would like to see that but, quite honestly, the gulf between Waterloo and Rim Tim Tagi Dim is unfathomable and who needs reminded of it?  Everyone!  So, will I be watching tonight?  Yes, of course.  It’s so bad, one has to watch and the wealth of material is, after all, pure gold!

Change of gear.  This week, it was announced that Astra Zeneca are withdrawing their Covid vaccination from the market.  A commercial decision, apparently.  It never ceases to amaze me how stupid these giant pharmaceutical companies think we are!  The claim is that there is no longer the demand for the Astra Zeneca jab – of which more than three billion dozes were supplied, globally, with nearly fifty million in the UK – as other vaccines targeting the new variants of Covid have superseded it.  Really?  Nothing to do with the number of excess deaths?  Nothing to do with the vaccine damage payments which the Government has been forced to make?  Nothing to do with the number of ongoing court cases pursued by those who have been harmed by the vaccine?  Nothing to do with the fact that, developed in ten months rather than the more typical ten years, it was experimental?  Don’t be silly!  The Astra Zeneca vaccine only caused life-threatening blood clots in a teeny, tiny number of cases.  Teeny, tiny.  So rare.  A case of Russian Roulette, then?  Excellent.  Tell that to the families of those who have died, the many who have been injured – or those who may be living with a ticking time bomb!  Definitely being withdrawn for commercial reasons, though …

Finally …  my weekly gift to you is almost complete.  Once more, a spotlight on a rapidly spiralling world; on the insanity which abounds and the evil which pervades, pursuing riches at the expense of the ignorant and unsuspecting.  Did anyone watch Nigel Palin in Nigeria?  His latest series on Channel 5.  Brilliant, as ever, it was an insight into another world – or was it?  A microcosm depicting great poverty in the shadow of immense greed and exploitation.  Human nature.

Jack Grealish, Man City and England footballer, was fined for speeding this week, caught driving – last summer – at 44mph in a 30mph zone.  He was ordered to pay £666.  Who knew that he earns £300,000/week and that fine represents less than one hour’s wage?  Jealousy?  No, just utter disbelief!  One cannot help but wonder whether God granted man the gift of free will for a reason or was it, in truth, his greatest mistake?

It’s amazing what people will do when offered a huge amount of money.’

Prince Harry

Ever grateful for the gift that is irony!

This is Trish, signing off.