The most recent post to Stephen Fry’s blog consists of this recent speech ~ to whom, he doesn’t say, probably broadcasters or policy wonks.
First, I should say that, as a speechwriter myself, I would kill to be able to write something like this ~ cogent, funny, never loses sight of the point. Marvellous, but I would expect nothing less from Fry.
Second, it brought back such memories because I, too, was brought up on a diet of BBC radio. I remember all the names and loved all the programmes he mentions. To this day, I get funny looks from my Canadian sailing buddies, who were not fed a diet of The Navy Lark with their pablum, when I yell “Left hand down a bit!” to the helmsman.
He writes: When I was 7 my parents moved house. Well, we all moved house as a family, I donâ€™t mean my parents left me behind, though who would blame them if they had?
My parents, and the rest of our family, moved house when I was 7 years old, and they really did leave me behind. I came home from school and found the front door open and the house stripped of its contents. Our next door neighbour saw me sitting on the doorstep, sobbing, and pointed out that they had only moved across the square on which we lived. To their dying days, my parents insisted they did tell me about the move, but I paid no heed because my nose was usually stuck in a book. To my dying day, I’ll have my doubts about that . . .