Diplomacy

I guess he did not include beetroot in his diet

I once asked a Scottish Minister whereabouts in England he came from.  Such a faux pas could have been excusable, at a stretch, had the Minister not been wearing a kilt, a Sporran and no doubt a Skean Dhu tucked into his sock he was itching to use.  Even Marcia had twigged the guy was definitely not English.

Marcia and I had been invited to the Queen’s birthday celebrations at the British Embassy and the Ambassador was kind enough to introduce us to the Minister.   A UK politician.  You can imagine how I danced on tippy toes sucking in and out of a paper bag to cure my palpitations.  I don't suppose I will ever again get the chance to apologise to the Ambassador for not taking the introduction seriously.

We all, in our time, ask stupid questions and are in turn sometimes asked stupid questions and have different ways of dealing with them.  In this case, the Minister diplomatically took it as a joke and merely said, ‘Aye, right!’ and laughed it off but the Ambassador knew I’d spent too much time at the cocktail bar again.

Here in Angola, the question I am most often asked to answer is how, in my opinion, such a small island as Britain could end up dominating half the known world.  Well, it is quite simple, really.  A chap called Robert Moray pulled together an unlikely alliance of former Parliamentarians and Royalists and after the Restoration secured royal patronage for a society dedicated to the philosophical study of the sciences whose initial, but unstated aim was to improve the King’s Navy, especially the means to determine Longitude and improve ship design so that Britain could kick the Dutch in their herrings and dominate world trade…

Much later…

…and with access to all these natural resources, both domestic and international, Britain was able to kick start the industrial revolution and with an efficient Navy was able to extend its influence across the globe and ensure that any colonies with nascent notions of independence were subdued lest there be another tea party…

Much, much later…

The guy is standing there friendly as anything just trying to break the ice, I’m not going to bore him to death with a considered answer.

‘Comfortable furniture,’ I usually say and then, sensing the bewilderment of my interrogator add, ‘especially chairs.  A chap cannot be expected to formulate the means to exploit original thought unless he is comfortable enough to consider them. 

An African assimilating post prandial positive thoughts in my battered old English chair.
He's only three P's short of getting it right.

There can be no doubt.  I am getting bloody cynical, worse than usual. 
Let's just cut the bloody toe off and have done with it.
Leave me with enough leg to have a leg over.
I just want a decent night's sleep.
I'll confess to anything. 
I shot Kennedy and I can still remember where I buried Jimmy Hoffa.
I just want to sleep.