So it is with the utmost admiration that I must congratulate Mick Jagger – a dad again at the ripe old age of 73. I’m sure his great granddaughter, 2, will look forward to some play dates with the new addition.
Is Jagger too old to be a dad again, I asked my Twitter followers. “If you still have it in you…” came one response.
There was no such acceptance of Madonna twerking on James Corden’s Carpool Karaoke though, not from Piers Morgan at least. “I feel slightly nauseous,” Morgan declared at 6am on Tuesday. “Does anyone have a bucket?” With you on the TV at that time in the morning, Piers? Of course!
Sure, a great granddad of 73 sewing his oats is absolutely fine, something to be lauded in fact. But a 58 year-old-woman acting like a clown on a comedy show (I mean, really?!) is an absolute disgrace. “She makes my skin crawl,” Morgan concludes. Touché, Piers.
Not even a hint of double standards there…
Incidentally I’ve been enjoying the BBC’s 100 women campaign this week. On Thursday there was a feature from Iceland, reportedly the best country in the world to be a working woman. Over there they have 40% female representation on company boards, and half of the MPs are women too. Apparently the government took a decision several decades ago to make it easier for women to forge a career, subsidising childcare among other things. Now there’s an idea.
The programme asked for examples of inspirational women. I felt like nominating Gina Miller, who has brought to the courts the case for Parliament to vote on how the UK should leave the EU. Miller has raised the point, rightly in my view, that Parliament should vote on how the formal process of Brexit should take place. It’s a reasonable question, but instead of civilised debate, Miller has encountered vile Twitter trolls who have threatened to rape and kill her. Nice, that.
The irony is we’ve voted as a country to leave the EU so that political decisions like this can be taken by our own Government. So why wouldn’t we want matters like this debated and decided by Parliament? Curious times.
If you’d forgotten Christmas is just around the corner, the story of avian flu approaching our shores from Europe should’ve given you a clue. A bout of bird flu is almost as common as posting a photo of your Christmas tree on Facebook (or this year’s fad of the naughty little elf – still no idea what that’s all about). Farmers have been instructed to keep their birds inside for 30 days to try and prevent them contracting the virus.
“Well, my turkeys are off to get plucked in a few days, so it doesn’t really matter either way!” declared one bullish farmer from Essex. He might as well have executed one of those delicious, plump-breasted poultry live on air. I feel like I’ll have his words ringing in my head when I sit down for dinner on 25 December.
“Hmm, with this bird-flu-riddled turkey you’re really spoiling us, mother!”
Mum is cooking this year. That’s a fact, not just a crude stereotype. And I’ll be there alongside her in the kitchen, cooking my ‘Sprouts Mexicane’, as the late, great Rik Mayall might have called them (sprouts fried with bacon and cashew nuts – which are, indeed, the nuts).
I’m a new man, me…
“I can’t believe you didn’t cry, Dad,” my son said to me last Sunday, moments after he’d crushed my little finger in the car boot. I learnt the true meaning of love that day – not killing him for doing that.
Bless. Sir Mick has it all to come – again. I’m sure wild horses wouldn’t drag him away.