Matters of principle

01/24/2005

An overcast Monday morning, but at least it is dry and cold with light frost and the air still flowing from the North West. I usually spend Monday morning on the phone going through a list of people who have not returned my calls in the previous week. It is regrettable that my position does not protect me from this new level of rudeness. If one promises to return a call, it is sheer bad manners not to do so. My blood pressure rises during the morning in proportion to the outrageous excursuses offered for failure, normally blame is passed from person to person, the fall guy is usually maimed, injured, lost or just hiding. The phrase “In a meeting” is still used in Argyll, although it has been laughed out of court in the rest of the country! I recall the day that my father challenged an Oban planning officer to a duel. The planner refused on the grounds that he did not possess suitable flintlock weapons! My father offered a loan of the third Baron’s magnificent Spencers, eventually the planning department called the police and there was one hell of a stushie. My incoming telephone line offered several lottery wins and opportunities for exotic holidays, but annoyingly a call from the Golf Club Secretary carried an anonymous complaint from a member about dearest Dotty allowing some of her Lab/Collie crosses to disturb a needle match, ending in a game being abandoned in a melee of barking and shouting. I suppose a challenge of honour is not on the cards, although the Spencer’s are always ready! A letter of resignation is in the post, but what a silly fuss. A restorative is called for and I shall cheer Dotty up with witty yarns in front of the Great Fireplace, Ardbeg in hand, and buttocks to the heat. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.