A panther that is positively pink

If I was to say Pink Panther what's the first thing that comes into your mind? A priceless diamond? A bumbling French detective? Peter Sellers? Henry Mancini? A panther pink from head to toe? Or maybe all of the above? 

The Pink Panther film and animation franchise begat by Blake Edwards in 1963 threw up (courtesy of the aforementioned Mr. Mancini) one of the most memorable film scores ever. We can all recognise the iconic tune after hearing just the first four notes; that's because it's hard wired into our brains. Another name you could have thrown into the mix is Tubby Hayes. Legendary UK jazzer Edward Brian Hayes, whilst not present on the original recording (the lead sax part you hear in the film was played by the American musician Plas Johnson), did play it live on UK TV in 1964 with the Henry Mancini Orchestra and, as they say, made it his own. The whole performance (all three minutes, ten seconds of it) is, I hope you'll agree, a thing of  beauty.

Henry Mancini (1924-1994)

Peter Sellers (1925-1980)

Tubby Hayes (1935-1973)

On message

Unless you live in the middle of nowhere you'll never really experience true darkness. Light pollution is everywhere seemingly. Tho' we did struggle walking back from the pub to our Devon digs recently. I wouldn't have lasted five minutes in the War. When we were fighting The Hun a blackout meant just that: no streetlights, no torches, no escaping light from any building was allowed whatsoever. You'd have had the ARP Warden, Mr. Hodges, on your case faster than you could say Dad's Army. Lucky then, that we had London Transport on hand to dispense some sage advice. The above sign was part of a raft of information the government were putting out there to help the war effort. I'm not a war historian but I do enjoy reading about the social history of the period and in particular the messaging (some may say propaganda) that was prevalent at the time. The Bright/Dark poster jumped out at me in a book I'm currently reading about the history of the London Transport roundel. More to follow, but not, as I say, in a World at War type way. Put that light out!

Drinking from the cup of Bob Knob

One of the reasons I stepped away from my local book club was because I found it was taking up time I then no longer had to read my own, ever increasing, pile of books. The phrase too many books, too little time has certainly never been truer; though as I'm currently on gardening leave I should be able to rattle through some of the backlog.

At the moment I'm engrossed in The Long Shoe by Bob Mortimer. It's the second of his that I've tackled (The Satsuma Complex being the first) and am loving the reading experience it affords me. Let's face it, story lines about blokes in shiny suits who sell taps for a living are never going to disappoint.

Surprise Chef - Drinking From the Cup of Bob Knob (2019)

It's like a maze: it just goes on and on

I saw Backrooms last week. What a film. James had already seen it a couple of days earlier and said ''It's made for you, dad.'' It's a horror movie but not in a gratuitous kind of way. It's a liminal exploration into what defines memory and feelings of isolation - all mixed with a side helping of full-on creepiness. OK, if I had only 10 words to describe it to you - imagine walking into a maze you can never escape from. I watched it on my own in a room full of strangers and none of us barely exhaled, let alone coughed or rustled a crisp packet; a more reverential audience you'd struggle to find. In fact so intense was the experience I couldn't believe that we'd all sat transfixed for an hour and forty five minutes making zero noise. Catch it if you can.

Backrooms - Trailer (2026)

Give us three rings

By the mid-90s the UK was fast running out of phone numbers. The telephone exchanges couldn't cope. Something had to be done. So one day a telecom boffin in a white coat with a load of pens sticking out of his top pocket said ''Stick a '1' after the zero and you'll be sorted.'' So that's what they did -  Norwich went from 0603 to 01603, Northampton 0604 to 01604 etc. But that wasn't the end of it. Oh no. On PhONEday - yes the UK had its very own switchover date (16 April 1995 - I'm surprised Oasis never wrote a song about it) - not only did everyone 'stick a 1 in front' but five cities were assigned totally new codes altogether. And I should know, I was living in one of 'em: Nottingham had to bin off its erstwhile 0602 and learn a whole new way of going on. We became 0115 and we had to stick a 9 in front of the old number; there never were such times.

Someone else who joined us in these phone shenanigans was Leeds. They became 0113 (from their trusty 0532) and they had to stick a '2' in front of their old number.  Looking at some of the painted junction boxes in Leeds last week I wouldn't be surprised if there are people still in therapy over this.

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They also served

Sheffield: 0114 (0742)

Leicester: 0116 (0533)

Bristol: 0117 (0272)