Post 356. EVERYONE'S GOT A BOOKCASE.

TO SIT IN FRONT OF.

When they're on television.

Have you noticed? Could you help but notice? Each of 'em has a bookcase to plonk 'emself in front of: even the buggers you sense have never read right through a book in their entire celebrity lives.

I believe the techno nerds who know all about resizing an image (don't look at me) are already picking the titles off books on the shelves behind this diverse bunch of often unlikely academics. Gawdawmighty!

Time to join the club, though, I thought. Get yourself looking a bit educated, Den. Sit yourself down before one of the bookcases in the living room and get your grandson, aided by his grandmother's ipad, to take a 'this is me at home' picture.

So there you are. You don't need be a television 'celebrity.' All you need is a bookcase and a grandson: and a, prefererably eclectic, selection of books.

In case anybody cares, up there behind me on the top shelf is a handful of WW2 ego trips by Winston Churchill (warmongering politician, decent writer), a selection of titles by wonderful novelist Mary Wesley, an Oxford English dictionary, and a 'let's keep it all tidy' miscellany of fillers (don't ask).

On the shelf below that are the complete Harry Potter (and some other) books by J.K. Rowling, the His Dark Materials (and some other) books by Philip Pullman, The Once and Future King by T.H. White, There's a Boy in the Girls' Bathroom by Louis Sachar and my old friend the late George Woodman's Taken at the Flood (which should perhaps be in another bookcase but books get shifted in this house). I won't bore you with any more name dropping. Suffice it to say I have actually read all the books on those shelves written by those authors. I have not just been photographed in front of that particular bookcase because some smart-arse television producer said: “You sit there, Dennis, it'll look more like you're knowledgeable.” If I sound grouchy it's because I am bloody grouchy.

It is not lockdown and it is not

TELEVISION.

Which started unusually well this week.

Sunday evening kicked off with the BBC Young Musician 2020 Keyboard Category final which was won by sixteen-year-old pianist Thomas Luke (above), an Isle of Wight lad. Hurray!

No question the choice was right. One of the judges was the renowned pianist Peter Donohoe (below) and if he says you're the winner, you're the winner.

My evening concluded with:

The last ever episode of Homeland in which arguably the worst mother in the world, Carrie Mathison (she wouldn't pose for a picture), single-handedly averted WW3 and suitably rounded off her career as a spy for Saul Berenson by becoming... guess what?

Ho-hum.

Bye-bye, Carrie.

That's it for now.