So many high-profile people have been quitting their jobs recently.
Piers Morgan, the anchorman; Edwin Poots, the leader of the Democratic Unionist Party; Swedish premier Stefan Löfven. They all headed for the exit in the last while. There was someone else too. Oh wait, it was… no, it’s gone.
Javid had enough in his previous job, so he resigned. But when Boris called at the end of last week, he changed his mind and re-signed. See what I did there?
Then there was that guy from the health ministry. Oh, what was his name? Got it. Professor Chezy Levy, the health director tasked with fighting coronavirus, thinks Israel is not doing enough about tackling the Delta variant. So he quit that country’s health ministry. Would that kind of principled decision to walk happen here?
Well, there was Sajid Javid. Didn’t he quit a year or two back when Dominic Cummings tried to get him to sack some of his staff? Guess what, he’s back.
Now our brand new health secretary, it seems he is the latest going out the front door on an outpouring of praise for their selflessness and public-spiritedness, waiting a decent interval then skulking round the back and somehow slipping in the back door.
It’s all about the hyphen in the contract of employment. Javid had enough in his previous job, so he resigned. But when Boris called at the end of last week, he changed his mind and re-signed. See what I did there?
Missing the classic Robinson rudeness
Right, that’s enough about resignations for one week. That is not the depressing stuff you want with your morning Lorne sausage. Anyone got a new job? Well there’s Anne Robinson.
Remember her from The Weakest Link? That acid-tongued harridan who belittled contestants when they admitted they were analysts, researchers or had some other boring job. She is now chairing Countdown. You are the weakest letter arranger, goodbye.
There are many people of her years still doing a very fine job. It’s about capability. She’s a year older than Donald Trump and what a marvellous job that particular Son of Hebridean Woman is doing.
I probably expected too much of the old Robinson rudeness on her Monday afternoon debut. That show has never been a format for put-downs and mickey-taking. Despite the wretched hype about Robinson, we didn’t get it.
Like the gears on my first minivan, Anne became disengaged far too much for my liking. Tight editing saw only one crack at an accountant’s boring job make it to air. Anne looked vacantly around too much for someone to prompt her but Rory Bremner in Dictionary Corner for the occasion… didn’t.
Maybe she was looking for secret documents about the movements of Type 45 destroyers, like HMS Defender. These papers may not be in a Channel 4 studio, but she may find them in a wet heap behind a bus stop. At least, that’s where they were found in Kent.
Live music is back for weddings and… funerals?
In interviews, Robinson admits not knowing how long she can present Countdown for but points out that Mary Berry, at 86, has 10 years on her and is still on TV. Mary, though, has not lost her past Bake Off enthusiasm for critiquing a male contestant’s not-quite-spherical confections with a deeply-wounding: “You have irregular-shaped balls”, as she continues her crusade against all manner of soggy bottoms.
That’s what Scottish wedding guests will have for the foreseeable. Nicola has announced live music can return to events like receptions, funerals, that sort of thing. Funerals? That’s a good idea, Nic. We need more jollity as we bid farewell to the dearly departed in this dour country. Get the melodeons out. Yay.
There’s a catch though. Although live music is back at events, thou shalt not dance. Only performers on stage can sing, and dancing is banned. No dancing at a Scottish wedding? In one fell swoop, Nicola has made wedding guests behave like dyed-in-the-wool Free Presbyterians.
Finally, we saw that resignation letter from the health secretary at the weekend. Ex-politicians say these published formal letters are just for the public and the actual “I Quit” letters are never made public. Maybe his was like the one penned by a wee Glaswegian granny called Marlene who quit her cleaning job a few years back.
Afterwards, her resignation letter was put on social media by family. Marlene had described her “joab” as “an insert bad word here”, and added: “am leaving”.
She then said: “I’ll no be back after June 30. Canny wait. Good luck in getting some other mug to clean the place.”
