AFTER he was forced to flee some dismal field in Milton Keynes this week, because no one could hear what his adenoids were saying over the din of 50 tractor horns, Sir Starmer went to a TV studio and said, with a condescending chuckle, that getting NHS waiting lists down was more important than a tax break for farmers.
Because if you go to the shops or to the pub or even the park, you know people are going to stare at you and maybe even say something unpleasant.
When I reached 60, I started to think about those gardening trousers you see in the back of the Daily Telegraph’s colour supplement, and whether I should spend my retirement building a train set or learning how to do watercolour paintings.
You are invited to awards shows where you mingle with other celebrities, you get the best tables in restaurants and you spend half your life on the beach in Dubai, becoming even more orange.
Can you say, hand on heart, that you have never said or done anything which might be deemed, in the court of social media, to be out of order?.
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