At the time of writing - at least, my brother-in-law is still with us. Quite an astonishing feat for a man handed a three-day sentence a month ago. If there was ever a concrete example of mind over matter, this is it. The oncologists are flummoxed, the nurses delighted, and the finance committee considering commissioning Norman Foster to build a new wing from the proceeds of our family's car park fees ... which I shall rant about at a later date.
Of course, it can't last. The phoney war will soon be over, and the daily routine - which now feels entirely normal, will come crashing down - barring of course, rushed through legislation for full body transplants, or, as in the film A Matter of Life and Death, there has actually been a cock-up in the records department.
Having lived 'in sin' for twenty-six years, seventeen of those as proud parents, he finally made an honest woman of my sister ... honest-ish I'd have to say. As has been featured in the news recently, the whole partners/spouses issue remains a horribly grey area - although I do think love came into their decision to splice, somewhere along the line.
Anyway, before much longer, the likes of eBay and Amazon may well crash. The market for rare books about Francis Bacon having written the Shakespeare plays will nosedive, and Mojo magazine will notice a dip in circulation. Should the Gauloise tobacco company, Rizla or Stella Artois wish to send floral tributes for the untimely departure of a fine customer, they can be sent to the Guardian, Blogs Department, Sub-Basement 23.
