I wrote yesterday of contrasting Spanish/British attitudes when buying something. Right on cue, here's a sentence from David Jackson on a fruitless expedition to El Corte Inglés . . . "By now, I was afflicted with the acute embarrassment that comes over me whenever I take up more than five minutes of a shop assistant's time without buying anything."
I went yesterday afternoon to see my third game of professional football (soccer) in the last month. More than I usually see in a decade. This time it was Celta Vigo, who are vying for promotion into La Primera. Within 35 minutes they were three goals down, with the score rising to 4-0 within five minutes of half time. By then I'd figured out why there were only 9,000 of us in a ground which holds 32,000 but what I couldn't understand is how Celta could be third in the league, with the prospect of playing against the likes of Barcelona next year. It was not much of a pleasure watching them and a fierce wind meant it was physically uncomfortable as well. And then I went and left my bloody umbrella in the ground.
My team, Everton, look like finishing 7th in the Premier League, which - given their atrocious start to the season - is quite respectable. Shame Liverpool have done even better.
On less serious matters, our friend Polly Toynbee in the left-of-centre Guardian seems to be both disappointed and rather upset by Britain's foolish electorate. Click here for the evidence.
So far, so good with my Apple Mac, even if it has taken me four days to figure out what I'm doing that regularly reduces the size of the text. Or "zooms out" in the technical parlance. Now all I have to do is stop doing it. Or to go into Settings. About which I am aways cautious.
Finally . . . If anyone still believes the preposterous theories about the involvement of the parents in the disappearance of Madelaine McCann, they shouldn't read this. Likewise, if you don't believe them but are quick to tears.