Cornflakes and porridge

I grabbed a copy of Metro this morning as I rushed through Highgate Station. The headline jumped out at me; "Hairy Cornflake Faces Porridge." For the benefit of readers from outside the UK, "Hairy Cornflake" is a nickname given to a 1970s radio personality who has been in and out of court on a string of sex offences. He's not a raper or a kiddie fiddler. He's a groper. (Porridge is English slang for jail.)

When will this Operation Yewtree stuff end? I get the Savile thing. He was a horrible man. I furthermore understand the need to go after men who systematically abused children.  But the Hairy Cornflake business is an historic case where the victim was an adult when what occurred occurred. No one deserves to have their breasts groped for fifteen seconds (that's the crime for which he faces jail) and in today's world, that stuff is unacceptable. But people behaved differently in the past. It's time to forgive and forget and focus on the present and future...

Many of you reading will remember my wedding vows drawing reference to an upsetting childhood incident where a group of teenagers stood in a circle, spitting on me, and taking it in turns to call me gay. Teachers at my school were openly homophobic. It was damaging at the time. It affected my development, and frankly, it still sometimes hurts. But I am either evolved or forgiving enough to realise that I was brought up in a different world. People used to be homophobic. They used to be misogynistic and they're not allowed to be anymore. That's the victory of my generation and it's a positive thing. Dave Lee Travis is a dinosaur; a relic from an era where people pinched bums and treated women without respect. Let him die in peace. In thirty years' time, my behaviour will be considered inappropriate by young adults. It already is to an extent. That's what happens. Our moral boundaries shift. We rebel against our parents and reject their values.

And tell me this... If DLT's crimes were as bad as the media suggests, why on earth are they being reported with a series of light-hearted puns? It's either a crime or it's not. Frankly, I think any media involvement completely invalidates a legal investigation. In my mind it's tantamount to corrupting DNA evidence. No one can be expected to have a fair trial once the press has got involved.

I've been in Worthing with PK all day, working our way slowly and forensically through the last movement of the Pepys Motet. It's tiring work, particularly after the early rise which coming here necessitated.  We're slightly over half way through and probably could have carried on for a while had I not been keen to leave to get to Fiona's in a decent time to relax.

Sadly, I arrived at West Worthing station to announcements that all trains were cancelled due to a person under a train, which was dull beyond words, particularly as West Worthing is the sort of station which doesn't have staff to shout at of an evening.

I decided (it turns out quite wisely) to walk to the main station in Worthing. I figured it would be more likely to have staff who could tell me how to get to Fiona's house. I was right. It did.

"How on earth will I get to Hove?" I asked, ready to burst into tears at the gross injustice of the situation.

"Take the next train from platform 2. Four minutes" said the staff person, calmly.

Storm in a teacup! I wondered if the tramp who'd rolled off the bench in his sleep at West Worthing had managed to catch his train.

Fiona cooked delicious food. I will no doubt sleep like the dead.