Here are the gumboots you ordered, Madam

Further mature reflection revealed that not only is a trip to Whitstable out of the question as part of a weekend in East Anglia (there are insurmountable obstacles, such as the Thames estuary), but staging a performance art event of my own following a Church of England ordination would not be practical either. Having abandoned that idea the Dude and I did the next best thing and watched the whole of Reggie Perrin Series One on video. Nobbs writing is sublime. It appeared surreal and overstated at the time, but now many of the scenes he suggested (the ridiculous excuses for rail delays, 24 hour helplines that have no-one available, the management speak) and the speech mannerisms given to the characters (unlikely tabloid headlines; “cock up on the catering front”; or “I’m a fish person” – it’s not just me, is it?) are part of everyday life. The series ends with Reggie at his own memorial service, and, after Alan Bennett in “Beyond the Fringe”, one of the best comic sermons ever , delivered by one of the best TV vicars ever, Gerald Sim. And so to bed. Great! Super!