Best of Peter Rhodes - May 1

The best of this week's Peter Rhodes column from the Express & Star.

RESEARCH from a university in Indiana suggests that goldfish showed signs of "fear and wariness" after their water was heated. Not exactly conclusive, is it? But even if scientists produced irrefutable proof positive that fish feel pain, if we could somehow hear recordings of fish screaming all the way to the keepnet, angling would remain legal for two good reasons, one religious, the other political. Jesus fished. Four million voters fish.

TOWN twinning dates back to the optimistic post-war years when we thought we liked the French. Some twinnings have not worked out, like the one between Wallingford in Oxfordshire and the French spa town of Luxeuil-les-Bains. After hearing nothing from Luxeuil for 10 years, the council in Wallingford now wants to end the link. But the organising body in Brussels, the Council for European Municipalities and Regions, says there is no procedure for "de-twinning" towns. This is marriage without even the possibility of divorce. Let other towns be warned. A Luxeuil is for life, not just for Noel.

DON'T panic. The ultimate deep-cleansing defence against swine flu is a well-known substance which this Government has in abundance. Hogwash.

FAILING that, oinkment.

APPARENTLY this virus contains a blend of components from human, pig and bird sources. Everyone seems to assume it has evolved naturally. But in the dark days of the Cold War this was precisely the sort of horror pathogen the Reds were supposed to be working on.

I ONCE made a reader almost speechless with fury. It was a column I wrote some years ago and it concerned the behaviour of a rowdy, pushy, greedy, grabbing bunch of pensioners in a Little Chef.

When he rang to complain, the reader could barely get his words out. He was incandescent but among all the hissing and harrumphing, he kept repeating: "Don't you realise the damage you have done?"

My unspeakable crime was to challenge the cherished belief that pensioners are a gentle, sweet-natured and self-sacrificing segment of society who endured two world wars and the Depression. Well, maybe they were once. But as reports from the Odeon cinema in Leicester tell us, times change. A weekly "Senior Screeners" event for pensioners has been spoiled by "unacceptable and at times juvenile behaviour" among the old 'uns including queue-jumping, intimidating ushers and filching pocketfuls of free biscuits.

We should not be surprised. The generation of war veterans is passing away. Do the sums. Today's 70-year-olds were 20 in 1959. A fair number of them were Teddy Boys. How many of them are carrying bicycle chains in the pockets of those beige windcheaters? Teds were trouble in the 1950s and they are trouble now.

All that's missing is a 21st century term for them. How about Teddycodgers?

* AFTER the above item appeared I received a letter from a former Teddy Boy in Jersey, I now wish to apologise and make it clear that there is not a scintilla of truth in my allegations.

I want to put on record that Teddy Boys were a grand bunch of fun-loving lads, mainly concerned with stamp-collecting and helping little old ladies over the road. They were a credit to the nation and hardly ever carried coshes, razors or flick knives, or ripped up cinema seats.

While on this subject I would like to stress my deep admiration of Mods and Rockers who greatly added to the tourism income of Clacton and Brighton and of Hell's Angels, an excellent organisation whose chief interests include flower-pressing and charitable works. I should also mention the Kray Twins who were great favourites of the East End and certainly knew how to keep order.

My outraged ed-Ted correspondent wanted a serious retraction.

When hell freezes over, daddy-oh.

MEANWHILE, a colleague's mother dies and her bank account is frozen for probate. A few days later the council confirms the direct debit on her alarm pendant has been cancelled "Due to: Payer deceased."

The next paragraph begins: "In order to rectify this problem. . . . "

Rectify? She rang to inquire how long the council's services had included resurrection.

Mind you, a housing association in Stafford also has a curious view of death. Its leaflet entitled "I'm Leaving My Home - What Do I Need To Do?" begins:

"All customers must give at least four weeks written notice to terminate their tenancy. There are two exceptions to this:

* Death - two weeks notice is acceptable."

ALAN Bristow, the helicopter pioneer, has died. He was a buccaneering boss whose name should have been immortalised 8,000 miles from home. For when the Falklands War ended, Bristows provided the helicopters to shift men and materials around the islands. Bristows helicopters were seen everywhere in the islands. But in those days squaddies cared more about darts than great industrialists. So no-one in the Falklands ever called the helicopters Bristows. No-one called them Alans. Everyone called them Erics.

SPOTTED in some small ads: "Two buoyancy life jackets as new £50. Two mourning boys £50."