Best of Peter Rhodes - Oct 9

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

A FRIEND was presented with a packet of hugely expensive seeds for what, according to the packet, was some gloriously extravagant sub-tropical blossom. The seeds duly rooted and shooted, looked increasingly familiar and have just produced their first tomatoes.

OLYMPICS madness strikes again. It is a global pandemic, infesting one city after another. City A is awarded the games. Lots of men in suits dance around deliriously at the news. The suits proceed to make an awful lot of money, while leaving the taxpayers with a £10,000 million bill. After a couple of weeks of rather pointless running and jumping, the games end and the taxpayers wonder what to do with a second-hand velodrome. But by then City B is overrun by the same madness. Another bunch of suits making lots of money. Another £10,000 million bill. Another second-hand velodrome. Go for it, Rio. You have nothing to lose but your sanity (and your money, of course).

NURSERY worker Vanessa George, perpetrator of some the vilest child abuse ever to come before the courts, sailed through her Criminal Records Bureau check. It is a reminder that CRB checks, in which we invest so much hope, protect us only from one sort of paedophile. The sort who has already been caught.

RENATE Bowling, a 71-year-old widow who fled Communist East Germany as a child, has been convicted of assault by magistrates in Blackpool for prodding a 17-year-old hoodie in the chest with her finger. The hoodie in question had been throwing stones at her window and called her "that ****ing German cow". Mrs Bowling deserves a medal and the hoodie deserves a damn good hiding but that's not how our legal system works. Roll on, sharia law.

RESEARCHERS in Philadelphia believe extra-virgin olive oil could delay dementia. So make a note now on your shopping list: Philadelphia.

FUNNY people, the Irish. They spend 800 years fighting to throw off the yoke of British rule. Then they vote to be governed by Tony Blair.

A READER is furious that Ireland has signed up to the EU's Lisbon Treaty. He says: "If they're going to sell their country, you'd think they would offer us first refusal."

INCIDENTALLY, I don't understand the sudden surprise about Blair being front-runner for the EU Presidency. In June 2007 I wrote: "There is absolutely no mystery about Tony Blair reportedly making approaches to the Catholic Church with a view to becoming a deacon. It is all part of his career plan for the next 20 years: 1) President of Europe, 2) Pope."

THE National Trust is launching its own-brand range of foods, starting with Pembrokeshire potatoes in Asda. And will the ferocious National Trust lady volunteers, those tweed-clad dragons who order us around the Trust's stately homes, be on hand to help us with our purchases?

"No! You're going entirely the wrong way! Come back down that aisle and start again from this side! Thank you."

A terrifying breed.

TINY problem for the Tories in selling us their scheme for a worry-free old age. The plan is that we pay £8,000 to some sort of Government-approved insurance organisation which covers us for all the care we may need. This requires a leap of faith. You have to believe that the organisation you slip £8,000 now will still be around, say, 20 years from now and have the resources to provide care. Remember, we are the cynical, twice-bitten generation who were sold a pup with endowment mortgages and Equitable Life. And even if we bite the bullet and pay in advance for our care, what level of care is on offer? Are we talking de-luxe accommodation in a five-star Bupa home of our choosing? Or are we talking a lean-to annexe at Mrs Miggins's Hostel for Screaming Incontinents? So many questions.

HE WHO laughs last thinks the slowest.

MIND you, there may be something to be said for a gentle dulling of the senses. A disconsolate reader who has been ordered to give up booze on medical grounds offers this bleak description of life as a teetotaller: "You're in a pub and you wonder what they're all laughing about."

AUNTIE Beeb still seems confused about this racism business. Carol Thatcher is sacked for uttering "golliwog" but Anton du Beke refers to his dance partner as a "Paki" and keeps his job. This week, the BBC website asked: "Where would you most like to live?" It prompted many responses including this answer from the Western Isles: "The Isle of Skye without the Sassenachs. I'm lucky to be local." This mean-minded anti-English bigotry stayed on the website for several hours until readers objected and the website moderators removed it. The Beeb is the self-appointed guardian of modern values. A little more consistency, Auntie.

HE WHO laughs last thinks the slowest.

MIND you, there may be something to be said for a gentle dulling of the senses. A disconsolate reader who has been ordered to give up booze on medical grounds offers this bleak description of life as a teetotaller: "You're in a pub and you wonder what they're all laughing about."

THOSE old exam howlers keep coming in. Apparently, Louis Pasteur discovered a cure for rabbis.