Guilty

I watched an interesting programme last night.

It was simply called "Guilty". Stephen Fry, chatting to an unseen and unheard interviewer, confessed his guilty love for a number of things. In his long list he included Abba, the television series Howard's Way (but mainly for the shouty-school-of-acting portrayed therein), darts, Delia Smith and Farley's rusks.

Mr. Fry also, it seems, enjoys a good swear. "The sort of twee person who thinks swearing is in any way a sign of a lack of education or of a lack of verbal interest is just f***ing lunatic. Or they say, 'It's not necessary.' As if that should stop one doing it. Things not being necessary is what makes life interesting." Mr. Fry certainly does not lack education or verbal interest, that's for sure. If I had one tenth of his command of the English language I'd be pretty blooming happy. And that's swearing!

I recall some years ago a radio programme in which Stephen Fry spoke about British vs American English. One topic discussed was emphasis, in which he referred to the outlaw Robin Hood. Now, we Brits say "Robin Hood" (emphasis on surname), whilst our American chums say "Robin Hood" (emphasis on first name). To paraphrase Mr. Fry, it's as if an American wants to tell you about one of the many thousands of Mr. Hoods in existence, and places the emphasis on Robin just to make sure you know who they are talking about. To any American friends who may be reading this, it is by no means a criticism; merely an observation. In many ways, American linguistics are far more sensible than ours over here. Think about it; what best decribes the thing we walk on by the roadside? Pavement or sidewalk? And the bit of the car that we put stuff in - boot or trunk? One tip - if you need to erase a written mistake, don't ask an American for a rubber. Or ask if they would like some ginger nuts.

And what about American spelling? Honor, mold, center, catalog; all eminently sensible, but they wouldn't give you as big a score as the English versions when playing Scrabble.

I seem to have strayed somewhat from my topic. Guilty pleasures. We all have them. Even me. OK, so I've done a few Carpenters' albums in my time. I've watched and enjoyed The Little House on the Prairie (and Howard's Way, so Mr. Fry and I would have something to talk about, should we ever meet). Every now and then I get a craving for a microwaveable chicken tikka masala, despite the fact that it has enough fat and salt to supply the recommended daily intake for an entire battalion of soldiers. Oh, and I still have a fascination for aircraft, albeit I don't stand at the end of a runway with a pad, pencil and flask.

Guilty pleasures, anyone?