CHELSEA FLOWER SHOW HERE WE COME

OG just reminded me of the day that I was about leave to spend summer in the Alps. He was working on my daughter's swimming pool that day. To help me cope with impending retirement I started writing this blog and had jokingly called my co-workers "the bloodless bottom line committee". Before setting off I called into the office to make sure everything was OK to be met by a maelstrom of PMS women wailing and gnashing their teeth. I had disrepected them. I couldn't believe it. Humour, joke, but they wouldn't be pursuaded. I dash over to consult with a muddy OG. I said I had better not go, he said "nonsense, leave it to me". He calmed things down alright by reminding them that I'm insane and shouldn't be taken seriously. Job done.

Perversly, since this happened and they understand how the blog works they complain that I never write about them. OG said that they missed their opportunity for fame. Oh we do have fun in our office and the crazy thing is that all these years later I am still not completely retired! That'll learn 'em.

But that was then and this is now. In a couple of weeks I go to the Chelsea Flower Show with OG's first wife, their daughter and my mad mate JeanGenius whose claim to fame is that she was the youngest female officer in the Royal Navy. An odd assortment of people you might think and you would be right. The thing that we have in common is that we all enjoy badmouthing OG and appreciate a good drink. So on May 23rd we take the train up to London for a VIP day out. My step-daughter read that it would be best to take a cagoule but I said "if it rains I ain't going to step outside that VIP marquee for anyone, just pour me another drink". Should be fun.

And finally ... solution to the Global Financial Crisis?

It is August. In a small town on the South Coast of France, holiday season is in full swing, but it is raining so there is not too much business happening. Everyone is heavily in debt. Luckily, a rich Russian tourist arrives in the foyer of the small local hotel. He asks for a room and puts a Euro100 note on the reception counter, takes a key and goes to inspect the room located up the stairs on the third floor.

The hotel owner takes the banknote in hurry and rushes to his meat supplier to whom he owes E100.

The butcher takes the money and races to his wholesale supplier to pay his debt.

The wholesaler rushes to the farmer to pay E100 for pigs he purchased some time ago.

The farmer triumphantly gives the E100 note to a local prostitute who gave him her services on credit.

The prostitute goes quickly to the hotel, as she owed the hotel for her hourly room use to entertain clients.

At that moment, the rich Russian is coming down to reception and informs the hotel owner that the proposed room is unsatisfactory and takes his E100 back and departs.

There was no profit or income. But everyone no longer has any debt and the small town people look optimistically towards their future.

COULD THIS BE THE SOLUTION TO THE Global Financial Crisis? Or, is there a catch here ?!!