Morning:
9°c
Doctor, I've got this Othello complex. Last year, I saw the haunting Chiwetel Ejiofor production at the Donmar, with a silky Ewan McGregor as Iago. Then Kathryn Hunter's RSC Othello came to the Hackney Empire, so we headed there to watch one of the most intriguing new generation of directors working out the Jealous Guy theme.
Then a diligent radio producer phones with a homework list: "And you'll be seeing Lenny Henry in Othello in Leeds" So off up the M1 for my second date with Desdemona in a week.
Lenny turns out to be not at all bad for a first-time Shakespeare performer, though the audience seems so supportively nervous on his behalf that they laugh in the most inappropriate places: "Not dead yet?" Ha ha, he's a real larf is the murderous Moor.
Hunter's is miles better as a production: irreverent, physical and scary, which makes up for the fact that Hunter is a bit PC, in the "All wars are honour killings" vein. Both versions are still touring, Hunter's in Oxford this week, so you can judge for yourself.
Back home for a night in, I prod the senior son to watch a bit of the Shakespeare boxed set we got for Christmas. Pick a play: any play: there are 37 to choose from. "Let's have the one about that jealous man and the hanky," he says.
* Nick Clegg has just joined the club of three. As a trio parent myself, let me give Mr and Mrs C some early advice. Accept that there will never be enough parent power/hall space/bathrooms/ crayons/attention to go round. Stop considering long-haul flights, because the collective cost will be the size of Gordon's deficit. Smart weekend lunch invitations are in inverse proportions to the number of children you have, because people with proper wallpaper are scared off by anything more than a pigeon pair. No need to care though: you'll be too tired to go out anyway.
The animals went in two by two for a reason. But three's lots more fun.
* Women wars at the heart of Labour: Harriet Harman is elbowing to take over from Gordon, Hazel Blears, intervenes with a feisty little speech directly opposing Hattie's equality fetish. Both were kind enough to answer a seminal question we put to them in the Standard some time ago: how much is it OK to spend on a handbag? "£50," said Harman. "About £250," said Hazel. Views vary sharply on this; but I find it difficult to vote for a woman who voluntarily caps her handbag allowance so low as to preclude a well-made lining.
