Tonight:
4°c
The world's most embarrassing rich uncle is having a massive party in L'Aquila, so let's just whizz over to central Italy's earthquake zone to see how things are going.
Look, the Obamas have just arrived in a blaze of yellow sheath dress and gleaming shoulders off Air Force One, and Angela Merkel did a walkabout in the rubble but otherwise nothing is going according to plan — which is as it should be, because there wasn't one.
Auntie Veronica refused to co-host, so Uncle Silvio has asked the Italian president's wife, Clio Napolitano (aged 75, so she's safe), to do the honours.
Still, this hasn't stopped other fragrant wives and VIPs rushing to cancel and drop out, pleading either subsequent engagements or better offers.
Carla Bruni-Sarkozy finds she is far too busy and important to meet the Pope, leaving Sarah Brown to don the mantilla with Mara Carfagna, the former nude model and Miss Italia contestant Mr Berlusconi appointed as Equalities Minister and the chief escort for the First Ladies (you will remember that Berlusconi told Sarah Brown's escort that he'd “marry her tomorrow, if I weren't married already”, which didn'ta go down-a so gooda with his wife, Veronica Lario.)
Moving on! The Chinese leader has flaked, pleading local difficulties, the Americans are grimly aware there is no agenda to speak of, apart from plenary sessions “sulla sicurezza alimentare e” and sessions to “combattere la fame nel mondo,” ie food security and poverty and stuff, and the only people who seem guaranteed to attend are a bunch of anti-capitalist protesters.
In real life rather than politics, when someone's having a bad year, families tend to rally round, blood being thicker than water and all. But the top table of world leaders isn't like that, it seems.
So you've got to feel a little bit sorry for poor Papi. Berlusconi's moment in the sun, the G8 summit, held in a police barracks while helicopters hover overhead in case there's another tremor, has the makings of an intergalactic shambles and no one is rallying round to save the day. Shame.
To me, Berlusconi is a very rich, very successful, self-made man. He owns and controls the media, claro, and supposedly runs the country.
He is a man of many obvious flaws. But at least he's not spent his entire career as a politician, in the tiny Westminster village, like our lot.
As far as I'm concerned, Berlusconi can have as many yachts, Ferraris, palatial homes, hair transplants, fake bakes, young women as he pleases. After all, it's his money.
So when it's Buggin's turn to host the pointless G8 summit (can anyone, truly, remember when anything of any importance was decided at a G8 summit?) it behoves leaders to do the right thing, and indeed the only thing asked of them.
Silvio, who understands like all Italians the importance of la bella figura, and the insignificance of the communiqué, would do the same for them, no questions asked.
Just turn up and smile for the cameras, everyone.
Pitiful pomp for the king of pop
The show didn't start for 15 long minutes, the sound quality was rubbish, the speeches were embarrassing or mad, or both.
Maya Angelou's tribute to Michael Jackson was a mish-mash of cheesy lyrics and then there was Martin Luther King Jnr.
“Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana's Black Star Square, in Johannesburg and Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama, and Birmingham, England, we are missing Michael,” etc etc.
Los Angeles may do celebrity like no other city but Washington DC couldn't even be glitch-free for the first black president (they had to redo the oath, remember).
London clearly has its faults but from Trooping the Colour to bombing memorials, when it comes to ceremonial, our capital is the King of Pomp.
Let's get over people being gay
At the London Portrait Gallery, I found the Gay Icons exhibition very touching and inclusive in its diversity (I do like using these key words).
I went outside, where the Gay Pride caravan was setting up in Trafalgar Square.
I picked up bumf about gays in the workplace from Stonewall, and a guide for lesbians about accessing fertility services.
Then I met my son at Paddington to go on a train to Cornwall. “Take them off!” he said in horror when I hove into sight, emblazoned with badges saying Some People Are Gay and Get Over It.
“You'll get beaten up,” he hissed.
Nothing easy about calling this Jet line
Now to a public service announcement.
For the thousands of Londoners travelling on easyJet this summer and having trouble with the website (ie all of us), I have by a fluke discovered the one thing the company is trying to conceal.
A telephone number that you can call.
Yes, here is the number for the so-called Customer Experience Centre: 0871 244 2366.
It costs 10p a minute and after listening to the options about liquids policy and sports equipment, in order to speak to a human being you just have to say one word. It's “Help”
Reader views (1)
1. Berlusca is a democratically elected prime minister, as opposed to SOMEONE else who isn't elected by anyone. Next election, we'll see!
2. "Claro" is not an Italian word. It's a word that really weird Germans say when holidaying in Spain. Avoid it altogether, or say "Chiaro". Thank you.
3. Carla Bruni can get over herself. She isn't exactly born a saint, either.
- Juma, london, uk, 10/07/2009 13:25
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