My finger, as ever, is on the political pulse of the nation. No sooner do I finish a blog about Marc Bolan (high politics in the extreme) than I launch into a blog about our esteemed Home Secretary, John Reid. Today, Dr Reid announced he will stand down at the same time as Blair. Aw, isn't that nice of him to give Brown the chance to get some new blood into the Cabinet?
My claim to fame with Dr Reid is that he likes me. Well, he kept looking at me and smiling when I attended a meeting at the Home Office which he chaired in December last year. I couldn't work out why he kept looking at me. We were sitting round tables without modesty boards and my legs were outstretched. Now, much as I think I might have nice legs (in a certain light and with the curtains drawn) I doubt he was admiring them. What could it have been?
I went on from that meeting to have dinner with colleagues from work and, when I recounted my puzzlement at the meeting, a colleague referred to my socks. It hadn't quite occurred to me that I was wearing 'power socks' (I tend to wear 'power socks' when I'm meeting ministers or do public speaking or interviews or wotnot). These particular socks were decorated with hoops of every known colour (and some unknown colours) around them and would've been plainly seen under the table as my suit trousers rode up slightly in the seated position.
Is there a word for sock connoisseur? If so, Dr Reid must be one.
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