Stop the World, I Want to Get Off...

by Iain Hollingshead

  Stop the World,

  I Want to Get Off…

  Unpublished Letters to

  EDITED BY

  IAIN HOLLINGSHEAD

  SIR — My garden is being overrun by slugs in the wet weather. Is there anything that will divert them away from my plants?

  As a non-gardener I am not really interested in the answer; I just want to get the Telegraph letters back on track after the EU referendum.

  Timothy Lee

  Kenilworth, Warwickshire

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  Family Life and Tribulations

  A Year in Politics

  The Use and Abuse of Language

  Box Gogglers

  Travelling Hopefully

  Sporting Triumph and Disaster

  Home Thoughts on Abroad

  Royal Blushes

  Dear Daily Telegraph

  P.S.

  INTRODUCTION

  Does life go on after Bowie, Brexit and Downton Abbey? Looking back through the seven previous introductions to the books in this series, I notice that I have said on more than one occasion that it has been a busy and eventful year for Telegraph letter writers. Now, of course, I wish I had kept my powder dry for 2016. A week used to be a long time in politics; at times this year an hour has seemed an aeon. Stalwart contributors to the letters page discovered that a pithy opinion dashed off during breakfast was out of date by elevenses. To give you a sense of the scale of change, back at Easter we received a flippant letter (ploughing the familiar furrow that the best way to be published by the editor is to flatter the editor), suggesting that the country would be better run by Telegraph journalists than by career politicians. One of the letter’s more ridiculous suggestions included the appointment of Boris Johnson as Foreign Secretary. No doubt it remained unpublished as it was seen as far too far-fetched, even as a joke.

  Humour has been in short supply in the news this year, so I hope you find the wicked wit of Telegraph letter writers a welcome tonic. Competition to appear in these pages has been especially fierce: in the immediate aftermath of the Brexit vote, the newspaper received over 1,000 letters every day, a figure unparalleled since the MPs’ expenses scandal. Why, they wondered, couldn’t the EU operate freedom of movement along similar lines to a Waitrose car park? Why wasn’t The Archers as gripping as the Westminster soap opera? Less whimsically, the readers were on particularly fine form during the referendum campaign itself, treating the twin imposters of Project Fear and the Be-Leavers with equal disdain. Indeed, I would venture that there is more genuine insight in these pages than we saw in any number of televised debates or learned commentaries (although perhaps you will be grateful that I have spared you the half-dozen correspondents who attempted a variation on Hamlet’s soliloquy: “To Leave or Not to Leave?”).

  Of course, while Brexit has dominated the news agenda, there has been far more to the year than politics. Telegraph correspondents have been on hand to provide their own refreshing take on every event under the sun, whether attempting to read the handwriting on striking doctors’ placards or suggesting a new cockney rhyming slang in honour of Andy Murray’s second Wimbledon victory. Roy Hodgson, Sir John Chilcot, David Cameron, Chris Evans and Lord Grantham have all been shown out of the tradesman’s entrance with varying degrees of sadness, making way for the likes of Donald Trump and Boaty McBoatface. Add to this the readers’ perennial off-beat thoughts on everything from sex to gardening; the perils of growing old, fat, drunk and unfashionable; the pain of broadcasters’ mangling of the English language; the cross words of puzzle enthusiasts; and the disaster that ensued when one man gave up his seat on the London Underground for a blind person — and you have, I hope, a very readable review of the year, in all its dubious glory.

  It is always such a pleasure to pick up my red pen and see what the readers have come up with over the year. As ever, my grateful thanks to all our loyal correspondents, as well as to everyone at Aurum and the Telegraph, in particular Kate Moore on the letters desk, who mined mountains of missives with consummate skill, a keen eye and a ready wit. However mad the world might seem, however tempted one might be to hop off for a while, hopefully this collection is a reminder that the ride taken in good company is always a fascinating one.

  Iain Hollingshead

  London SE22

  FAMILY LIFE AND TRIBULATIONS

  SEASONS’ GREETINGS PILE

  SIR — I have received a lengthy round-robin Christmas message from someone called Peg. I haven’t a clue who she is, but if she reads the Telegraph, could I wish her a rapid recovery from her recent haemorrhoid operation.

  Ian McDougle

  Farnham Common, Buckinghamshire

  SIR — We have received an unsigned Christmas card which says: “Hope you are well. I just keep taking the tablets.”

  As we are now in an older age group, this criterion covers about 98 per cent of our acquaintances. I guess we will just have to wait until next Christmas to find out if the tablets are still working.

  Wendy Strathdee

  Burnham, Buckinghamshire

  SIR — I have thought Christmas to be overrated for more years than I care to remember, but last night really brought me to breaking point. Why do frying pans not come ready gift-wrapped?

  Tim Bradbury

  Northwich, Cheshire

  SIR — When walking around Bath last Christmas I came across a health food shop advertising just the present for the person who has everything: “Colonic irrigation; Gift vouchers available.”

  Nigel Day

  Frome, Somerset

  SIR — The RSPCA is telling people not to dress up their dogs at Christmas as it leaves them scared, worried and unable to express themselves. Now they know how it feels to get a novelty Christmas jumper.

  P.C.

  Northampton

  SIR — It is so unfair to have a birthday at Christmas. I would like to suggest a ban on all sexual activity from, say, March 15 to March 31.

  Diana Whiteside

  Berkhamsted, Hertfordshire

  DAILY DELIGHTS

  SIR — At the age of 76 I am delighted to learn from your newspaper that a daily orgasm could significantly reduce my chances of developing prostate cancer. Would two a day improve my odds further, or does the law of diminishing returns apply?

  M.G.P.

  Northwood, Middlesex

  SIR — Now they tell us!

  Robert Hood-Wright (in receipt of Winter Fuel Allowance)

  Nanstallon, Cornwall

  SIR — My husband, on learning from The Daily Telegraph that happily married couples made love just once a week, wistfully commented: “Please could we be an unhappily married couple?”

  Susan Jones

  Halesowen, West Midlands

  SIR — It was somewhat unsettling to read that cat owners have sex twice a week and dog owners three times a week. At one time I owned five dogs and eight cats. When I walked the dogs I was met with cheerful waves from passers-by. Now I’m rather embarrassed at what they might have been smiling about.

  Lesley Thompson

  Lavenham, Suffolk

  SIR — I see that wolf-whistling is to be treated as a hate crime by Nottinghamshire Police.

  When l was nine months pregnant with my daughter, l was wolf-whistled in the street by a passing lorry driver.

  It made my day. I felt less like an elephant and more like a human being.

  Jill Gibb

  Deeping St James, Lincolnshire

  SIR — My first wife would turn around and go back for seconds if she heard a wolf-whistle.

  C.W.

  Alderminster, Warwickshire

  SIR — Your corresp
ondent’s romantic hideaway sleeping three reminds me of the rules of a Chinese hotel I stayed in on business back in the 1980s. Among the many banned items on the list in the room were “wrestling” and “lascivious thoughts”.

  That really put paid to my down-time.

  David Brown

  Lavenham, Suffolk

  SIR — On a recent cruise I was talking to a spritely old widow lady who asked: “What does SAGA stand for?”

  Jokingly, I replied, “Sex and Games for the Aged.”

  Wistfully she murmured, “If only.”

  Terry Morrell

  Willerby, East Yorkshire

  SIR — I am 80, a widow, and in the process of shortening some of my clothes because my boyfriend says I have good legs.

  D.P.

  Sutton Coldfield, West Midlands

  SIR — A very proper old lady of my acquaintance was heard to say, some years ago now, “I do like bananas. But I can’t eat them.”

  The alternative uses have been the subject of much speculation ever since.

  Pete Townsend

  Bristol

  SIR — Now that oysters are the same price as cod fish fingers, how are we to choose which of the two aphrodisiacs to serve for a given romantic encounter?

  Neil Sewell-Rutter

  Oxford

  SIR — If a regular glass of red wine and plenty of fruit are supposed to improve one’s sex life in middle age, how is it that the only benefit I have gained is a painful case of gout?

  David Jepson

  Derby

  SIR — The claim made for the benefits of a diet rich in red wine and fruit is rash. After copious amounts of Shiraz during the festive period and liberal use of my new zappy juicer I have come out in urticaria.

  This look will not drive anything, especially sex — unless you like your men well red.

  David Parker

  Rhayader, Powys

  SIR — You report that Britain’s oldest tree, the Fortingall Yew in Perthshire, appears to be undergoing a sex change as it is developing the red berries associated with the female yew. As I approach my 62nd year, I too am developing red berries. Should I be worried?

  Alistair Donald

  Stirling

  SIR — Regarding your article about ogling rugby players I have to confess that, even at the advanced age of 75, I still like to see a nice pair of shoulders and strong thighs. My first thought, though, on seeing these muscular heroes is always: Thank goodness I don’t have to feed them.

  Lois Quinn

  Coventry

  TRANSUBSTANTIATION

  SIR — My wife eats twice as much as I do, yet she is slim and I am overweight. I put it down to trans fats: she transfers her fat to me each night while I am asleep.

  Tony Cowan

  Elgin, Moray

  SIR — Paul Hollywood says that losing weight is not rocket science. He’s right: it’s far more difficult.

  Richard Amies

  Weybourne, Norfolk

  SIR — With the obesity problem worsening every day, Squeezy Belly Alley in Port Isaac seems aptly named.

  Jane Cullinan

  Padstow, Cornwall

  SIR — With the proposed introduction of a sugar tax, will the substitution of alternative sweeteners by soft drink companies be regarded as tax evasion?

  James Nuthall

  Epsom, Surrey

  SIR — Maybe the “civilised” world is getting its comeback. After our “heroes” Drake, Raleigh etc. brought back sugar and tobacco, along with slaves, we now find ourselves dying from smoking-related diseases and obese and ill from too much sugar.

  Just desserts?

  Ann Baker

  Wilcove, Cornwall

  SIR — As far as I recall I should now be drinking each day: three glasses of fruit juice; three cups of coffee; and three to five cups of tea, having fried my breakfast eggs and bacon in butter.

  Is this all correct or should I be eating a portion of fish twice a week to improve my memory?

  Captain Roger Gorst RN (retd)

  Pucklechurch, Gloucestershire

  SIR — It would appear that, whatever I eat or do not eat, I shall still one day die. In the meantime, l shall continue to eat sausages; it is unthinkable for an Englishman not to do so.

  Dr Bertie Dockerill

  Shildon, Co Durham

  SIR — In claiming that tea is Britain’s national drink, your writer might care to know the real reason. When a French friend of mine was asked why the British drink so much tea, he gave the ready reply: “Have you tasted their coffee?”

  Professor Jack Mahoney

  Oxford

  SIR — Your correspondent suggests that food packaging should tell consumers how much exercise is needed to burn off the calories in the product. Please could it also include the number of calories that are burned when trying to open said packaging.

  Lynne Waldron

  Woolavington, Somerset

  SIR — In my Christmas stocking was a little cutting tool, “useful for opening difficult plastic packages”. Guess what it was packaged in.

  Peter Fineman

  Mere, Wiltshire

  DIY SPACEWALK

  SIR — I am a great admirer of Major Tim Peake’s achievements — even more so after viewing your front-page photo of him preparing for a spacewalk. Unlike my husband he appears to be reading the instructions before attempting the task.

  Marianne Charlesworth

  Old Chatton, Norfolk

  SIR — My husband, aged 70, recently purchased a drill. He has never owned one or used one. The last 48 hours have been a revelation. Now if I could just persuade him to eat cheese, life would be perfect.

  Rosemary Rowley-Wootton

  Kidderminster, Worcestershire

  SIR — Nicola Sturgeon approaches a referendum in a similar style to my doomed DIY projects: keen to instigate and always dissatisfied with the end result.

  Paul Coakes

  Droitwich, Worcestershire

  SIR — I was amazed to learn that Sarah Vine has the time and patience to send her husband, Michael Gove, an email with her advice. Don’t they talk to each other? I wish my bride of 50 years would do the same, but she claims she can’t shout in an email, nor ensure that I obey.

  Peter Froggatt

  Dorking, Surrey

  SIR — I find that a to-do list, strategically placed for my husband to see, has far more effect than actually asking him several times in person. The satisfaction he feels as he crosses each job off the list is nothing compared to mine as I think of yet another one to add to the bottom.

  Catherine Kidson

  Bradfield, Berkshire

  SIR — Men’s opportunities to show their prowess at home have been reduced to cooking on charcoal barbecues and fixing recalcitrant Christmas tree lights. Barbecues are now almost universally heated by gas, while cranky Christmas tree lights have been replaced by highly reliable LEDs.

  I am just going out to my shed and I may be some time.

  Jos Binns

  Camerton, Somerset

  TILL DEATH US DO PART

  SIR — I read with dismay the conclusions by university psychologists that men have a shorter life expectancy because they are less likely to seek medical advice.

  Married men die before their wives because they want to.

  Leonard Gold

  London WC2

  SIR — Having committed some minor infringement, I recently said to my wife that she really should divorce me, whereupon she replied that she wouldn’t do that as I “hadn’t suffered enough yet”.

  After 56 years of marriage, I am hopeful that my sentence will not be commuted.

  Dr John Leane

  Beaconsfield, Buckinghamshire

  SIR — My wife recently used the expression “from the get-go”. Is this grounds for divorce?

  Andrew Bebbington

  Cheadle, Cheshire

  SIR — At the end of each day I am considering asking my wife to complete a short survey. Questions wou
ld include: “How did I do today?” and “Would you recommend me to relatives and friends?”

  Peter Colson

  Writtle, Essex

  SIR — Today is our 45th wedding anniversary. I didn’t receive the traditional sapphire associated with this achievement. However, I did get a garden bench with an engraved brass plaque which read: “1971—2016: Sapphire so Good”.

  Need I say more?

  G.L.

  Tadworth, Surrey

  SIR — In honour of Mother’s Day, I would like to chronicle the various names by which my wife has been known over the years: Moussaka for a while; then The Mother Ship; and now she is known as Dad’s Tax Loophole.

  Keith Macpherson

  Houston, Renfrewshire

  THE AGE INDEX

  SIR — In an attempt to pre-empt any ageing of my brain I have recently adopted a simple exercise plan based on movements in the FTSE100 Index. I add the daily opening and closing prices together, convert that figure into steps and off I go with my dog.

  I’m hoping that when the markets reopen after Easter there will be cause for a much more challenging distance to be covered. My dog agrees with me.

  Lady Vanessa Watson

  Little Waltham, Essex

  SIR — You report that playing online brain games significantly improves memory in the over-fifties. My attempt to download this game was thwarted when I couldn’t remember my password.

  George Halford

  London SW14

  SIR — As an ageing hearing aid wearer, your two headlines today: “Hearing aid cuts hastening mental decline”; and “Learn a language to ward off dementia” put me in a quandary. Do I hedge my bets and choose Sign Language?

  Owen Hay