Actually, to tell you the truth Max, I haven't enjoyed the 90s much, not really.
There was all that trouble with those three frightful women - who'd
have thought they'd all meet up in the Arrivals Hall like that, just on the
day my flight was two hours late so they had time to talk to each other? -
and that nasty business with the uncaring swine at American Express, and the
Great House Restoration fiasco, and the £13,500 bill from the mountain
rescue services, and what with one thing and another... well, you know how it
is. I wish I wrote the sort of column where you could air that kind of thing
in public, but there you are; I suppose I appear as a sort of impeccable authority-figure
to the readers, and there's some compensation in that. Still, when you -

Oops. Must dash. The lesion's playing up again.

As ever

M