My boy rang the other night. He said he and his wife had bought tickets to see Ed Sheeran at the O2 arena in London. ‘How much were the tickets?’ I said. They were over £400 the pair, he said, and I was about to say in a strangulated voice, ‘How much?’ Then I remembered that I had recently added my name to a ballot which, if I am chosen, will vouchsafe me the privilege of buying tickets to see the Rolling Stones in Marseille in June — if Ron Wood lives that long. And some of those tickets are on sale at a similarly exorbitant price. I try not to be a blatant hypocrite when speaking to my son and I stopped myself in the nick of time.
However, this Ed Sheeran business was merely a prelude to his telling me that his wife is three months pregnant, and my ‘no hypocrisy’ rule went straight out of the window.
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