Looking through previous posts, and in the knowledge that there are at least two high-profile editors who tune in to this blog regularly, I am horrified by the number of typographical inexactitudes there are, as well as omitted words. Terrible. And if such shoddy work were to be handed in to me for marking, I'd be less than impressed. My apologies. The trouble is (he says, quickly groping for any old excuse) is that these entries have to be done in something of a hurry: usually no more than a fifteen or twenty minute 'window', once the lights are out, as there are numerous other things that need to be done, and then there's the tyranny of e-mail to attend to.

Enough of such whingeing. I never like reports that begin with 'Picture the scene', mainly because it seems to me to be in the same category as lazy journalistic television reports that begin with 'They came in their thousands', which always strikes me as rather feeble. However, that said, picture the scene:

I was playing through one of Bach's three-part inventions (I'm trying to re-learn all of them, which is a good discipline and something of a challenge after several years) and two residents came into our drawing room.

"Sir, what on earth is that? It's so boring! Play the song you played last term: the one you said was worth publishing."

I did so, and the room began to fill up.

"Sir, whose music do you think sounds like yours?" I interpreted the questions as an enquiry as to whose music acts as a style similar to the one that I employ and replied that it's a mixture between Genesis and Elton John. As luck would have it, I espied a Genesis CD next to the music centre and put it on. Before very long. the nostalgic voice of Phil Collins was singing 'Turn it on again' at a respectable volume. It's a great song.

'Oh what the heck?' I thought. I pushed the volumne fader up to just below deafening and everyone was on their feet and dancing. It was one of those occasions that you could never repeat: you just had to be there. Sometimes they just happen.