The girls in mourning for Davy Jones (no relation - nor the chap with the locker) being major Monkees fans. E. in fact now considering a 60s themed birthday to surprise all her playground chums who seem only to know last week's hits.

Thankfully, spirits lift with their first viewing of Keith Floyd (the very first series). They're immediate converts proving that good things do last. And this chimes well with a theory I'm hatching about current tendencies. You could call it the Twelfth Night scale: an increasing tendency towards the Malvolio away from the Sir Toby. (Floyd, of course, very much on the side of Sir T.) But look around you - the workplace, the wider world, see how the generosity of spirit is withering away. And what - I hear you say - may there be no more cakes and ale?

Think on't.