Peter Wyngarde died this week. Jason King. Words like ‘louche’, ‘cad’, ‘suave’ and ‘rakish’ can now be consigned to the historical section of the Oxford English Dictionary. To be honest, its where they belong anyway. But back in the early 70s…

We already had ‘The Saint’ with Roger Moore, camp to the point of positive effeminacy, exemplifying all those adjectives (ok, ‘cad’ is a noun, but who fucking cares?), sweeping women off their feet with the raise of 1 solitary eyebrow and yet with one really limp and pathetic punch could floor 17 stone of shaven-headed Commando, as long as he was a bad guy. And then into our lives came Jason King. Who took ‘smooth’ and elevated it (or ‘plunged’ it, not sure really) into another stratosphere. He didn’t need to even raise an eyebrow to have women swoon, just a stare, through the inevitable plume of cigarette smoke would take her from the office to the bed in 22 minutes. Jason King was the proto-medallion man, as he loved jewellery and, when not wearing ridiculously massive ties, would generally opt for the open-to-the-navel look. Whilst smoking. Always smoking. Not just any cigarettes but ‘special’ ones.

I loved Jason King. Even with the moustache he was an aspirational figure, driving round in a Bentley Continental, wearing ridiculous suits and with all the women he could eat.

This was shattered a bit when a few years later the real life Peter Wyngarde was arrested for unseemly acts in a public toilet with a crane-driver. But we won’t go there. In fact we’ll never go there, geographically or anatomically, but we’ll remember the man who, however much ‘of his own time’ he was, and they certainly wouldn’t make such tv now, he enriched our lives in some small, 4 o’clock on Sunday afternoons, way.

There’s a picture in the paper today of an over-heated Novak Djokovich in Melbourne. After playing in the Aussie Open in 39 degrees. Where many players are suffering from heatstroke, dehydration, all the usual stuff you get when doing something where, basically, you shouldn’t be. And my first thought was: ‘Qatar, 2022’. The world cup. Where players will be dreaming of cooling down in 39 degrees over there. How can they do that????

Happy Friday

A xxxx