Listening to a hefty wadge of Europop on the pub sound system last Saturday lunchtime Mrs Mustard leaned over towards me and said, 'This music would make me vote UKIP.'
Later, having heard Celine Dion mangle the old Eric Carmen song, the same Mrs M, on fine form after only one white wine, offered, 'If she listened to herself she'd realise why she was all by herself.'
At the induction and institution for which we had been having a preparatory drink (we suspected we were about to hear choral music) we noticed from the order of service that the new incumbent had three Christian names, none of which he was known by. Not only did this seem slightly greedy but we found it remarkable that no-one thought it worthy of mention at any point in the proceedings.
Prior to the induction the organist played the sort of music that left me with the vague feeling that I was in some ante-room of hell. I expected, 'The Prince of Darkness will see you now' to come booming out over the PA system. Not that the PA system challenged adequacy to any sort of competition. Even the stone-coloured speakers clung, chameleonesque, to the pillars.
The look on the face of the new incumbent as the solo chorister sang will live with me for a while.
Nice ceiling though. And the Bishop gave me, 'A good leader produces a we out of a multiple of Is.' Worth being there for that.