Thought for the Day

As delivered at BBC Radio Bristol this morning:

An elderly woman, according to a story last Friday, got a knock on the door from two police officers asking if she was intending to supply a dangerous cheese. No, really.

Bank Holiday Monday. Everyone's thoughts turn to cheese-chasing. What do you mean, not yours?

Presumably you're going to wait for the opportunity to run with the bulls, have a town-wide, ruleless football match, a massive tomato fight or, if you're really alarming, pop along to Ottery St Mary in the autumn and get chased through the streets by people wearing flaming barrels of tar.

Risk? How come there are no knocks on the doors of people who make knives, motor-bikes, beer or cigarettes. Those are just as much a matter of choice as pursuing a 26lb Double Gloucester down a hill. Aren't they?

The God of the Bible spoke from a burning bush, asked a prophet to cook his food on dung and called another one to marry a woman of ill repute. Then Jesus invited his followers to walk on water, approach the demonic and eventually lay down their lives. Shouldn't they be brought in for questioning?

That lad who shared his loaves and fish with 5,000. No regard for food hygiene.

Last time I sang 'Come Down O Love Divine' I should have done a risk assessment first.

So I don't think I mind terribly much if some people want to risk their limbs by chasing cheese. Life is about risk.

I may go home and eat an organic natural yoghurt and some unwashed fruit now. I'll open the yoghurt with my penknife. Living dangerously eh?