Can't keep away from Broadcasting House: 26th, record Tracks Of My Years for the Ken Bruce radio 2 show; 28th, record interview with Steve Wright. Chatting with Ken, I find myself getting a little shaky, searching on the hoof for the perfect word or phrase to describe my feelings about some of the wonderful records in my list. They ask for 15 titles and whittle it down to their own choice of 10. Don't hear the tracks at the time of the chat, just discuss them cold. I realise how deeply some of them have affected my life. Back to the 60s with The Beatles and The Hollies and you remember the mates, and the girls, the fun and the growing up; the loss of some of your innocence. And Millwall, and the unbeaten home record coming to an untidy end at the hands of Plymouth Argyle, bringing with it what might have been the first-ever pitch invasion, at least since 1923 and The White Horse Wembley Final, where the poor lucky buggers mostly had little choice. Ken keeps it flowing because he likes music, he respects musicians and he has a great knowledge of his subject. As does Steve Wright: but with him it's all done impromptu, it seems. Never know where it's going to go, and going with his erratic and comedic flow is best. Faith is restored at these times. Hearing A Friend For Life at 8.45 one morning last autumn, when Johnnie Walker sat in for Wogan, restored some faith, too. Make Me Smile is no albatross, but it's a relief to hear more recent tracks aired.

To a meeting with tax specialist re copyright questions. I don't enjoy meetings, or committees, or business much. After, took relief by picking up a rare leftover for matinee of The God Of Carnage. Four supreme performances. It manages, temporarily, to take my mind off a certain legal matter that has dogged me for two years or more.

Later, the news tells of a Cessna jet coming down in Kent, and I learn that one of the perished is Richard Lloyd, an acquaintance of mine of old and possibly my dear mate Richard Goss's best friend. Next day, the owner of the shattered house the plane landed on is quoted from Portugal, where he is on a golfing holiday, implying that he would not be letting it spoil his fun. He won't be rushing back. The wife is home; she can take care of things. The Press like this stuff and hold him up as a great Britisher with a stiff upper-lip. But I notice he doesn't mention the five dead men, nor their heart-broken families. I think he's a prat. But then my view modifies slightly as I allow him the benefit.......he too was under an obscene pressure and perhaps one day he'll realise what he has, or rather hasn't, said. First reactions, though, do tend to carry the ring of truth, do tend to expose the core person, who seldom, if ever, changes.

I'm with T.S.Eliot on the matter: "The only wisdom we can hope to acquire is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless".

SH