My Mum and Dad are now harassing Hawaii. Oahu to be precise and Waikiki to be preciser. In the last few weeks they’ve eaten fish head soup in Singapore (my Christmas present to them. No, not the soup, I got them a swish hotel for 4 nights), joined in with the anti-Royal protesters in New Zealand for Prince Charles’ visit, battled a tornado near Middle Earth (Queenstown actually) which nearly sucked up their camper van and now they are ‘bothering’ the beautiful people on the beach by shuffling around in their 1970’s swimsuits. Bless. They’re off to Pearl Harbour tomorrow.
Which reminds me of one of my favourite Woody Allen funnies (from Radio Days):
Ditzy waitress, Mia Farrow, is on the roof of a restaurant in Times Square with her lover during WW2. Someone bursts onto the roof and tells them that the Japs have just bombed Pearl Harbour. As they race back downstairs Mia shouts out (in a great New Joisey accent) “who is Pearl Harbour anyway?” Marvellous.