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CHAPTER THREE - Charity Begins At Home

So this morning I got up. The first day of the rest of my life. Another beautiful day in paradise. I’m inspired. Energised. Listen, I went to see this Barefoot Doctor bloke at the Komedia and I’m on it. Nice enough and all, but talk about the art of getting away with it. Still, it gave me an idea. I can do that. Be Brighton’s own barefoot.

“Now I want you to try this. It’s something I picked up from an old Peruvian and it comes from the ancient art of Winginit. Put your hands on your stomach and let them be there. Soon you’ll begin to feel your stomach.”

What to do first? I’ve got ideas coming out of me like… listen, my ideas have got ideas. My favourite started out as a feature, but now it’s an industry. It’s a food thing, a diet book. I’m going to call it The Syllable Diet and, basically, it’s like this. Anything that’s got three or more syllables is out. Apple (one syllable), egg (one), pea (one)… Cannelloni (four) is out. See? Maybe we’ll have a picture of Kate (one) Moss (one) on the cover. What do you mean apple’s got two? OK then, pear. Anyway, doesn’t matter. I’ve got another one.

The Bikhram Diet – where, basically, you eat your food while it’s still in the oven. It’s great. You could sell it as “this year’s hot new diet”. Confidence breeds confidence in this freelance game.

Anyway, I was thinking. The older we get, the smaller our worlds get. It’s like going to the cinema on my own, a treat that was a staple of my youth but one of those things (like... just about every other selfish pleasure) that had to move out to accommodate life. You'd have thought The Lord would have foreseen such things and made our lives bigger as we went on. You start off with 24 hours for yourself, but then you're expected to take on board a wife, kids, a job, the dogs, the cats, the kids' friends, the friends’ kids, a mortgage, the garden, a new kitchen – all in that same 24 hours. Who would it hurt if we were given, say, an additional three hours a day with each extra child? OK, so there’d be a bit of re-structuring to do, but I’d be a fantastic parent, do all sorts of things with the kids. I’d go to that evening life drawing class in Bond Street. I would be that person. I wonder if Brighton Progressive Synagogue's got a Suggestion Box? Maybe one day I'll find out. If I ever go there. If I ever get the time.

“While you’re reading this I want you to breathe in and then breathe out. This is an ancient technique proven to be good for you. Breathing in and then out will increase the likelihood of living longer. I’ve been doing it all my life and look at me, how I’m still living.”

So anyway. I’ve got this idea. I’m going to create a journalist character called Frank Lee and Frank’s going to be an argumentative, polemic kind of guy. I’ll do a column and I’m going to call it Frank Lee Speaking. You can go mad sitting in a room all day by yourself.