Magic!

Paul Daniels walked past me on the Royal Mile yesterday.

Paul Daniels!!!! The diminutive magician himself, in the flesh, creator of the wonderful saturday afternoon entertainment I never missed as a child, and the superlative children's TV programme Wizbit.

So I give him a flyer. He glances at it then turns to the random lady next to him. "Oh, it looks a bit gay, doesn't it?" he says in the very same voice with which he used to deliver those hilarious jokes I never failed to laugh at as a boy. He looks back at me. "See, he's got his hand on his hip, he's dyed his hair blond...is it a gay show?"

I am rendered speechless by such unexpected abuse from a childhood hero.

Another random lady now approaches, having recognised the famous master of magic. She is, coincidentally, carrying our flyer. Paul Daniels points at it and says, "That's me, look, in the middle."

It's me in the middle...surely?

I decided to leave the great man's presence at this point, lest he baffle me further with his wizardly ways.