Photo to the left shows me with my beloved, late dad.
Today, Sunday September 21, 2014 is World Peace Day.
If my beloved dad were alive today, out would have come his cranky Smith Corona typewriter. The neatly folded creased carbon paper and the emission of furious jabbing of the keys, which would wobble his NHS glasses at the end of his nose.
Off my dad would go, ranting and raging under his breath as he squinted and scowled his way into writing and demanding an end to the war in the Middle East. This was London. And it was not a few years back. No. It was the 1980s. His letter would have been aimed at his arch political nemesis, Mrs Thatcher over the Iran-Iraq war. Peace eh? What's the odds?
Back to WPD. Not to be confused with WMD (Weapons of mass destruction) or Tony Blair.