Beyond our Ken

THE Diary is usually loath to apply the overused word "legend" about a mere mortal. Zeus is a legend. As is King Arthur. And Robin Hood.

But your chum at the bar? No, he is not a “pure legend”, even if he agrees to buy umpteen rounds of lager, plus whisky chasers, and a family-sized bag of nuts to munch on the way home.

There is one exception to the Diary’s hard and fast rule. The broadcaster Ken Bruce, who is, indeed, a legend of the air waves, much as Neptune is a legend of the ocean waves.

Now this mythical character has decided to leave BBC Radio 2 for a new job at Greatest Hits Radio. (Ken, that is, not Neptune. Neptune is still patiently waiting for his first offer of work in national broadcasting.)

Ken’s millions of loyal listeners have been shaken by the announcement, especially superfan Rob Brydon.

The Welsh comedian – who also does a slick Ken impersonation – admits he’s “devastated” by the news, adding mournfully: “I ask that people respect my privacy at this difficult time.”

The name game

THE Herald recently published an uplifting tale about a woman’s eyesight being saved by the speedy action of Specsavers, who advised a procedure to reduce fluid pressure on the orb.

Says reader Brian Chrystal: “Interesting that the Specsavers employee involved was named Neil Drain, who says he’ll keep an eye on things.”

Weighty consideration

OUTRAGED and bamboozled reader Joe Knox gets in touch to say: “My barber said I had thin hair. Why on earth would I want fat hair?”

Dead reckoning

OUR thirst for commentary on Prince Harry’s autobiography, Spare, is not yet quenched. Says reader Robert Menzies: “I note that certain high-ranking generals aren’t happy that Harry revealed the number of combatants he killed in Afghanistan, which he was supposed to keep quiet about it. Does this mean the MoD now supports the tally ban?”


Read more from the Diary: Reading material and thinking out of the box


Bluetooth goes blue

THE modern world is a technologically savvy, yet lurid place. Which is very much to Channel 4’s liking, for we learn that the titillating TV station is exploring the concept of a racy reality programme where strangers connect with each other online to revel in erotic shenanigans, using Bluetooth technology.

Reaching for his smelling salts, aghast reader David Donaldson sputters: “Who would have thought C4 could sync so low?”

Theory of language

PEDANTIC reader Jason MacDuffie says: “When people ask me ‘What’s up?’, I always respond, ‘A directional vector. Why do you ask?’”