His part in my downfall.

I'll miss Spike Milligan.

Three 'Spike' moments:

a) In the summer holidays when I was a kid, my dad and I would drive down to the beach and sit in the car listening to the Goon Show on the radio. Hello Min. Hello Henry. Consequently, my favourite pastries in the whole world were Eccles cakes, solely on account of their name.

b) During a summer holiday fling a few years back, the boy I was 'getting the smooch on with' and I were browsing in a second-hand bookshop when we came across Spike's Small Dreams of a Scorpion. I didn't have any cash on me at the time so I put it on hold, planning to return the next day. Unbeknownst to me, however, the boy went back to the shop, bought it, inscribed it and inserted a poem of his own about how much he enjoyed kissing me. I still have that book somewhere.

c) During a more recent summer holiday fling with an entirely different boy, I lay in his arms while he told me, in his charming English accent, about the time he met Spike. After waiting for hours in line to meet him at a book signing, he managed to stammer 'Permit me to thank you for the many years of pleasure you've given me,' to which Spike chuckled and said 'well well. thank you, dear,' in a voice tremulous but avuncular.

On another note, today's triumphs included discovering that the excellent Rocklopedia Fakebandica has finally (after a couple of pesky emails from myself and others) added the Zit Remedy from Degrassi High to their listings. I'm amazed by how satisfying that is.

And boy oh boy, I still wish I had a hat like Joey Jeremiah's.