Farewell, dear Friend. You came from Simpsons in Piccadilly in those heady days of 1968 when I was doing so well in London and looking for pay dirt on the other side of the world. You were the height of fashion for a Dinner Jacket with your high buttons and little velvet collar. I enjoyed your trim fitting every time I dressed up and walked on in public in your company. Now, alas, we have to part. You and I were very trim before we boarded the old Iberia together. You have kept your looks. My waistline now sags. The trousers no longer button up. The jacket buttons have no hope of reaching their designed designation. Into the Charity Shop bag you must go. Take with you that handsome Harris Tweed Sports Jacket which has hung alongside you for two decades or more. Someone younger, someone slim and upright may yet enjoy them. Farewell, dear friends both. I shall remember you.
Francis, Oxford, 16 august 20112
Francis, Oxford, 16 august 20112
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