"Look mum. No hands!" It is every parent's nightmare to be forced to watch helplessly as their 7 year-old, with the new-found independence of two wheels, goes careering fearlessly along the uneven pavement in front of the house. Thanks to a guardian angel, the escapade normally ends with nothing more than a toppling skid or collision…
In Memoriam
Venturing downstairs at the crack of dawn every weekday morning, my first conscious daily act is to open the front door and hunt for the newspaper. Invariably within a five yard radius of the letter-box, it is pot luck if it is in pristine condition on the path, lying face-down in a puddle in the…
The sky’s the limit
Winding my way up the world from Western Australia last week, the doors of my mind opened on a vision of Elisha Otis . Elisha Who? Who Otis? Who Who? Odds on, anyone reading this blog has seen the name at least once in the past 24 hours. At the New York World's Fair in…
No flies on them, mate
Filling in the immigration card at the start of the descent into Melbourne International Airport earlier this week, I could not help but chuckle as I checked the "No" box against the question "Do you have any criminal convictions?" I was unavoidably reminded of that hackneyed joke, attributed to the late Tony Hancock and especially popular…
“Action!”
Eureka! A mere week shy of a century since Charlie Chaplin first stumbled onto the Silver Screen, the world's Tax Supremos finally discovered the wonders of Moving Pictures. Watching the OECD Centre for Tax Policy and Administration's first webcast on Base Erosion and Profit Shifting (BEPS) on January 23rd, there were times when I wished the new…
Near-Death Of A Salesman
I am prejudiced against salesmen. Shop salesmen. Company salesmen. Door-to-door salesmen. You name 'em, I'm prejudiced against 'em. I am not proud of the fact and sincerely apologise to any salesman who, attracted by the pictures or vulgar colours, has found his way inadvertently to this blog only to be insulted for his troubles. My feelings…
A dope makes a hash of things
Depressingly, whenever I mention British Humour (sic) to an American I receive the stock response: "Benny Hill!" I used to fight back, arguing that Hill's humour was cheap smut eventually only permitted for export (to America), while true British Humour was a cerebral affair of the utmost sophistication. Balderdash! I was kidding myself. Benny Hill was…
Don’t Mention The War
1/1/14. Typing the date, I am paralysed with fear as I imagine myself, pencil in fingerless-gloved hand, writing home from a rat-infested trench in the fields of Northern France (rats are one thing - but France?). Even the quality press has added to my waking nightmare. Both the New York Times and The Economist got in…
Stuck Behind Chocolate Bars
Predictably, perhaps, Belgium does not feature prominently in Patricia Schulz's "1,000 Places To See Before You Die". Given my disdain for "Harry, take a photograph" tourism, it was serendipitous that the only foreign place I was taken to see in the ten years after I entered this life was Belgium. And I loved it. My father spent the…
Tax that must not be named
Standing in the Great Hall of Hogwarts one day this summer in the company of my youngest son and half of the picture-popping population of Japan, I was the only muggle who, when asked by the Warner Brothers Studio Guide which House I would want the Sorting Hat to direct me to, did not reply Gryffindor. To my…
Tax Break 