GETS to all of us, I suppose. Jan Leeming appears to have gone a bit loopy. Five-times married, 66 and calling herself Cheetahgirl, she's advertising for a man – yet another man – in a lonely hearts column.
But first, let me tell you about our first and last encounter. One March night in an Edinburgh hotel. A brief affair. Memorable, though. This was during her BBC TV newsreading days that made her a household face, long before she turned up out of nowh
ere to brave rats and snakes in I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.
Over dinner, after presenting cheques to the charities benefiting from the Evening News Charity Walk at Meadowbank, she recalled her early days with the Beeb, interviewing the likes of Omar Sharif and Hardy Krüger. Lucky escape for them, perhaps. At that time, she was married to husband No 3, radio announcer Patrick Lunt.
En route to the pudding ("I'm having the Passion Cake"), Jan told me: "I'm nosey and I like talking to people. I'm a giggler really. I enjoy being a girl."
Life's been a giggle for her and the laughing hasn't stopped. Everybody's laughing.
"I'm looking for a man of 6ft to 6ft 5in. It's decidedly important that he should have an athletic body. I'm not interested in a philanderer."
Don't get your knickers in a twist, Jan. My philandering days are over.
Clothes call NOBODY will get it, so keep this teaser up your sleeve next time you're in a sports or general knowledge quiz: who led the Charge of the Light Brigade? Wrong, it wasn't Archie Macpherson. It was, in fact, the 7th Earl of Cardigan. Frozen stiff in the Crimean cold, he gave his name to the life-preserving cardigan, a garment I'm never without in the winter.
The gallant Earl also had his name linked with the balaclava. Risky headwear. Last time I wore one, the cops bundled me into a panda to East Fettes, suspected of attempting to rob a bank.
Afterwords . . ... still blowing his own trumpet at 78, Kenny Ball hopes to have sold his Essex listed farmhouse for £925,000 before his next Edinburgh gig. Downsizing, he recently announced it's on the market. You've got your plug, Kenny. Any commish, I'll donate it to the Musicians Benevolent Fund.
The full article contains 392 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.