Cardiff celebrates. The city’s wait is nearly over. People talk of nothing else. Euphoria, excitement and expectation buzz through the streets. At last, at long last, after all these decades, the promised land flowing with milk and honey lies spread out on the horizon. The future’s bright; the future’s red. Yes, it really is going to happen, a dream come true, a game-changer for the capital and for Wales…The Naked Guide to Cardiff will be published this year. Well, what else did you think I was going on about?
The “proofs” (whatever that means) will be ready in May. Can’t fault it. Then? Don’t ask me, I’m only the harmless drudge.
Scene: a public house somewhere in Cardiff
WOMAN I’VE JUST MET: I have three kids myself
ME: All with different fathers?
WOMAN: No, the same father
ME: There’s posh!
FRIEND: I bought Norfolk new potatoes at Splott market
ME: Easy scrubbers?
FRIEND: Yeah, there were a few around
I know nobody believes there is ever going to be a book. I don’t actually believe it myself – and never will until the day there is a tangible, three-dimensional hard copy in my hands and unsold box-loads in the hall. Cock-eyed optimism is not one of my shortcomings.
‘Ha! Hold my brain; be still my beating heart.’