Today is my birthday and I should be celebrating. And I am, mostly. I have had lunch and coffee with friends, been for a walk by the river and am going out to dinner at a fine Italian restaurant with my husband tonight.
Not everything is a box of fluffies/ bowl of cherries/ bed of roses, however. I have got laryngitis and completely lost my voice so am only able to smile, wave and squeak. I've never especially liked clowns and now am afraid I may be turning into one with my elaborate (panto)mimes! I have noticed that I am still able to laugh, which I find an interesting anatomical curiosity as it seems to prove that laughter is visceral and does not come from the throat at all. In fact, as Peter Cook points out in Tragically I Was an Only Twin,'A laugh, like an erection, is largely involuntary'. Hmmm.
But today's main disappointment has been the performance of my beloved football team. I got up at half past one to watch them lose the Miseryside derby in comprehensive fashion to Everton. Tragic. We are now second to bottom of the league - only kept off the lowest spot by a marginally 'superior' goal difference. This is the worst position Liverpool has occupied in my living memory. Even more tragic.
And yet, the Scousers still see humour in the situation. At Liverpool's John Lennon Airport, there is a bronze statue of the erstwhile Beatle. On the ceiling is written the airport's motto, taken from his song, Imagine: 'Above us only sky'. Rumour has it that some wag has scrawled alongside it, 'Below us only West Ham'. You've got to laugh, apparently...