Graduation

Just back from the Ruritarian invented tradition of graduation in the City Hall; a procession straight out of Lord of the Rings, with everyone telling me that I either look like Henry the Eighth or a Beefeater in my garish robes, followed by wine and food with students and colleagues. It was my last one, a poignant moment. Our degrees were presented together with the Business School's. Large numbers of proud families of overseas students were taking films and pictures and I realised that I would now figure in the photograph collection and home movies of several African families.

As I processed off the stage to solemn organ music I spotted that one of the tribulations of being a man of a certain shape was happening. My trousers were slowly slipping down. How to hold them up in fancy dress is a big problem. Nothing for it, but to thrust the robes to one side and yank the buggers up. Now that's one for the family album.