I think it's time I got some reading glasses.
Browsing for books online this week, I was arrested by the sight of a cover featuring an armoured centurion wielding a bloodstained sword under the title 'Warrior of Frome'.
Some interesting speculation - this was a side to Somerset I really hadn't imagined - was cut short by the disappointing realisation that it actually said 'Warrior of Rome'.
It's not the first time I've misread something - but it's happening more and more; what finally decided me, however, was a feature in today's paper on 'Priapic Sportswear'.
It was such an apposite term too; obviously the article was a piece on where footballers buy their clothes, or possibly on the hideous contents of those high-street 'sports' emporia that sell nothing but logo-infested streetwear for strutting teenage boys*.
Not so; on closer inspection, the garments turned out to be merely 'Patriotic' - as in the attire of our Olympic team; "Hurrah for the old blue, white and blue!"
Sometimes the real world is an infinitely duller place.
(I should point out, before anyone suggests I might need psychoanalysis for my Freudian misreading, that I have recently taught several lessons on Classical drama)
*Another chance to air this joke from Hugh Dennis (on 'The Now Show'):
"This train will shortly be arriving at Birmingham New Street. For passengers wishing to change for Wolverhampton, there is a JD Sports opposite the station entrance."
A Bright Golden Haze
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