Whenever I sit down to write one of these immortal editorials I always have to wait for the muse to strike me, but when she’s out shopping I have to get on with it, so this time round I’d like to talk about nicknames...

As a child of the 1950s I have no idea if nicknames are still even a thing in this PC era. But I do know that when my first wife and I were deciding on a name for our first-born, and we knew it was to be a she, we had long conversations about what to name her so she couldn’t suffer an insulting nickname in later life.

We decided on Amber, which we figured couldn’t be shortened or corrupted, but later in life she confessed she was always “Brycie,” as was my own lot in life, as well as “Big Al” - happy with that, because if it was good enough for Capone it was good enough for me. And if I didn’t like it I could show my dislike on St Valentine’s Day.