Titles

Can’t say I feel passion for the subject. Only mild annoyance.

Every so often the question pops up why men are Mr and a woman is all sorts.

Forget Miss, Mrs, Ms … in that order. What is of far more a nuisance to me is the eternal question on official forms (probably mentioned this before – if so, sorry to repeat myself but I only have one brain): Are you single, married, divorced, widowed?

Single? Married? Divorced? Widowed? It’s inane. Those who are married have it easy. They tick “Married” even if they are Liz Taylor – many times divorced and possibly (have forgotten now) widowed once or twice, currently married.

No doubt this country’s strange laws will conjure up a court order, a flogging and a fine for my ticking that which I am. Which is single. Previously divorced.

Sometimes, to brighten up some much stressed out bureaucrat’s boredom, I will tick TWO boxes (single and divorced – ain’t that the truth). But you never know. The law moves in mysterious ways and one of these days I’ll be obliged to swear an oath. Probably on the Bible. I respect the Bible but not to the extent of saving my neck. You want truth? Ask me to swear on my son’s life or my grandmother’s grave. Which wouldn’t make any difference to my marital status. Which is …

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