* I’ve been on a mercy mission this week. Woody Allen called me in a state over the abuse allegations that are threatening to derail the Oscars for him. Woody thinks of me as a kind of second therapist. Actually, I had warned him about getting involved with Mia Farrow in the first place and I predicted all the unnecessary fuss when Woody married his daughter. Of course, Mia went pretty quiet when Woody was making all those turkeys a few years ago. But now he has made a couple of good films, it seems it is all too much for her. Anyway, Woody unburdened himself to me. He told me that as usual he would not be going to the Academy Awards and I said I would be boycotting them as well this year. After an hour or so’s chat and a little session with his clarinet he seemed a lot perkier. In fact he asked whether I’d like to pop upstairs to play with his train set. Alas, I had another appointment so I had go.
* I’ve been racking my brains to try to remember who Roger Waters is. I read about his Facebook rants to lovely Scarlett over her Sodastream advert and his haranguing of that nice Canadian boy, Neil Young over his planned Israel concerts. His name definitely rang a bell. Then I realised that he was in a band in the 60’s. I forget the name but I do remember a charming chap called Syd who was lovely although he often had a rather dazed expression – they say it had something to do with drugs. Anyway, perhaps Roger should start taking some more himself to calm himself down, because I’m sure Scarlett is finding all the Facebook messages as creepy as I am. Wish you weren’t here, Roger.
* I heard last week that Pope Francis had announced that he would be visiting Israel. Cue frantic emails from the Vatican to my hotmail address. Will you be in Israel at that time, Mrs Cohen? The Pope is a big fan of my work and Shimon rather carelessly intimated that I’m usually in Herzliya at that time of the year, so I suspect that I will be granting him an audience. He will no doubt want to reminisce about the time we met many years ago when I was on holiday in Buenos Aires. I remember him being a lovely chap with a twinkle in his eye, although he did rather go on about football a lot.
* It was lovely to hear how much Lego means to David Beckham. Apparently Becks (or “Beckele” as I like to call him) has just completed the construction of Tower Bridge. I remember playing with him all those years ago while visiting his Jewish grandfather Joseph, who was an old family friend. The three-year-old Becks would be making something very inventive with his building bricks while wearing nothing but his underpants. Some things never change.