Sunday, January 22, 2006

Doorstepped by the Daily Mail

It was not my finest moment and a bit like a scene from a sitcom.

My dear wife was making brunch and we realised we were out of bacon. So I popped round the corner to get some, without pausing to pick up my keys. When I got back, Dorothy in the kitchen with the radio on couldn't hear me knocking. Just as I was starting to get irritated at being stuck on the doorstep, up pops a besuited chap saying 'Are you Iain Sharpe'? He turned out to be a Daily Mail journalist doing background research on the Mark Oaten story and he had me as pretty much a captive audience.

Had the situation been less awkward I might have kept my sang froid, said nothing and shut the door. As it was, I couldn't quite do the 'no comment' routine so I said positive but I hope fairly bland things. That's what Chris Huhne and Sandra Gidley seemed to have done in the Observer that I had just read, so that's what I did too. But I am not used to dealing with Daily Mail journalists and just hope that I haven't inadvertently put my big foot in it. I am sure that somebody will be only too quick to tell me if I have!


peter said...

Lift right knee into interloper's bollocks

Stephen Glenn said...

Strangley they missed that option out of my candidate media training. ;-)

cymrumark said...

When I was a candidate in Wyre Forest we had a local scandal ...and shortly afterwards the Daily Mail dug into my background...but they died of boredom I suppose:)

I always like to remind Daily mail writers and reasders of the papers support for Fascism in the 30s ...

Angus J Huck said...

The "Daily Mail" pursuit of Mark bears all the hallmarks of a media witchhunt.

First we have speculation about the state of his marriage and what his wife thinks about it all, based on unattributable third-, fourth- and fifth-hand hearsay; all wrapped up in a tone of self-righteous moral indignation that would do credit to Roger Scruton. Then we have them stalking him through the streets of Watford, to his mother's front door, and up and down the byways of England.

Iain, the best thing you could have done with these vile scavengers is turn the garden hose on them.