The Nowhere Men
Byline: MR BROCKLEBANK
THE millions (or is it billions?) of tourists expected in our fair city in the coming months will be interested to see statues of native men perched in improbable poses over one of the new hotels.
"Say Budd, I didn't realise this city was also famous for Planet of the Apes?" you can imagine Myrtle saying to her regular Yankee husband as they saunter along North John Street, in their Hawaiian shirts and Bermuda shorts, to their cruise ship. The hotel's name, The Hard Day's Night, is perhaps the only clue to the identity of the embarrassed foursome. (So that means it can't be Gandalf, Bilbo, Sam Gamgee and Legolas either). Further suggestions on the identity of this mysterious quartet are welcome.
FOLLOWING parking woes, this column's intrepid Liverpool secret shopper reports: "Outside Brunswick railway station, a posse of parking attendants were giving out tickets to those who sensibly parked there to avoid the city centre." As we know, if they really were sensible, their next destination will be the Trafford Centre with its free parking.
FURTHER to Wirral Council abandoning its pounds 300,000 gateway Viking boat sculpture, why was Tom Murphy's proposed Neptune sculpture overlooked and left dead in the water?
Surely this giant statue of a naked Poseidon seated off New Brighton, grasping his mighty trident, would have been a boon for the resort's flagging saucy postcard industry? …