I'm not gloating. Not much I'm not. But can I just say ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. The report by the Humble Pie Commission into the Disclosure of Smug Self Righteousness has been published.
"Independent expert group on "ner ner na ner ner" says compulsory disclosure of gloatage 'could damage public trust'. Umbrella organisations should not be required to publish details of whenever staff or individual trustees say 'I told you so' for fear that it makes umbrella sector look like a load of squabbling kids."
That is just what BUBB said all along and it is great that our pig headed approach has been vindicated. Notice I don't mention the bit of the report that actually says that while disclosure should not be mandatory it is desirable, as that doesn't fit in with my agenda.
Anyway, it is a victory for non-transparency so kiss my fat one, Canopy Finance.
Incidentally, I have also been cleared by a group looking at expenses disclosure by brolly big wigs. Readers may remember this storm in a tea cup from last year. Basically I refused to reveal what I had spent even though I had nothing to hide and ignored the fact that a simple admission of my modest claims would have allayed any lingering doubt people may have had about how the good life I shout about from the rooftops in my blog is bankrolled. I also chose to paradoxically claim that it was up to trustees to make sure that CEOs were accountable to their members and the public while at the same time slagging off shocking governance at every chance. Damn right I want my croissant and eat it.
Still, I am in the clear and I had a huge slap up meal last night to celebrate (that the trustees don't need to know the cost of).
I have been so busy not not gloating that I almost forgot to mention the reception hosted by the Nightmayor of London last night to celebrate 100 years of the London Brolly Service Council. Hubert was there and admires my tie which he thinks is an offcut from some particularly distasteful curtains. I make a mental note to check the dictionary (Oxford English, naturally) definition of admire to ensure I am not getting it mixed up again with "takes the piss out of".
It's a grand occasion and the champagne is dispensed in buckets so big you could fit £20 worth of KFC in them. City largesse! Get it while you can while at the same time being two-faced and CONSTANTLY WHINGING ABOUT THE BANKERS.
It is great to have a chat with Boris. We have much in common. Neither of us can quite work out how we got to the position we are in but we somehow bumble along and keep surviving falls created by our own shortcomings.
And now for a short commercial break:
Donald Holding is a great headhunter.
This next bit is not a commercial break even if I would like it to be one.
Before I carry on can I remind you that I am supposed to keep a very distinct division between my roles as BUBB CEO and chair of Brolly Investment Business (BIB- formerly Umbrellabuilders) lest people should conclude that BUBB members get preferential treatment or that I use my BUBB position to promote BIB services.
Anyway, I am currently on my way to Newcastle to check out a fantastic organisation (and BUBB member) Gampcare. Therefore I won't mention the investment that Gampcare received from BIB or the fact that they found the BIB investment application process a positive joy (at a time when others are whinging that our 25 minute window for applications on Christmas Day somehow excluded them from making a bid) because that would clearly be a breach of the protocol outlined above.
While in Newcastle I will also be performing the next leg of my Big Arse tour. I like Newcastle a lot as my Great Grandfather once had a coal import business here.
Very sad to hear about the death of Michael Foot. A superb parliamentarian. It was touching to hear the tributes from his fellow politicians. "We can't get our insincere platitudes out quickly enough even if we slagged him off in the past" they all chorused. Some of them even whacked out a 140char soundbite on Twitter. Gordon Brown and Thatcher's tributes ("deeply principled"..."man of high principles") in particular illustrated that the playground theorem of "takes one to know one" does not apply in politics.
But let us not forget that this great man was but a smart suit and a pointless war away from being Prime Minister. I met him first in 1975 when Ben Subbuteo and myself went to pick him up from the station (Oxford, naturally) to kidnap him into giving a speech at St Boloc's. We felt he looked too dapper for a student event so we gave him some fashion advice and got him kitted out with a donkey jacket. It was hard to fit him into it as he was tall man. But he gave a great lecture.