Complete and utter iWash

I'm not sure if I've mentioned the disaster which befell my brand new iPhone in a bathroom-based incident a while ago, after I'd had it barely a week - which just goes to show the verisimilitude of the statistic pointed out to me by several piss-takers well-wishers that two of the most common forms of damage caused to iPhones is the screen cracking and that occasioned by submersion in water. Mine fell into the *ahem* latter category.

And no, I didn't undertake the immersion-in-a-pouch-of-rice treatment afterwards; I was too upset and actually quite concerned that  a family member might find it and think it was a boil-in-the-bag ready meal, thus making matters even worse.

Smarting from the incident, I wandered around the house in a daze, wondering what iniquitous deed I had perpetrated in my past which had rendered me deserving of such a harsh gadgetry-related punishment. Suddenly, I remembered; in an episode of that top comedy show The IT Crowd, precisely the same thing had happened to one of the main characters (Moss), after he had put his phone in that most conveniently placed of locations, the top shirt pocket – and I had laughed out loud.

My tweet to the show's writer Graham Linehan, demanding compensation, elicited no response, so I turned my attention to my buildings and contents insurance, administered by a certain company from whom I could possibly have obtained a claim form in person if I had bothered to take the 20½-hour journey via Brittany Ferries from Plymouth. No, there isn't a prize.

My first telephone conversation was with a very friendly and helpful young lady who, I realised after a subsequent conversation with another equally helpful young lady four days later (which was on the Friday afternoon), had done absolutely nothing she had promised, i.e. passed the matter to the company who dealt with damage repairs on their behalf.  So the second young lady made the same promise and, all things considered, I couldn't help feeling rather pessimistic about the outcome. However, I had a call within a couple of hours, giving me a reference number and informing me that DPD would be collecting the phone for repair or replacement on the Monday, between 9.00am and 6.30pm.

I had a text message on Monday morning saying that the phone would be collected - bizarrely - between 12.18pm and 1.18pm! It was therefore with a strange but totally unfounded disappointment that I welcomed the DPD bloke at 12.21pm.

The company dealing with the phone had told me it was repairable and would be returned via Royal Mail within 7 to 10 working days. Given that Royal Mail make a habit of doing things like ditching the first-class post, conveniently forgetting to tell everyone about it, and bearing in mind the onset of Christmas mail, I was not all that optimistic.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I was forced to make four more telephone calls, the repairing company decided the phone couldn't be mended, the insurer coughed up the full amount for a new replacement (less £35 excess) and, as soon as the dosh appeared in my bank account, I hastened down to the nearest iPhone merchant and bought one.

I'd had a Blackberry for almost three years (which my employer provided) but I finally decided enough was enough (I hated it) and that, after a good deal of research, I was desperate to have an iPhone.

Hey! An Apple turnover.*

*I'll get me coat

Essence

That word commands rather a lengthy entry in my Oxtail Dictionary of Words & Phrases With Which Is Incorporated Latin Words & Phrases and New Words Introduced Into the English Language. It is simply a feature of speech which unfortunately achieves prominence if you have to wear dentures. This may be part of the natural degenerative process through advancing years or the inevitable consequence of a lack of tooth care - if you choose to believe Pam Ayres – but, however it happens, ensure you acquire some decent ones, or you should avoid singing Gracie Fields' famous song The Biggest Aspidistra In The World, attempting tongue twisters like 'she sells seashells on the seashore', Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven (or, at least, the line that begins "And the silken sad uncertain rustling…"), if you don't want to keep being asked at the Christmas party for a rendition of the Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' song "Whistle While You Work", or Pinocchio's "Give A Little Whistle" or constantly being given the cards in Charades for The Old Grey Whistle Test, Whistle Down The Wind, The Whistle Blower, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café, and, last but by no means least, the memorable 1968 film from the well-known Filipino director Consuelo Osorio, based on the story by Mars Ravelo, Ngitngit ng Pitong Whistle Bomb.

Imagine if Lauren Bacall's immortal lines as Marie "Slim" Browning in To Have And Have Not  had to be changed because poor old Bogie was a sufferer: "You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and blow jam in the false gnashers and say 'ipsissimus'."

Notable proponents of this occupational hazard are John Craven (currently appearing on the BBC's Countryfile) and Sir David Attenborough (currently appearing in most nature programmes on several channels and the BBC's more and more annoyingly frequent ITV-style interludes advertising its  current and upcoming offerings).

I count myself very lucky that I am in the position of not knowing if all dentures exhibit this irritating tendency but, if I were John or Sir Dave*, I'd consult the BBC Props Department. Michael Parkinson (currently reduced to TV commercials for insurance) appears to have the problem beaten, although he can't read the auto-cue without it looking totally obvious that's what he's doing.

Geoffrey Palmer is a very good actor, isn't he?

*polite informality