Well, I seem to have done my usual and opened up a proper "Pandora's Box"
again.

Let me try and put your collective grey matters to rest.

MY intent in "What ifs ...." was typically British irony.

Dear FM, who despised (or at least presented that image) the tabloid press,
would have, probably, turned down any job offer from the "legitimate press"
on the grounds that they were "a bunch of stuck up poufs".  I make no claim
to have changed his sexual proclivities and if you examine (although not too
closely) many of the pundits of the fashion world, they do seem to have a
leaning towards "gayness".  Now, don't get me wrong 'cos I'm not in any way
decrying or deprecating anyone who is gay, far from it, but Freddie had a
'campness' that couldn't have been pulled out of him with wild horses.  The
image of this camp, svelte being making pronouncements on behalf of the
"Sun" related to fashion and art, is exactly the juxtaposition of
philosophies that I was attempting (and Oh Lord how I failed) to put across.
Fred would see it as the ultimate challenge - to make money from a media
channel that he despised on a subject that he might just have been brilliant
at.

So, PLEASE don't anyone dare rake up that old chestnut about gays, bigotry
in the States, Fred's sexuality on the back of my little piece.  It was
intended as trivial, not a debating point, mind you ...........

The image which most amused me was that of our Dear John being an apprentice
gynaecologist and then inventing something that he knew would come in useful
in his coming years.  The professional father, is, the one closest to
reality and he was the hardest to 'lampoon'.  Having worked for GEC in my
earlier incarnation ( I was young AND innocent then!), I could just picture
JD in tank top and brown, high button leather "reefer" , driving an ancient
Vauxhall Viva (it just has to be grey) pulling into the car park with his
briefcase stuffed full of leftover ideas and sandwiches full of healthy
stuff such as bananas and custard (he would be too absent minded to notice).
His hair wouldn't have changed much and would be (naturally) frizzy and sit
like a sonombulent ferret askew his pate, he would be wearing Farah flairs
in a fetching black hopsack material and his zip up Chelsea boots.  He has,
by now, turned down his third promotion, preferring to work on his
inventions which include a patented design for left handed electric
teaspoons, a non-drip coffee pot (subsequently rejected by Motorway cafe's
on the grounds (Coffee grounds geddit!) that to bring them into common usage
would deprive their cleaning staff of a job) and a self cleaning record
needle that blew the fluff off the stylus - he doesn't know about CDs!

Having rejected the chance to join some musical group at university (he felt
that playing an electric bass was somehow demeaning and below him), John
went back to Leicester (Oadby to be precise) and formed the Oadby Octet a
free form Jazz Funk outfit for which he plucked a double bass and
occasionally sang.  His inventiveness, in terms of practical items, flowed
into music and he has written a short musical dissertation about a
fictitious WW2 fighter ace called Boggles.  His eleven sons (remember that
they are all at some stage of a career for Leicester City) have persuaded
him to write a piece for their forthcoming FA Cup Final appearance.  A
regular at Filbert Street, he has struck up an acquaintance with "Old Big
Ears" Gary Lineker and has written a parody of one of the world's favourite
Christmas Carols for his new Winter advertising campaign under the title
"Deep and Crisp and Even".

Yours ironically

KYA

FT