I switched beds, and the one I am using now is seriously comfortable. Don't need an alarm these days - if I kip through till six it is a personal triumph. Out to High Elms GC (my previous club until I found one five minutes away rather than fifty) for their Seniors' competition. I played respectably, no more. One of my playing companions felt the need for munchies and had taken a bite from his survival ration sandwich. Then he had to putt, and while his back was turned a carrion crow stole it. Very amusing.

People say that old farts forget, but I had a trip down memory lane with Peter B. I was the junior partner in our fourball pair in a Vets Kent Cup knock-out match about five years ago. We were three down with three to play; we won the last three and went to the 19th for a sudden death playoff. The opposition panicked and yours truly won it with a delicate chip to six inches. Some things you never forget.

It seems that London has been chosen to do the Olympics. I can't understand why that is supposed to be a Good Thing, unless it's a "Blair did it" bit of propaganda. Can we afford it? Vast amounts of money will be poured into the pockets of contractors. There will be endless "last-minute" panics lasting for years. Gordon Brown will be pissed off because he will (I hope) regard it as a huge waste of money. The ridiculous British media will present it as one in the eye for the ghastly Chirac. Still, I don't plan that far ahead, so I won't get cross about it.

Pop music crit. I was led to believe that Coldplay was the greatest band in the universe. So I bought their new album and had a listen last night. Talk about tedious. You can't tell one track from another, and it is heavily over-produced. The singer croons amiably enough, then when he runs out of ideas he goes into falsetto. Jack White has more creativity in his little finger. OK?

I wrote to the Guardian today. Their readers' sort of jokes letters has responded to an article about Swiss army knives being confiscated on flights. Some bloke says it happened to him in 1987. Poof! It happened to me in 1973, flying from Nassau to New York. Beat that, your Guardianistas!

I'm down to pasta and salad tonight. Just like thirty million Italians, so that's all right.