GETTYSons of this generation tend to dwarf their fathers Princes Harry and William tower over Prince Charles. Mine cast shadows I have to move out of. The medical brigade say it is the diet but young men are over an inch taller and maybe two than their fathers’ generation.
It can’t be taking exercise. We walk much less than we did a generation or more ago. We used to walk because we had to or at least ride a sit-up-and-beg bicycle.
Now cycling is done deliberately, not because you have to. And if not bicycle, the youngsters want to ride on four wheels with an engine. Exercise is something you have to go to an expensive gym for.
I don’t recall anyone spending money on a gym 40 years ago – you just walked or cycled and the calories came off. Add to that, calorie-consuming cold in unheated houses.
An open grate in the bedroom is for homes built over 100 years ago at least. But as for height, it must be the diet. And it’s not just in one generation.
In King Henry VIII’s time a normal man was about five feet and four inches.
I don’t recall anyone spending money on a gym 40 years ago – you just walked or cycled and the calories came off
Seeing a picture of Damian Lewis acting Henry in the new Wolf Hall film reminded me that he was a giant of six feet in the early 1500s and must have towered over his courtiers. Peter the Great, 200 years later, was another freak at six foot three.
At this rate my grandson of 20 months will live in a world in 20 years where a young male under six feet will be a rarity, not the other way round.
But of course they died early in the Middle-Ages and yet they must have been immensely strong.
Pick up an ancient sword some time and wield it, just for a few minutes, not for a four-hour battle without any pause.
It will practically pull your arm off.
And as for couch-potato, they didn’t sit on couches and didn’t have potatoes.
So? Well they were short and died early but they were very rarely fat, let alone waddling-obese.
We live in a very contradictory age when it comes to a man’s physique.
Every TV advert urges us to fit the double glazing, turn up the central heating, shovel down the food, pile on the calories, store it in body fat, then pedal furiously down to the gym and go through agonies trying to get it all back off again.
No wonder Henry never needed a personal trainer.
Nor do I recall any in 1945 when we had rationing and coupons and bread-and-dripping and had chilblains in winter with one coal fire in the house.
But none of that explains why the youngsters are shooting upwards.
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LET me be blunt, aware as I am that what I am about to say may well be a minority viewpoint.
Between 10 and eight days ago France witnessed 17 murders by three killers.
The victims were 10 journalists, four shoppers and three police officers.
The reaction inside France and internationally has been staggering and I believe excessive.
Seventeen murders means 17 personal tragedies, 17 groups bereft.
But compare.
In Madrid in March 2004 191 commuters were blown apart in simultaneous explosions at four railway stations.
In July 2005 52 Londoners were murdered by four terrorists on the Tube and a bus.
Did we see miles of newsprint telling us we were fighting for our freedom?
That our entire civilisation was under threat?
No, the Spanish had had years of ETA bombs and we had had 30 years of IRA bombs.
We all know we have new enemies in the form of Islamist jihadis, we know the threat is worldwide and very present in our own countries.
Any fresh revelations here?
Let me be even more blunt.
Seventeen dead is comparable to a bad summer weekend on the roads or a tourist coach rolling down a bank.
Tragic, terrible.
But two million marching feet?
And will almost every president, premier and leader in Europe and half the Middle East march side by side for every terrorist victim yet to come?
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THE cry goes up: why weren't the terrorists caught before they struck?
Simple, they were on the "suss" list of French counterterrorist forces but they now know far better how to avoid detection and eavesdropping.
Who told them?
The American traitor Edward Snowden, now sheltering in Russia.
Did anyone support him in what he did?
Oh yes, the usual claque of luvvies who parade their "consciences" through the media like tarts on Park Lane railings.
In fact one newspaper gave Snowden all the aid it could.
May we hope the retiring editor manages to avoid an honour in the Queen's Birthday list?
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FRANKLY, my dear, I don't give a damn.
I mean whether three, four or five politicos really need to have a so-called TV debate.
In a real debate points are made and countered.
Arguments are conducted with claims and responses.
These political selfies are schooled, rehearsed speeches, written by aides and practised with coaches.
We might as well go to the theatre - at least a play has a climax.
With 10 weeks more to go of this by the end of April we will all be losing the will to live, let alone vote.
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IT is amazing what make-up artists can do.
Like the complete transformation of Eddie Redmayne into Stephen Hawking.
And the change from drab lady's maid Anna Bates of Downton Abbey into glamorous Joanne Froggatt collecting her gong.
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IT IS not our custom to imprison a suspect incommunicado and without charge, arraignment or trial on the grounds that he might do something vicious next year.
That is why we have the rule of law but it has a price.
A suspect can only be put under surveillance.
Following the French murders the usual armchair Foyles have been loud in their wail: why were they not being monitored?
Do you have any idea how many trained "watchers" it takes to keep one man under 24/7 watch?
Eight. Three shifts per 24 hours.
That's 24 men and women.
Then consider weekends, sickness, holidays.
And the headquarters staff listening online in case of a call for back-up in a hurry.
Think 50.
And do the smartypants know how many suspects there are?
How about 1,000?
And do you know how many watchers we have?
Fifty thousand? About a 10th of that figure.
When the threat is bigger than the manpower pool the only thing any security force can do is prioritise.
And sooner or later, as with Mohammed Siddique Khan and Shehzad Tanweer on July 7, 2005, some will slip through the net.
You can have that or dictatorship and the British have repeatedly chosen the Magna Carta and the 1689 English Bill of Rights.
But what we can do is say: if you use our freedoms to declare war on us, for any cause, you will go to prison for the rest of your days.
Democracy does not have to be weak.
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HOW important is the human voice and the accent in which it speaks?
Well it seems to depend on fashion.
Fifty years ago it was hard for Michael Caine with a Cockney accent to get the best parts.
All the Oliviers, Richardsons, Guinnesses and Gielguds spoke like BBC newsreaders in what was called "received pronunciation".
Not speaking like that was "common" and heroes (the main film parts) were never common.
Then came Zulu.
After some coaching Caine played upper-crust Lt Gonville Bromhead - pronounced of course Gunville Brumhead.
And it started.
He moved to Alfie and the insubordinate Harry Palmer.
Within a decade "kitchen sink" was the sought-after dramatic genre.
It was the working class, accent and all, getting into bed with Her Ladyship.
Now it seems to have come full circle.
The lads at the premieres seem to be Benedict Cumberbatch (Harrow) and Eddie Redmayne (Eton.)
But that is just two.
What about Dominic West, Hugh Laurie and Damian Lewis - all Eton?
The once-loved broad Mancunian, Scouse, and Geordie seem to be on the wane because the Americans can't work out what they are saying.
Only Scottish seems to be universally acceptable, as with David Tennant in Broadchurch and elsewhere. (And what is he doing in Dorset anyway?)
A young actor today entering an audition must be somewhat nervous about the voice he would be advised to use.
Try Etonian, lad.
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