It was kinda sad to hear of the death of Arthur Miller yesterday (well, as sad as it ever is when an 89 year old man dies). I've always been a bit of a fan. Not least because he looks like the symbol which appears on my VCR display when I put a tape in...

........

... but also because (as mentioned here) he was very nearly responsible for me writing a play about a singing shark.

Fortunately his death has received the reverent coverage it deserved. The Independent gave the story the front page treatment with a photo, an obituary, and the headline:

DEATH OF A PLAYWRIGHT
ARTHUR MILLER 1915-2005

... while The Sun went with...

Monroe Ex Dies

... and a couple of paragraphs about breasts.

It must be reassuring to know that as the greatest playwright of the twentieth century, people will still only remember you for marrying a cheap blonde.

Anyhoo, yesterday evening was a turning point in my life. After years of resisting the temptation, I finally bowed to public pressure (I blame my father) and joined Ebay. It's definitely a bad idea. I've always avoided the place on the grounds that once I join and start browsing, I'll immediately find numerous items which I never knew I needed but suddenly can't do without, and I'll be filing for bankruptcy within the week.

But obviously the item I've bid for is a bargain, and I really DO need it. I won't reveal what it is (it's a dog-eat-dog world and I don't trust the readers of my blog not to outbid me), but I'm currently top of the tree with a whopping bid of £5.05.

Only trouble is, I'm due to be on the M1 heading towards Yorkshire when the auction ends, so I can sense a last minute disappointment here...