You know you're getting older when you're the same age as the prime minister. Old salmon chops achieved the highest station in the land -- about three hours ago -- aged 43. That gives me about two more days to make something of my life. Gotta set your sights high, 'cos they ain't always riding Shetlands.

Back in the time of Arthur C Clarke, our little local by-election was contested by the admirably monosyllabic Mole, West and Munt, three characters straight from The Wind In The Willows. As time passed, our incumbent insectivourous MP failed to move with the times: surnames, like hair, have lengthened. Chris Mole, get thee to the deed poll. Would have taken a mere five letters to morph into Molesworth.

This time around, then, no chance for red Mole up against yellow Dyson and blue Gummer. Nope, not John Selwyn, he of the BSE brouhaha, but his son, Ben. Did you watch The Thick Of It? If not, go and buy those DVDs now. There's a couple of episodes featuring an aspiring politician called Ben Swain. Facing Paxo on Newsnight, he performs disastrously and starts rapidly opening and closing his eyes. Thereafter he's forever referred to as Blinky Ben.

Ben Gummer's dad, John don't call me Selwyn, was one of the many MPs all over the papers last year in the expenses scandal. Super ironically, JSG received hundreds of pounds for -- guess what -- mole removal. They say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.