Paper Monitor
A service highlighting the riches of the daily press.
It has been apparent for many years that the pop music festival is now as much a part of the British society summer season as Glyndebourne or the Proms.
So, too, is the newspaper feature in which a middle-aged refusenik, accustomed to upper-middle-class life's many fineries - say, or - braves the mud and loud noise of Glastonbury and Reading, and finds it wanting, but learns a valuable lesson about something.
And today that most small-and-large-c conservative of papers, the Daily Telegraph,
This is not the clash of cultures on which such articles thrive. Latitude is, after all, widely regarded as the cosiest, most family-friendly and socially upscale of its genus, and is regularly described as the "Waitrose of festivals".
Mr Gimson may be reluctant to attend, convinced that £170 is "grotesque amount to pay for the privilege of sleeping in a field", but, grudgingly brought along by his teenage daughters, he comes to appreciate the experience. "But my idea of a good time is still walking along Offa's Dyke in the rain," he concludes, with what is perhaps the most Daily Telegraph sentence ever written.
A more surprising juxtaposition of social mores comes from whom, it transpires, is a keen admirer of the British monarchy.
The author of Murder Was the Case and Gin and Juice declares: "If I ever got to Buckingham Palace, oh my, I'd be like 'Well hello Queen ma, pleased to meet you'."
For such an occasion, he promises, he would wear "the flyest suit you'd ever seen and a fly hat to go with it because I know the good lady likes wearing hats... I heard she likes yellow so I'd make it yellow".
He also promises to produce some "baby-making music" for the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. Paper Monitor keenly awaits the results, by royal appointment.