INVENTORS are, I suppose, pretty brainy chaps, but there are also Experts. And that means that they are so out of touch with normal life that they tend to go on inventing things that no-one could conceivably want.

Now they have gone an invented a blue cotton plant and that has put Jetset into a right tizz.

Cotton, I should explain for the kiddywinks, comes from a plant and, since womankind first picked up a needle, it has always bloomed white (or rather, whitish - it has to be bleached to pass for a Persil ad.).

Now, them there bio-geneticists in America have developed plants that blooms blue. And now they can be made into jeans without all the trouble of dying them.

This, of course, will put millions of dyers out of work throughout the world. From a Beggarsdale perspective, however, it will put a large dent in Jetset's bank account.

Now Jetset has being having a bit of a bonanza these past few months. He is, of course, always off to remote corners of the planet buying cheap textiles from underpaid workers in the Third World and, in his own way, has done his bit to add to lengthen already long queues of unemployed Yorkshire textile workers.

Whilst the strong pound has been crippling British farmers, it has also being faced with collapsing currencies throughout the Far East. Which means that Jetset has got a lot more cloth for his pound and can put even more Brits onto the dole.

However, he also imports cheap blue jeans. And as Owd Tom pointed out to hi m with some glee in the Beggars' Arms the other night: "Tha'll have to buy your jeans in the Almighty dollar now ... an' that'll cost thee a pretty penny."

It was an ill-timed remark for Jetset was just about to buy another round (his third of the night ) for he does share some of his ill-gotten gains in an attempt the retain what little popularity he has. .

Instead, he blanched, replaced his wallet, and left. Tom, glowering into his empty pint pot, shook his head and said: "Someday, ah'll learn to keep me big gob shut."

NEWSFLASH: As I predicted, Mean Mike's application to open a burger bar at the post office has caused uproar. Already, Teacher Tess has collected 180 signatures on a protest petition, which is odd in a village of only 130 souls (some say she made all her school kids sign the thing).

Meanwhile, Cousin Kate the post mistress is still away in Australia unaware, as far as we know, of the row back home. The parish council is paralysed into inactivity because, of course, Kate is council chair-man/woman/person.

Mike has taken on one of his cousins from Crookedale to help out in the shop because, during the day, he keeps himself locked in the wire cage that is the post office part of the shop.

He has not been seen on the streets (nor in the Beggars') since the planning notice was posted. Next thing, he'll be asking for police protection. But as the nearest policeman is based on the Moon, he'll have to take care of himself. Watch this space. The Curmudgeon is a satirical column based on a fictitious character in a mythical village.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.