I like to think, although in my eighties, I have all my marbles. But I cannot help but feel confused.

One day (February 1), The Argus sneeringly informs us "ageing heart-throb David Essex" is to perform at a newly upmarket Butlins Bognor and the next gives several pages to an astonishingly sycophantic account of Fatboy Slim.

What are we to make of all this? Is Mr Essex expected to defy the laws of nature and live in some Einsteinian time-warp with nary a wrinkle about him?

At what date will Mr Slim qualify for your strong-arm treatment?

Moreover, should we dismiss the views of several women of my acquaintance who assert that, time notwithstanding, they admit without a blush to feeling considerably more stirred by Mr Essex than they do by the rough-hued Mr Slim who, I am told, is not that much younger than him?

Mr Essex was born in 1947 - not so long ago. I remember it well.

I cannot help but feel your sneer at him means our funding of the council's "Celebrating Diversity" stunt has been wasted on The Argus, which is evidently locked into a narrow point of view.

-Charles Goode, Third Avenue, Hove