8th October

Count Metternich (no, not the furry version, the real one) was appointed Foreign Minister in Vienna today in 1809. He stayed in office until 1848 as 'the coachman of Europe' directing and manipulating everybody with his craftiness and army of secret police. That's why I gave that cute little bundle of fur the name all those years ago - I can recognize a serial killer when I see one.

In other news ...
Chicago almost burned to the ground today in 1871 when Mrs O'Leary's cow knocked over a lantern in a barn in Dekoven Street. Under interrogation, using the good cow, bad cow (and incidentally giving the name to an otherwise anonymous disease) system we've all seen so many times, the animal confessed to being a serial arsonist, admitting to similar fires in London (1666), Warwick (1694) and London again in 1861.

29th February

Make the most of this one - any History that happens today won't happen again for another four years (except the repeats on the Discovery and History channels). As Disraeli once described the 1867 Reform Act, it was 'a leap year in the dark' (don't worry - nobody knew what he was talking about at the time, either).

So, on this day in 1960, Hugh Hefner opened the Playboy Club in Chicago and introduced the w0rld to gorgeous, scantily clad waitresses posing as rabbits. Strictly no hanky-panky however - you can look, but you can't touch. Hefner was brought up a strict Methodist and started his career on a shoestring with Playboy magazine (about as racy as Hello is today, but mind-bogglingly naughty in its day). So could we say that Hughie is a porn-again Christian?
No.

In other news ...

A birthday back in 1792 on this day has prompted an idea for a brilliant TV show. Gioacchino Rossini, composer and chef, was born on 29 February (so, of course, he was four on his first birthday - see Gilbert and  Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance for a mathematical explanation). One of the excellent pieces Rossini composed was the William Tell Overture, you know, the one the Lone Ranger used to gallop to on Saturday evening tv back in the '50s - duddle dum, duddle dum, duddle dum dum dum - you know the one. For my younger follower, it is the Dove for Men advert.

Well, combining Rossini's talents, how about a cookery programme (now, there's a novelty) in which a series of terrified, gormless hopefuls have to rustle up, say, Tournedos Rossini at the speed of the Overture? That way, all cookery programmes would last only a few minutes and we can watch something worthwhile.

25th January

Exactly thirty one years ago, the 'Gang of Four' came into being. No, not the Chinese counter-revolutionaries of the same name, but a rather more benign quartet - David Owen, Shirley Williams, Roy Jenkins and Bill Rodgers. They broke away from the Labour Party and formed the Social Democrats, which to those of us with an historical bent sounded like something out of the German Weimar Republic back in the Twenties. They spent most of their time deciding exactly what their party should be called so that today we have that august and impressive body known as the Lib-Dems.
Well done, guys!

In other news ...
Al Capone died today in 1947. As mobsters go he was right up there with Paul Muni, Robert de Niro, Neville Brand, Jimmy Cagney, Humphrey Bogart, George Raft, Tom Hanks and Johnny Depp. At the height of his power he ran a vast bootlegging empire based in Chicago and is reckoned to have earned $105 million in 1927 alone (more or less my annual teacher's salary). By the time of his death, he had nothing and had done eleven years in prison for tax evasion.
So crime doesn't pay, then. Unless you're a taxman.