THERE was a line in Ronnie Barker’s Open All Hours where Arkwright is asked if he is going to someone’s funeral.

“Yes,” he replied, then grumbled, “Even though it’s very unlikely that he’ll ever come to mine.”

I mention that because, even though death is probably the last taboo subject, we can still treat it with a degree of levity.

Until it comes to the real thing.

As a boy I can remember the angst of kissing the body of my dead Grandad. And fighting back a smile that day when our funeral cortege passed some of my schoolmates who saw me staring out of a funeral procession car window.

Even then I knew that was wrong and that it was important to show respect. The passing of a life is a time for reflection and homage.

Today, I will stand still if a funeral cortege passes me in the street. It is a small thing but, I hope, recognises the importance of the occasion to the family affected as well as a recognition of their loss.

And I find it truly bewildering to hear that one in eight drivers has witnessed other motorists swearing and making hand gestures at corteges.

Some motorists seem to think that being inside the bubble of their cars excuses them from behaving in a normal, civilised fashion. I am sure that the very same people who act so boorishly in cars would never dream of behaving so disrespectfully towards a funeral procession if they were pedestrians on the street.

When I part this mortal coil, I would like people to behave with courtesy at the very least at my funeral.

I will for sure. It’s the one occasion I can guarantee I’ll get to on time.