AS compliments go, this one was just a tad backhanded. It was like the old chat-up line, "You don't sweat much for a fat lass", ie, not likely to whelm one over much.

As Frankie Howerd probably said, never had my ghast been so flabbered.

This compliment, if thus it can be called, came from an esteemed former colleague, someone I hadn't seen for several years, but recently had the pleasure of meeting up with again.

"I always read your column on a Tuesday," he said. So far, so good. "And I enjoy it very much." Cue chest puffed out with pride. "It makes me laugh, but..."

Drat, why does there always have to be a "but"?

"But," he continued. "You are becoming a bit of a Victor Meldrew, aren't you?"

Honestly, I thought, how very dare you! I really don't know what stopped me screeching, "I don't belieeeve it!"

Instead, I just nodded sagely, thanked him for his kind words... and realised that he was absolutely right.

So, with the rain falling and sales of brass monkey trousers going through the roof, I've decided to do something about this Grumpy Old Man malarkey and write a column full to bursting with optimism and cheery bonhomie, savoir-faire and maybe even a bit of ipso facto al fresco, too.

This week, then, I won't be climbing my soapbox to spout off on topics such as...

  • Drivers of Chelsea tractors (or Sandbanks tanks, as they're known in these parts);
  • The fact that you're more likely to see Lord Lucan riding Shergar down your local street than you are to encounter a beat bobby;
  • Cheating and overpaid Premiership footballers; and
  • The complete rubbish and utter drivel that passes for TV entertainment these days.

Why, as a favour to my old mucker, I won't even mention Davina McCall (she really gets my goat, that woman).

And, in a spirit of friendship and goodwill to all, this will be a Beckham-free zone (and there aren't many of those around), with nary a word about Big Brother.

Instead, let's focus on something positive.

Like how the authorities in Beijing are pulling out all the stops in the build-up to the Olympics to wipe out the widespread practice of spitting.

When I lived in the Chinese capital 20 years ago, it took me several months to acclimatise, culturally speaking. And I never did get used to all the expectorating that went on. Everywhere you went, there'd be people, ahem, clearing their sinuses - in a most vigorous way, at that.

So isn't it great that the Chinese are encouraging people to call a halt to this extremely antisocial habit?

How's that for taking a positive attitude!

And just think how wonderful it would be if we could persuade an increasing number of young men over here to desist from this disgusting habit as well...