YOU didn’t need a degree in psychology to realise the man had reached the end of his tether – as my old Mam would have put it – otherwise he wouldn’t have been shouting loud enough to raise the dead in the city council’s St Aldate's offices.

In his words, he felt ignored and abandoned. This former soldier had hit hard times, had been homeless since last November and was living in a tent with only a hole in the ground for a lavatory.

For whatever reason, the person he needed to see failed to appear. Facing anger and abuse were the hard-pressed reception staff, who although sympathetic, could not resolve his problems on the spot.

But sympathy was not the answer. With no official putting in an appearance the man grew more angry. Eventually the security staff told him they felt obliged to call the police. His reaction was that if they arrested him he might at least get a roof over his head.

The law arrived in the shape of two young female officers – hardly the heavy squad. However, they calmly took control, removing the fuse from this powder keg of emotions. A temporary solution seemed to be found. They encouraged communication – and with it common sense.

They did a first-class job.

WHEN it comes to putting on a show, Oxford Operatic Society can be relied upon to oblige. Their record over the years is legendary and the next production, the hilarious and heart-warming musical, Legally Blonde, should be no exception. It will be staged at the New Theatre from May 27-30.

Director Guy Brigg has been working with his cast of 50-plus for more than a year, long enough to deter the half-hearted while inspiring the dedicated to even greater efforts.

I hope the public gives them the support they deserve.

WHAT a wonderful trio of programmes we had on BBC television on Sunday for the VE Day celebrations. But what a pity there were countless Union Flags, large and small, flying upside down – the sign of distress. There was even one offending flag in the interview suite.

Picky? Pedantic? I may be, but it was attention to detail that won the war.

FINALLY, a story to gladden even the stoniest heart. Five-year-old Sinclair was with his mother Jeanne in Westgate Centre. She recognised me – such is fame or notoriety – and the boy ran over and pressed a £2 coin into my hand.

“Will you send it to the sad boys and girls in Nepal, please? I was going to buy ice cream,” he said, self-denial etched across his young face.

Thank you, Sinclair. Unicef, which looks after children, has accepted your kind gift.