The strange mannerisms of Boris and Alex
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Chief Inspector Charles LaRousse Dreyfus?
He was Inspector Clouseau’s boss in the Pink Panther movies. Played brilliantly by the Czech actor Herbert Lom, he will be long remembered for his facial tic, one that progressively worsened as Clouseau (Peter Sellers) repeatedly bungled his investigations. If you haven’t seen any of the movies, then during these difficult times I thoroughly recommend that you do.
Of course a tic of the face is an involuntary spasm of a muscle, often around the cheek or the eye. If you get one, then you can no more control it than you can control a sneeze.
In parallel to a tic are the mannerisms that some people unconsciously develop.
They repeatedly do something, particularly under stress, that they have no idea they are doing. It’s a bit like rubbing your chin when you are thinking. These are also involuntary actions – and by way of striking a lighter note I’d like to describe two very powerful people who have these repetitive mannerisms.
Alexander Elliot Anderson Salmond. I started this column with a long name, so let’s continue. For a number of years I sat diagonally behind the former First Minister in the Scottish Parliament. And this is what I saw.
In answering a question, or particularly when attacking an opponent, he would bound to his feet, and as his words cascaded out, his left hand would make a characteristic aggressive chopping motion - while his right hand ... quite strangely his right hand would creep round to his right buttock, which would then be squeezed repeatedly. Clearly Alex Salmond had no idea that he was doing this. But it happened just about every time. You can take my word for it.
Now this is not to be all superior to Alex Salmond because, truth to tell, I will surely also have an unknown mannerism or two. I just don’t know what they are. And I also want to take you to one that you can see every Wednesday at noon.
Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson – there I go again – has a routine at Prime Minister’s Questions. It is one that I first noticed sometime before the pandemic. It’s the biro pen in the right hand to top left inside breast pocket.
“Well, er, ah, in answering the, er, Right Honourable gentleman, um...”
Left hand opens left breast of jacket - and from the right hand, plop, into the pocket goes the biro. Every time. Unless of course it’s a friendly question from someone behind him. But a potentially difficult question, then out it comes again.
Why doesn’t he simply lay it on the despatch box? Now he is being cross-examined every week by the new Labour leader Keir Starmer, that wretched pen is in and out of his pocket quick as lightning. Indeed I now fear for the state of the pocket itself and the lining of his jacket. Next time watch for yourself. See if you can beat my record of 18 times.
It’s easy to poke fun though. A good while back I had a female adder living in my garden. I called her Sybil and I wrote about her in this column. On the Friday it was published, Heather in my office laid the local papers on my desk. Finished the Ross-shire Journal – now time for the Raggie. I lifted the NT up – and then swore and shot to my feet, my coffee literally hitting the ceiling. Heather had hidden a rubber snake between the newspapers. A most involuntary action...
