Splendid news! The Rolling Stones will not "play" Ireland this summer. For this relief, much thanks; though apparently some people are "gutted".
The news that they had planned to come here was first announced on Sky News (sic) by "celeb" presenter, Tellytubby-in-Chief, Eamonn Holmes. He was interviewing a group who could have been elderly residents of a Texan nursing home "live from Dallas" - but turned out to be "Mick and the boys" - though the old rockers looked less credibly animated than Podge and Rodge. This PR stunt, designed to flog tickets for a horse that should long ago have gone to the knacker's yard, was simply plugging dates for, yawn, yet another world tour, this time called A Bigger Bang.
It will need to be pretty loud given the late-middle-age profile of the band's fan base, many of whom now wear hearing-aids. Among other world hot spots, the band announced triumphantly that it would perform in a number of venues "in the UK - Wembley Stadium, Edinburgh [ in fact, it will be Glasgow], Sheffield, Cardiff and Dublin".
Now the Irish capital may well have been a UK city when the Stones first hit the road but really they should try to read the odd newspaper between gigs. And Sky's news presenters could also do with a refresher course in geopolitics.
Anyway, presumably the airheads who tried to book a venue couldn't find Dublin on maps of the UK. So didn't we have a lucky escape? Sadly, though, there's no shortage of "bus-pass pop" around. Bob Dylan (luring ageing hippies to Kilkenny tonight); The Eagles (whose never-ending "Farewell Tour" should really be renamed "The Greed Tour"); Johnny (the Lord preserve us) Mathis; Billy Joel, Van Morrison; Janis Ian and The Hollies are among the "singers" and "groups" croaking at over-priced, shoddy venues around Ireland this summer. And there's potentially worse to come.
People you thought were dead or at least long-retired to "Avalon" on the Sussex coast - from The Who to Pink Floyd to Led Zeppelin - are "reconvening" and planning new careers and tours.
What's next? Roy Orbison "doing" Carlow? Elvis "gigging" in Thurles? Stranger things in the night can happen. The latest hit in London's West End is called The Rat Pack - Live from LA. But they're not. Alive, that is. Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis jnr and Dean Martin have all gone to the eternal gig in the sky. Recently, advertisements appeared offering "corporate hospitality" packages for a George Michael concert in Dublin. Which quite simply beggars belief.
Really, isn't it time these people put a sock in it? But why should they? When fans squeeze themselves into tight jeans (tip - try the new Marks & Spencer range: "Easy-Fit - The Waist Moves With You") and make a holy show of themselves by flocking to concerts to recapture their youth - to the unspeakable embarrassment of their children and grandchildren?
Shouldn't they be at home, feet snugly slippered, with a comforting mug of Ovaltine, doing The Irish Times crosswords, and listening to that nice Vincent Browne?
But refusing to grow up isn't limited to musical tastes. "Isn't Harry Potter great, the way he has all the kids reading?" is a sentiment usually expressed by people whose last book purchase was Rules of the Road.
But worse, much worse, than praising JK Rowling's books is adults reading them.
If you saw a suited man on the Luas, aged around 25, reading one of the Enid Blyton Noddy series you'd smile sympathetically and think "Ah sure, God love him. Isn't he harmless?"
Yet step into a rail carriage and you will be confronted by grown men with their noses stuck into The Prisoner of Azkahban. The publishers, Bloomsbury, aware of growing interest among older readers, have issued "adult versions" of all the Potter books. This does not, thank goodness, involve saucy goings-on at Hogwarts - for the text is unchanged - but the cover designs are purportedly more sophisticated.
Other prolific offenders include Dan Brown, author of serial nonsense including the ludicrously puerile The Da Vinci Code and Terry Pratchett.
But what to do? Pull the emergency cord? Call the ticket inspector? Have a go at wrestling the wretched time away - and like the dodgy salesman in the Daz ads of old suffer the humiliation of their refusing your offer to swap it for two John Banville novels? Probably best to submissively move to another compartment.
Almost 50 years after the introduction of free education, and with just about every second gangling youth going to "Uni" or some other dodgy purveyor of degrees of incompetence, the infantilisation of our culture continues apace. The director of the Star Wars films, George Lucas, gave the game away in a recent interview when he revealed that the target audience for his films is 12-year-olds.
No surprise there then, except, of course, to the millions of childish adults who gush about how wonderful this utter tosh is.
Again, men. Have you ever, ever heard a woman say, "I'd really love to go to see Revenge of the Sith?