He is a long, thin, bald old man with a tendency towards scruffiness, generally found in a worn old tweed jacket and trousers that bag at the knees. He wears pince-nez on a string around his neck, which he nevertheless often loses. He resents being forced to dress up smartly, especially when he is also called on to address crowds, and most of all loathes having to visit London when the sun is shining.
I then find out that he is supposed to be 59; only a few years older than Graham and Corinna, and only eight years older than myself. Hmmmm.
Are we really all within spitting distance of becoming old buffers? Don't answer that one!