Carry On, Britain

London has always been a pessimistic rumour mill, full of gossip about how bad things are going to get. Or how bad they already are. But if you want a really accurate guide to the state of our city, look no further than the guy selling baked potatoes outside my office in Covent Garden.

A year ago, you'd stand in line for ten minutes to get one; today, you'll be served immediately, and with a smile. Perhaps understandably, the American tourists we were expecting simply aren't coming. Even the testosterone filled gentlemen of the Australian Rugby team have cancelled their trip here.

Our famous West End theatres have also been hit hard, but they're fighting back and it's mostly Americans who seem to be our secret weapon. The Broadway cast of Kiss Me Kate opens tonight; Ned Beatty is starring in Cat On A Hot Tin Roof; and Joan Collins, remember her, the super bitch of Dynasty?... well, she's back on stage with your Frank Langella in a show called Over The Moon. On Broadway, it was called Moon Over Buffalo, but I'm afraid that we Brits don't realise that Buffalo is a city in America as well as a large horned animal, so the show had to be renamed. Whatever the title, Ms. Collins spends a good deal of the play in stockings, suspenders and a basque ... looking fabulous, at sixty eight years of age.

And Jackie Mason is in London, packing them in at The Queens Theatre. He told me that he thought the only difference between now and a more innocent and less stressed time, is that audiences laugh louder and applaud the same jokes louder than they used to. So, as Mayor Giuliani suggested, we'll carry on. Personally I'd rather have one Jackie Mason here than the entire Australian Rugby team. As he said when I asked him if he'd considered cancelling: "What, quit? Just because some Rugby Players don't fly? Forget it, I've got more guts than them."