While, according to the FT, retiring baby boomers may be leaving other parts of the economy bereft of talent and wisdom (what's Tesco now without Higginson, after all?), the same isn't true in PR.

It's the baby boomers who refuse to retire that are stifling what little remaining talent and wisdom there is at P&F.

We are blessed (her word) by the leadership of Karoline (with a K), an Armani-clad battleship of uncertain mileage. She's clearly 10 years older than she claims though, because she keeps referring to ads from the 1950s that were on TV when she was a girl.

We've learnt not to mention toothpaste in meetings anymore, otherwise it sets off misty eyed reminiscences about how she stood outside the Radio Rentals window to watch the first ever UK TV commercial, for Gibbs SR. Maybe that suspiciously white smile is natural.

Still, reinventing history is the prerogative of the PR harlot. Look at Allinson bread, harking back in The Grocer to its "Victorian heritage" for its new pack designs. A bit of research suggests that would be the Queen Victoria that reigned in the 1930s then. (I know this only because we pitched for their business - and lost. Nobody here knows why. Perhaps we were too accurate.)

And talking of repeated failures, what joy to see James Martin taking on a mission to improve the quality of hospital food. Where Blumenthal, Roux and Grossman (who sound like they could be the firm of lawyers who work for Allinson's) have failed - and no doubt Craddock, Patten and Escoffier before them - in jumps our very own Yorkie man.

As the sort of girl who's professionally immune to celeb endorsements I could usually ignore this. But the thought of sweet baby James spoon feeding me soothing mush as I lie in crisp white sheets is almost enough to fall off my heels and break an ankle for.