Mac the Knife in need of his own musical theme.
HOW times change, thought Mr Brocklebank as he tucked into a big feast at Liverpool Council''s Be Proud Awards.
Where last year, Warren Bradley and Colin Hilton graced the stage to reward staff for their endeavours over the previous year, this time round it was the gift of new council leader Joe Anderson and interim chief executive David McElhinney - "Dave and Joe, as they were so lovingly referred to by the compre for the evening.
While the event was very well executed, Mr Brocklebank couldn''t help but feel a trick had been missed: each award was introduced with a piece of apt music.
Why then, when the feared Mr McElhinney - now inevitably dubbed Mac the Knife by underlings in anticipation of a round of cuts and job losses - took the stage, did we not hear the strains of "Oh the shark has pretty teeth, dear..."
And which senior Labour councillor had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the bar in St George''s Hall at the end of the Be Proud Awards? The portly politician was last seem grumbling about the bar shutting at 10pm, before making his wobbly way towards the Ship and Mitre. Perhaps his grumble about the Be Proud bar prices was well-justified. Small beer it wasn''t.
OH THE power. It looks like it is going to Mr Brocklebank's head.
Two weeks ago, wearing his man of the people hat, he pulled up the Liverpool Everyman Theatre for not paying its respects to Robert Tressell, whose Ragged Trousered Philanthropists is such a key work of early 20th century radical fiction. The Everyman is staging an adaptation of the book, but somehow failed to acknowledge that the Dublin-born author died and is buried in Liverpool.
But now he is delighted to see that the usual visit to the grave in Walton has been duly made and recorded. Right on, comrades! LIVERPOLITANS with roots to the west of Offa's Dyke will squirm just a little at the cry that Manchester is taking Liverpool's water.
It has long been the Welsh contention that Liverpool in its turn has been taking water which by rights belongs to Wales.
Lake Vyrnwy has been there since the 1880s and is an accepted part of the local landscape. But Llyn Celyn near Bala is a creation of the 1960s, and feelings still run high over the drowning of the village Capel Celyn to keep Merseyside in water.
Mr Brocklebank's Welsh antecedents have been grumbling for nigh on half a century over the Llyn Celyn issue. Now the grumbles are coming from much nearer home, it seems.