But first I feel the need to share this little cameo with you.
It was yesterday morning and I was queueing up to renew my monthly train ticket between Guiseley, where I live, and Keighley, where I work.
I passed my photocard through the little tray thingy to the ticket man and told him what I wanted.
"Barry White!" he yelled after looking at my card, before turning to his mate in the next booth, and repeating - louder this time - "BARRY WHITE!"
"Yes, that's me," I said, "how much do I owe you?"
"That's very good, VERY GOOD!," he guffawed back. "Barry White! But I'll bet you don't get as much stick as I get!"
"Oh, and why is that?" I enquired.
"Look at my name!" he instructed, pointing at his name badge. "That's right, JOHN GARNETT!"
"So it is," I replied, totally bemused.
"JOHN GARNETT!" he shouted again. "It's just like Alf Garnett!"
"Yes, but with John instead of Alf," I said, glancing through the glass at my train pass in a subliminal attempt to get away.
"The jokes I've had to put up with over the years, especially when I was at school," the 60-odd-year-old ticket seller replied.
"It must have been terrible for you," I said, biting my lip.
"You remember that - John Garnett, just like ALF!" he implored with a final flourish. "It's brilliant, isn't it? Tell your friends!"
And now I have.
So, if you're ever in Guiseley and need to buy a train ticket, look out for John Garnett. Not to be confused with Alf Garnett. Ever.
