Immediately after the very strong opening weekend of this year's Edinburgh International Festival, Harry Reid dusted off a series of old canards about the capital and its annual jamboree that I really should not let pass without comment before the event concludes.
The tale has the air of the apocryphal, but it is said that an early performance of Sir David Lyndsay's Ane Satyre Of The Thrie Estaitis was greeted with an ecstatic cry from one audience member of "Whaur's yer Wullie Shakespeare noo?"
I was extremely interested to note that pianist Andras Schiff is appearing at this year's Festival where, in the Usher Hall, he'll play a mixed programme of sonatas by Beethoven, Bartok, Janacek and Schubert.
Most countries embrace wry tropes about the national character of the "of course we Finns are really miserable" variety, but generally it is all done with the equivalent of a Gallic shrug or a Teutonic wink.
The opening ceremony of the Commonwealth Games had John Barrowman, the closing one had Kylie Minogue in thigh-high boots and a basque, which made the last night camper than the first, although only just.
No doubt the corporation is well used to abuse from certain sections of the print media and licence-fee loathers in general, but when the The Herald letters page carries BBC-dissing from mild-mannered lawn bowl aficionados, it is surely time to leap to Auntie's defence.
It would be disingenuous of me to pretend that I am full of anticipation for the opening ceremonials of the XXth Commonwealth Games, and I know I am not alone in being less than hugely excited by the prospect of the opportunity to Celebrate in the company of Lulu, Rod Stewart and Susan Boyle.