The name has pretty much disappeared now, its small window long since closed. So what have we to show, Lineker aside, (and I often enlist Gascoigne as well)? Not much.
I was chatting to another Carina author on Facebook last night. I happened to mention that there's not one Gary but two on Carina's books, plus I'd bumped into another novelist so-named on Twitter. I made a glib, self-effacing, throwaway comment, honed over 51 years.
“I never knew it was possible for so many Garys to be literate to be honest.”
I liked his answer.
“As a teacher, I think it is fantastic that Garys are finally making a positive mark on world culture, especially after Mr Glitter has let the side down so spectacularly.”
Reminded me of this old thing...
Isobel, over the centuries not much has changed;
The most important thing about a man remains his name.
Take, for example, a man named Ralph.
Don't date him if he rhymes with Alph.
But if he tells you he's called Rafe,
Fellate him first, then make him wait.
Want to meet someone who's as sound as pounds,
Head for a bar in the best part of town;
Shout out “Torquil” and when someone turns round,
Go and say, “Oh, there you are. It's your round..”
Forget all that nonsense about love, what a bore;
It's a myth put around to keep poor people poor.
And whatever you do, please don't marry
A loser with a name like Wayne or Gary.