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Just where are my Superman pyjamas?

You know ... politicians are a pack of ingrates. I don't know why I'm surprised about that - but take the recent War on Iraq as an example of just how short their memories are.

Regular readers of this column will note that it was this old fellow who put a bit of spine in George Dubya Bush, Tony Blah and Spain's PM when they were wussing out over what to do against Soddy Hussein.

Here's the link Hobnobbing in the Azores.

Now it is fair to say that the guys owe me a little thanks, but what do I get? Nothing. A big fat 0. Zippo. Not even a 3am phone call from Dubya saying thanks for the advice.

So, if I'm not surprised why moan about it in a column?

Well, it's like this ... after all my effort, Dubya has crowned his new best mate and dubbed him "a man of steel".

Immediately I thought it was me and I puffed my chest out - almost cracking three calcifying ribs in the process - only to discover that Jezebel Bush picked our blinking PM John Howard as a "a man of steel".

Now I have a lot of time for JWH, who has grown into his job as this country's elder statesman, but it has only come through my bloody hard work.

First there was the clipping of the eyebrows, then the dental work, but more importantly was my advice in sticking to his guns and being keen to send the troops into East Timor then Iraq.

So for him to get the "a man of steel" title is just a little painful. Sob, I don't want to talk about it anymore ....

Grumpy Old Coot has a warped view of life, check him out

If there is something that has really got up your nose, let Grumpy Old Coot know at grumpy@webwombat.com