grand finale to her speech was imminent.

As her voice rose up the decibel count, her words moved from a canter to a gallop, and her finger pointing at The Royal Gazette reporter gained ever in intensity, MPs in the House of Assembly waited in high expectation.

But then -- oh, blast! It would happen wouldn't it? -- the infernal telephone rang, bringing down the curtain on the show, albeit momentarily.

Brrr...brrr...brrr...try, as she might, Miss Webb could not ignore the infuriating sound coming from the mobile phone on the bench behind her.

Pausing in proceedings, she tapped with a practised hand on the darn newfangled object, but it was all to no avail.

Brrr...brrr...brrr...

For an interruption to a politician's speech, who could argue it didn't have a novel ring? "Obviously your friends don't listen to Parliament, otherwise they would know not to ring when you're speaking,'' one wag quipped.

Finally, it was left to her Government counterpart Jerome Dill, Minister of Human Affairs, to do the honourable thing and save the day.

He carried the offending object out of the chamber, allowing Miss Webb to continue her invective against The Royal Gazette , and build up to a suitable climax.

* * * Long known as Kindley Field, the Island's airport will soon be renamed Bermuda International.

Did you know the US Navy Airport was named after Capt. Field Kindley, an American WW1 hero? And that while Kindley Field will disappear, there will remain a Field Kindley High School in Coffeyville, Kansas, and a Field Kindley Memorial Park in his home town of Gravette, Arkansas? Capt. Kindley, credited with shooting down 12 enemy aircraft in the Great War, was awarded both the British Distinguished Flying Cross and the American Distinguished Service Cross.

But with understandable jitteriness in Bermuda as the Country takes over its own Airport for the first time, there is at least one good reason why the airfield should not continue to bear his name.

Capt. Field Kindley died in 1920 -- in a plane crash.

* * * A Finance Minister's paperwork is never finished -- at least not when your name is David Saul.

As you can imagine, the good doctor has had a busy time of late, what with fine-tuning his Budget, and ironing out any wrinkles.

That tidy-minded approach to life, however, extends well beyond the hallowed sanctums of his Ministry and the House of Assembly, our spies have informed us.

Recently, a Notebook informant tailed Dr. Saul down Reid Street, noting how his fast-moving quarry stooped every so often to pick up a piece of offending litter and thrust it into a bin.

Increasingly curious, our mole finally confronted the doctor for a Ministerial explanation.

Was it just a case of an astute politician hoping to pick up a few brownie points -- along with handfuls of litter -- with the public? Not at all, came the response.

"I do this all the time.'' Dr. Saul figures, if everybody followed his example, the Island would be litter-free.

Whether his sums add up or not is anyone's guess, but one thing can be taken for granted.

Opposition MPs, who often view Dr. Saul as a man born over-Budget in the smugness department, would have loved to see him stoop ... even if it is for a handful of litter.