The music has stopped. Don’t panic. There is no shortage of chairs. There are plenty of chairs. Oh, no! someone has pulled the chair out from under you. That is not fair. Mummyanddaddy.com reserve the right to change the rules if it suits them. Mummyanddaddy.com are right behind you watching your every move, but mummyanddaddy.com reserve the right to run when scared. Mummyanddaddy.com contend that gogogaga.com failed to declare key facts before commencing the game. Mummyanddaddy.com would not have started playing Oranges and Lemons if they knew that gogogaga.com had no previous business experience, no viable source of income, no control of their spending habits and nothing to lose. The party planner would like to clarify the meaning of the phrase “when I am rich, say the bells of Shoreditch” and contend that your loft in Curtain Road should be sold to persons approved by them and rated by hackney Council for B2 live/work rest and play use. And that goes for the chairs too, particularly those Hermann Miller Eames ones from SCP.

The music has started again. Don’t panic. There is no shortage of chairs. There are plenty of chairs. There are cheap chairs and expensive chairs, comfy chairs and absurd chairs. You should always find room in your home, your flat, your luxury loft or whatever, for the chair you found in the street, the first chair you had, the box that your computer came in, the stool with a wobbly leg, the one you painted with orange paint from woolies. You may need it later when some declares unilateral musical chairs on you and asks for the sofa bed back that they lent you in 1993. If you don’t take precautions you could end up playing musical statues instead which is more artistic but how long can you stay on your feet before your arts council grant runs out or you are tempted by one of those “nothing to pay until ( you are famous)” deals from Mr. Saatchi. Which brings me neatly full circle to where all the chairs are going; the advertising agencies are bursting with fantastic chairs; they are throwing out design classics with the empty champagne bottles.

I am not fooled by this government’s attempts to distract attention from their swing to the right by dismissing musical chairs, and espousing the musical statues socio-economic model. Musical Statues would give uncle Tony the chance to share out the prizes equally between the slow, ugly children and the ones who’s parent’s bought them the wrong brand of trainers, and to reward the ones who tried hard but fell over and to encourage the development of new and interesting movements in sculpture that patently could never stand up on their own. Like the old style liberal lefty BBC, standards could be held for others to follow; standing still in the period style; standing still in the garden, standing still in the kitchen. No, Tony is musical chairs man; he wants to breed a nation of strong competitive types who will fight for seats at the European and Pacific Rim fusion restaurant that he is opening in Upper Street. And having created a strong market presence and brand image for these particular seats, he can sell the chairs that are taken away to raise cash for to compensate farmers for their loss of enjoyment when he finally has to ban fox hunting.

The thing is, no one can force you to play musical chairs or go to expensive restaurants in Islington or live in a loft. Sooner or later mummyanddaddy.com will have to bow to the pressure of the children screaming for cake, balloons, and party bags and they will realise that if you play musical chairs with very young ones things are bound to end in tears. And they will cleaning up the vomit and cheese puffs while the dudes from gogogaga.com are giving the bumps to their next victim. Happy 4th Birthday Willow.