This morning I stood staring at three, clean mismatched socks and felt the unmistakable surge of despair.  It’s not the socks, not really.  Things go missing all the time in my house.  Those AWOL socks, and their brethren are, I am sure, currently being worn by an over-dressed troll who lives behind our washer.  Right now he is decked out in a pink sweatshirt, my swim goggles, James’s inhaler, William’s elf suit (including red and green tights) and my old messenger bag.  No, nothing new here.  But it made me think about a magazine column I read every week when we lived in London.  It was called “Boring But Important” and covered the various acts playing out in Parliament or a recent police incident over parking in Kensington or the nicking of the Abbey Road sign (again) in St. John’s Wood.