Article George Michael is a national treasure, despite the funny fags

[George Michael]

Oh, but it is hard not to feel sorry for George Michael, isn't it?

Yes, his tendency to drive while under the influence of cannabis is potentially dangerous, but Michael isn't wilfully malicious. He never meant to cause anyone any harm; he never actually did cause anyone any harm. Indeed, you could argue that the Hampstead branch of Snappy Snaps, into which Michael rammed his car in July, has profited from an enhanced profile as a direct consequence, along with the entire chain. And he is so obviously ill-equipped – physically and emotionally – to spend eight weeks in clink.

Let's face it, George Michael occupies a special place in the hearts of the British public. We are enormously fond of him and we hate to see him hit bad times.

Our fondness is partly rooted in the fact that he has made some phenomenally good pop music. Michael peaked as a solo artist with 1987's Faith and you have to wonder how much his predilection for funny fags has affected him creatively.

But Wham! were a staggeringly good all-in pop proposition, easily one of the best this country has ever produced. They were cartoonishly pretty and upbeat, but also musically deft and inventive and lyrically inspired.

The unexpected chord change on the chorus of Last Christmas is a thing of great beauty; I could write entire theses on the homoerotic subtext of Young Guns, while Wham! Rap was every bit as subversively politically as anything Frankie Goes to Hollywood ever produced.

Beyond the music, we are deeply fond of Michael as a long-term feature of the celebrity landscape.

For a formerly closeted gay man, he has pursued life in an unapologetic and shame-free manner for the last 15 years.

You get no sense that he ever bothers trying to hide anything from us, in the manner of other, more suppressed and suppressing celebs.

He does and says ill-advised things on a regular basis, sure; but he also holds his hands up to them, doesn't try and pretend they're indications of anything other than a somewhat inept approach to being alive. There's no tedious "journey" at play here, no pretence that he is striving to be better – just a sense that he is muddling on as best he can. Perhaps that's the only approach you can take, once you've been nabbed cottaging in Los Angeles by a passing cop.

For these reasons, we are truly, unconditionally fond of George Michael.

In illustration of which, he once nearly reversed a car into my goddaughter and her father as they walked through the streets of Highgate in north London.

George braked at the last minute and waved an apology out of his window.

Jon texted me the full details immediately. I responded: "George Michael nearly ran you over? You're so lucky…"

He texted back: "I know!"

We both meant it.