Category: Top Posts

7 Reasons A Cardboard Tube Is The Essential Accessory

It’s nearly time for the members of the 7 Reasons team to celebrate their birthdays again. Jon reaches the grand old age of 28 tomorrow, while Marc will fall just shy of his half-century on the 18th. As a result there have been a lot of cardboard tubes lying around the 7 Reasons sofa this week. No doubt they were once wound in birthday related wrapping paper. While the forthcoming presents certainly entertain the mind, it is the sight of the cardboard tubes that have excited us thus far. Well, excited Jon anyway. You see, there is so much that a cardboard tube can be used for. Let’s have a look.

1. Sport. If the sport features a bat, you can play it with a cardboard tube. With the amount of cricket related posts on this site, these seemed like an opportune moment to feature another sport. So this is how you would face down Roger Clemens with a cardboard tube.

2. Music. Immediate thoughts of turning a cardboard tube into an instrument will surely give you a vision of a didgeridoo. Fair enough. But a cardboard tube is so much more. It’s also a flute.

3. Wooden Leg. Sadly, accidents will happen. Which is why you need to be ready for any eventuality. What you can’t see in the above photo is that the dog from across the road was gnawing at my right leg. So bad was it that I lost it from the knee down. Luckily I had my cardboard tube with me. It formed an immediate replacement. It’s a not a pre-requisite to look camp, it’s just very hard not to.

4. Pointer. When you want to get you message across, sometimes holding a pointing device will help. Here I show how you would use a cardboard tube to point at a shed. I don’t think there is any doubt that I mean business.

5. On Guard. Unlike scissors, the cardboard tube also works for left-handers. Although I am right-handed, I am comfortable using this sword with my left-hand.

6. Invaders. If the French were to invade the UK – which obviously is a laughable proposition – a cardboard tube would act as a very viable telescope. If would almost certainly give the invading army flashbacks to the sight of Nelson.

7. Fitness. Joining the local gym is expensive. And joining the gym 300 miles away even more so. As a result keeping fit at home is the ultimate alternative. As is aptly displayed here, weightlifting with a cardboard tube is both easy and fun. Again you will look camp, but that seems a small price to pay given the guns you will eventually develop.*

*Yes. I had reattached my leg.

June 9, 2011
7 Reasons That The UK Should Ban Carlsberg

1. Retaliation. Relations between the UK and Denmark have long been difficult.   From the eighth to the eleventh centuries they invaded us; in the nineteenth century we confiscated their navy, and in the twenty-first century they sent Nicklas Bendtner to lumber around our football fields and sulk like a moon-faced twelve year old girl. A giant moon-faced twelve year old girl. Now, however, they’ve gone too far. They’ve banned that quintessentially British spreadable yeast extract, Marmite from their country. The time to act is now and we need to ban something in return. We can’t ban bacon, because half of the 7 Reasons team will cry and we can’t ban Lego for exactly the same reason. The only thing left is Carlsberg.

2. Strength. The standard Carlsberg is an okay and quite drinkable lager (for a mass-manufactured one). Sadly, however, we don’t get that in the UK. We get an insipid watery thing brewed specially for us. It’s horrible and pointless. If you wanted to get drunk, you’d have to consume so much of it that your bladder would swell to the size of a small hatchback before you felt the teeniest bit light-headed. And that’s the moment that your small hatchback would probably be involved in an accident. With a boat.

3. Taste. The flavour of the UK Carlsberg lager is…well…in there somewhere. You can definitely tell that you’re drinking something that was once in the same country as some malt and some hops. Briefly. But going on an epic search to find the flavour in the beverage that you’re drinking is frustrating and pointless. And we already have a drink like it in the UK, it’s called water. It’s cheaper (unless you’re a family with a meter) and you don’t have to go out and buy it, it’s already there in your own home; in the taps. And it might already have been drunk by a celebrity like Elton John or Ryan Giggs, so it carries a greater celebrity cachet.

4. It Comes In A Green Tin. And I don’t like green tins. I just don’t. Never have, never will. I’m perfectly within my rights to dislike green tins and it’s not at all irrational. After all, we live in a country where it’s considered perfectly normal behaviour to dislike otherwise perfectly good people because of what vehicle they choose to commute in/on, what football team they support and the brand of shoe they choose to wear. So my hatred of green tins is far more rational than the cultural norm. Let’s get rid of the little green tins.

5. Because It’s Bad For You. Marmite was banned from Denmark because it contains additives: It’s unnaturally potent. But are the parks and playgrounds and municipal seating areas of Copenhagen littered with – often apparently lifeless – ruddy-faced and dishevelled men clutching half full* jars of Marmite in their limp, grimy hands? No. Those men are over in the UK, clutching cans of Carlsberg Special Brew**.    Because that too is unnaturally potent and unlike Marmite, which is good for you, it seems to be quite detrimental to the health.

6. Because They Keep The Good Stuff To Themselves. For Carlsberg make an amazing beer: a strong, rich, malty lager-beer with brilliant sharp hoppy notes. It’s called Elephant – named after one of the gates to their Copenhagen brewery – and can I get hold of it in the UK? Can I buggery. It would be easier to get hold of an actual elephant, and possibly more fun too. I could keep it in the garden and train it to stand on my next-door-neighbour’s car. If we banned Carlsberg, my frustrating and usually fruitless search for Elephant would come to an end.

7. Because Of The Adverts. Carlsberg’s advertising is brilliant. It’s high-budget, has consistently great production values and is usually very, very memorable.   But if we have to suffer every last epically dull and unoriginal bore mindlessly parroting, “Carlsberg don’t do *****(those asterisks are to suggest blankness, we’re not subject to a superinjunction)…but if they did….”, every time they see something they’re enthused by, because they believe it passes for original wit, that’s too high a price to pay for it. Let’s ban Carlsberg: We’d get revenge, lose crap beer, drink more water, rid ourselves of green tins, have healthier tramps and I’d be able to ride an elephant to the pub, where I wouldn’t be tempted to punch a dullard. You know it makes sense. Sort of.

*Or half empty, you decide.

**As manufactured by Chaka Khan.

May 25, 2011
7 Reasons To Let A Bull Loose In The City

Those of you who watch the news may well have seen that a bull ran amok in the Brazilian town of Sao Jose do Rio Preto last Friday. Eventually it got stuck in a clothes shop and was recaptured by a man with a bit of rope. While on this occasion the bull caused damage and forced a shop worker to hide in a toilet, a bull loose in the city isn’t always a bad thing. In fact it could be very effective. Here’s why:

1. Slow People. It staggers me the amount of people who walk around at a snails pace. Are these people so out of touch that they don’t know there is a massive Facebook campaign encouraging slow moving people to be punched in the back of the head? Obviously, no one has done this as it would be seen as GBH. Letting a bull loose in the city though is a highly legitimate method of making these people get a shift on.

2. Cheap Demolition. There are always areas of cities that could do with a lick of paint. And there are areas of cities – or, in the case of Bradford, whole cities – that should just be knocked down so something vaguely attractive can be built instead. Bringing in a demolition team is expensive. Bringing in a bull is cheap. And, given the fact that it won’t stop for tea every five minutes, a damn sight quicker.

3. China. Tired of idioms that may or may not be factually accurate? I know I am. I am particularly tired of the idiom, ‘he’s like a bull in a china shop’. I have never seen a bull in a china shop. Are we absolutely sure he is going to cause carnage as opposed, to say, purchasing a tea set? Does a bull even like china shops? Letting a bull loose in the city will confirm or destroy this idiom forever.

4. Muppets. From idioms to idiots. This might be news to you as much as it was to me yesterday when I was doing my 7 Reasons research. Each year in the Spanish city of Pamplona, as part of the San Fermin festival, bulls are let free to run through the city. And if you don’t think that’s odd, wait until I tell you that men try and out run them. Men try and out run them. Exactly, ridiculous. Take a look at this:

So, I propose that by letting a handful of bulls loose in the city the idiots among us will be routed out. These people are more dangerous than the bulls.

5. Curfew. Last week I went to a pub where I saw a man with an ankle tag. Apart from immediately knowing I was in the wrong pub, I questioned whether he should be at home in bed. It was gone 7pm after all. The response he gave me wasn’t one I can share with you, but let’s just say he didn’t leave right then and there. It would have been different if I had been a bull. Or I had a bull with me. Or, even better, I wasn’t there at all but the bull was. A bull would police curfews without any issues whatsoever. In this case the Police would turn up, question as to why this man used a bull to remove his ankle tag and send him back to prison. The place where he should have been all along. His reckless snapping of my skateboard was bang out of order.

6. Chuggers. I want them gone. The lot of them.

7. Advertising. I am a little bit surprised they haven’t thought of this already, but this is probably the greatest idea Red Bull have never had. The Red Bull Lottery. This is how it works. Forty-nine bulls are spray-painted in the Red Bull colours and then each given a number. They are dropped off on one side of the city and encouraged to rampage to a big net on the other. The first six Red Bulls that reach the net form the Red Bull Lottery numbers. The winner of the lottery will be given the other forty-three bulls. Once he/she has found them. Genius.

May 19, 2011
7 Reasons To Look In The Mirror Before Leaving The House

The first thing to say about about today’s 7 Reasons post is that I feel very guilty for what I am about to write. What you are about to read is a savage attack on one elderly gentleman’s dress sense. An elderly gentleman who no doubt fought in the War just so I could live in a world where I am free to judge him. It’s hardly the way in which to offer thanks is it? And I honestly do feel somewhat ashamed for what appears below. The thing is though, if I don’t help this gentleman out, then Trinny and Susannah will. That is something I am not prepared to let happen. So, here we go. May I present a hero dressed terribly.

The more observant of you will note that this man is wearing an MCC blazer and bow tie. That’s because he is an MCC member and was yesterday evening at Lord’s watching Middlesex battle it out with Worcestershire. I wasn’t. I was at home watching it on Sky Sports. Which is where I saw the man, blinked, wondered if what I had just seen was real, rewound the TV, watched the footage again, found the man and hit pause. I then took the above photo. I am sure you can think of your own reasons, but here are my top seven as to why he really should have looked in the mirror.

1. Trousers (Part One). He’s wearing them quite high. And when I say quite high, I mean around his chest. Unless you take style tips from Simon Cowell that’s an odd place for the waistband to sit. And when I say odd, I mean bloody ridiculous. What happens if you are caught short – as I understand is a regular occurrence when you reach a certain age? Your fly will open somewhere around your belly button. That’s just asking for trouble. And a wet patch.

2. Trousers (Part Two). If the waistband is around the chest, we can only guess at what point the legs of the trousers end. We must be talking some serious ankle swingers. And probably white socks. It’s not a good image is it?

3. Shirt. If this man had looked in the mirror before heading off to Lord’s he would have realised that the last time he used the washing machine he had an absolute nightmare. Resulting in at least one shrunken shirt.

4. Checks. Admittedly the sickly MCC egg and bacon attire makes it very had to look stylish while sitting in the pavilion, but one should know that mixing stripes with checks is a serious fashion faux pas. Unless he was trying to dazzle the Worcestershire batsmen. In which case he is a cleverer man than I have given him credit for and I feel somewhat inadequate to continue writing. But I shall.

5. Disguise. It was a dark, damp evening at Lord’s which leads me to ask whether the sun hat and sunglasses were strictly necessary. It is as if this man was trying to hide from someone. Unfortunately, on the evidence no one told the dear fellow that the best way of hiding is by blending in. Or going into the loft for a decade.

6. Abuse. As I have previously mentioned, this post is a sad indictment of society today. My only defence – and I fully accept it is both a pathetic and futile one – is that I write ravaged by guilt. There are many who would see this man and – without even a thought as to the harm it would cause – draw comparisons between him and this pair. And that is completely unacceptable. Accurate, but unacceptable.

7. Hat. Is it me or is there a suspicious lump on the top of his head? A lump concealed by a small white floppy. I’m thinking pigeons. I’m thinking this is Blowers’ new pigeon supplier. Which not only goes to prove this man doesn’t look in the mirror when he’s about to leave the home, it also means he isn’t a regular reader of 7 Reasons. And that really is the great disappointment here.

May 18, 2011
7 Reasons Following Henry Blofeld On Twitter Makes The Mind Boggle

Don’t worry if you’re not on Twitter, you don’t need to be to read this post. Do worry if you don’t like cricket though, you’re an odd one. Henry Blofeld, for those of you who don’t know, is best known as a pigeon-loving, bus-spotting cricket commentator on the most glorious of radio shows, Test Match Special. Less well known are his forays on to the social media platform, Twitter. Now I don’t wish to upset the apple cart by saying he hasn’t quite got the hang of it yet, but occasionally, just occasionally, he puts something into the public domain that clearly shouldn’t be there. Sometimes it’s an erroneous punctuation mark, other times it’s a message clearly meant for someone in particular – he’s just forgotten to include the recipients username. Every time this happens though I can’t help but wonder what he was trying to do or say. Nor can I help wondering what conversation he is in the midst of. To my mind it usually involves pigeons. Being curious I have gone through his Twitter feed and found the last seven tweets that make little sense. After much analysis, I have discovered something that is rather alarming. Prepare yourself for a shock.

The Twitterati Know Him As @blowersh

1. “My Dear Old Thing. Many thanks for sending me news from the ship! Let’s hope we succeed in packing them in!” – 29 Mar 2011. Good golly gosh! Blowers is smuggling pigeons into Britain! He has a man – who he has unsurprisingly dubbed ‘My Dear Old Thing’ – and he has a ship. A ship that no doubt sits somewhere in the middle of the English Channel. And this man on the ship relays news to Blowers as and when he has packed as many pigeons into the vaults as humanly possible. No wonder Blowers doesn’t commentate as much as he used to. He’s far too busy preparing fake British pigeon documents.

2. “.X” – 10th Apr 2011. Interesting. Is this a kiss for a young lady who Blowers is embroiled in an exotic dalliance with? Or does it mean ‘X marks the spot’? Is it code for his man on the ship? Is that a full-stop or is it a dot? Google Maps indicate there is a place called Dot Cottage near Winchelsea Beach in Sussex. So this is code! It means, ‘X marks the dot’. Blowers is unloading illegal pigeons at Dot Cottage!

3. “My Dear Old Thing. I suppose it takes one to know one. Anyway, good to hear from you. Pip pip Blowers.” – 12th Apr 2011. What is one? A cricket commentator? Is this message for Aggers? No, he wouldn’t say that to Aggers. This must be a reply to another pigeon smuggler! I bet it’s Boycott. Blowers’ message contains hints of a brush off. The use of ‘anyway’ signifies that Blowers doesn’t have time for this. He’s got things to do. My only conclusion is that Boycott is also smuggling pigeons and therefore they are fighting for business.

4. “#” – 22nd Apr 2011. A hashtag. But without the tag. So really it’s just a hash. Oh crikey! Someone’s made a terrible hash of things haven’t they? The man on the ship! It must be him. Has he been captured by a ghastly pigeon immigration official at Dot Cottage?!

5. “Yes please! What a terrific idea! Where do you suggest?” – 4th May 2011. Yes! It looks like I was right. Blowers’ man on the ship is now imprisoned. And even worse Dot Cottage is now a no go area. But it looks like someone else has approached Blowers with an offer. An offer Blowers really likes. We can only presume it’s an offer in a similar business and a new arrival port is being sought.

6. “My Dear Old Thing. Just arrived back in London. See you at 1.30 and look so much to meeting you. Pip pip Henry.” – 7th May 2011. Where’s Blowers been? Has he been to the new Dot Cottage or has he been to the printers to get the fake pigeon passports? And who is he meeting at 1.30pm? Is it his new pigeon supplier? The other option really isn’t worth thinking about. The idea of Blowers being caught in a honey trap by the pesky RSPCP (the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Pigeons) fills one with absolute fright. Oh, Blowers, do be careful.

7. “My Dear Old Thing. How’s the new ‘phone coming along? Pip pip.” – 17th May 2011. Odd. I have absolutely no idea how this relates to pigeon smuggling. Have I got this all wrong? Is Blowers actually something worse than a pigeon smuggler? Does he work in customer service for Vodafone?

*Disclaimer: Obviously this is entirely made up. We are not suggesting for one minute that Henry Blofeld or any of his associates are involved in the smuggling of pigeons into Great Britain. Nor are we suggesting he endorses Vodafone. The only thing we know about Blowers for sure is that he is the sound of cricket, a national treasure and he’s still struggling with Twitter. And, to be honest, we wouldn’t have him any other way.

May 17, 2011
7 Reasons Manu Tuilagi Should Be Embarrassed

On Saturday afternoon, the country had two choices. They could either watch a bunch of tarts or a bunch of thugs. Being someone who lacks a passion for theatrical performance this choice didn’t apply to me. My radar featured solely the Leicester v Northampton Premiership semi-final. The FA Cup Final only appeared on nancy boy’s radars. And Ricky Hatton’s. My choice, as happens regularly with my choices, was the correct one and I was treated to a terrific sporting occasion. However, it wasn’t all savoury. During the first half there was an off the ball incident between Leicester’s Manu Tuilagi and Northampton’s Chris Ashton. For those who didn’t watch it, this is what happened. Manu Tuilagi attempts something resembling a tackle on Chris Ashton. Unfortunately, Ashton didn’t have the ball. And in rugby, tackling someone without the ball is frowned upon. So, Ashton gives Tuilagi a shove to say, “Excuse me ol’chap, I am without ball. That’s terribly unsportsmanlike conduct.” To which Tuilagi replies, “No it ******* well isn’t! This is!” Although he replaced the words with three punches. Unfortunately footage of the incident isn’t great, but it’s as good as we have for now.

At full speed it looked like a brutal attack and one Audley Harrison would be proud/incapable of. On closer inspection though, it’s pretty poor. And for that Manu should be incredibly embarrassed. Here’s why:

1. Eyes. In such circumstances the victim should really have his eyes shut as he prepares himself for the blow. The puncher, on the other hand, should be looking in the direction of his target. This is all back to front. Firstly, although it’s hard to tell, Ashton has his eyes open. And secondly, Tuilagi has his eyes shut. So what can we establish from this? Well, firstly that Ashton is a madman. He likes pain and he loves watching the impact of a fist on his face. Secondly, Tuilagi is squeamish. He’ll gladly give someone a happy slap but he doesn’t want to see blood.

2. Body Position. Now, I’ve done a bit of boxing – in a ring that was frequented by Justin Langer and Adam Gilchrist no less – so I like to think I know what I am talking about. When you punch, you’ll get more joy if you hit in front of you as opposed to the side. Obviously, there may be occasions when your target is not in front of you. If this is the case it is generally a good idea to move.

3. Oxygen. It’s always a good idea to breath when involved in a pursuit that actively encourages being alive. Tuilagi’s decision to hold his breath was not only dangerous, it also made him look a little chubby.

4. Standing. If you get a chance to see decent footage, do watch it. That’s because this footage is useless at showing what happened next. It also doesn’t fully show the impact of the other two punches. Well, actually, it doesn’t show the other two punches. And, while I have suggested these punches weren’t particularly great, they were still pretty damn forceful. The slow-mo footage shows Ashton’s head turn into a jelly for a few moments. The thing is though, after Tuilagi threw the punches, nothing happened. Ashton just stood there. And so did Tuilagi. And Tuilagi looked at Ashton standing in front of him and said, “Huh? What the hell aren’t you doing on the floor? Get down son, you’re making me look like a tit.” Which he did.

5. Officials. While Tuilagi was trying to punch Ashton into Nottingham, the touch judge was doing what all good touch judges should do. He was waving his flag around. The referee, Wayne Barnes eventually noticed the semaphore message and stopped the game. He then had a chat with his touch judge and then sent both Tuilagi and Ashton to the sin-bin. So yes, Tuilagi should be embarrassed for putting the officials in a position where they made the worst decision in the history of refereeing. Ever.

6. Ovation. Despite all I have said about the punches and their ineffectualness the home crowd seemed to love it. I felt somewhat uncomfortable as I watched the Tigers faithful give Tuilagi an ovation as he ran back on the pitch after his sin-bin. Sure, if he had flattened Ashton, give him an ovation. But don’t applaud the guy for half measures. He must have felt three inches tall after hearing that. How embarrassing to hear your own supporters cheer you for not punching properly. They must have thought that’s all he had. Which it was.

7. Handshake. So you’ve thrown everything at your opponent. He’s taken an absolute hammering. So what’s the worst that can happen now? That’s right, he comes up to you at the end of the match without a scratch on him and says, “Well played.” And all you can do is smile and remind everyone that you spend far too long shaping your sideburns.

May 16, 2011
7 Reasons Not To Have A Staring Contest With The BBC One Ident Hippo

For one reason – which is why it doesn’t qualify for this site – I had to live pause the TV last night so that Claire and I could watch The Apprentice together. I paused the TV when the Hippo ident was showing. The exact point at which I paused is shown below. Knowing that I had at least fifteen minutes before I could press play, I had a choice. Start the ironing or have a staring contest with the hippo. I chose the latter. This is my story (of why it was a stupid idea).

1. Winning. From the moment I even contemplated staring at the hippo I knew I was going to lose. The only way I could have won is if we had had a power cut. (An unlikely scenario unless I was to attack the fuse box with a cucumber). And yet, despite being fully aware of the highly probable outcome, I still entered the battle. It was pointless, it was a waste of time and I was always going to finish second. Or last. Whichever didn’t come first really. For someone who enjoys winning it was a bizarre and futile decision that did me no favours. When the inevitable did happen a little bit of my aura had been destroyed. I’m was no longer the man I once was. So if you are ever tempted, don’t do it. You’ll never be the same again.

2. Distractions. A couple of minutes into the contest my phone rang. Now, even if I don’t answer my phone, I nearly always look at the display to see who I am going to ignore. It’s a habit. While on this occasion I was strong enough to ignore it, my mind was no longer on the job in hand. It was on who might be calling me. Was it Claire saying she’d be longer than she initially thought? Was it my Mum wondering where the rest of her Mother’s Day present was? Was it Marc wanting to sell me a baby? To this very minute I am not sure if my line of vision flinched towards my phone or not. It’s impossible to say. What I do know is, it did me no favours. When you are staring at a Hippo – especially a picture of one on the TV – you have to be in the zone and you have to stay in the zone. Distractions are zone killers.

3. Fish. I gave myself the benefit of the doubt. I told myself that my line of vision had not altered and so, if I was able, I may re-enter the zone. And, after a few minutes, that is what happened. I know this is what happened because my focus began to drift. The hippo was now a blurred hippo. And then the blurred hippo wasn’t a hippo at all. It was a fish. A fish in side-profile. A scary fish in side-profile. I mean this thing was ugly. It had a pair of lips Leslie Ash would have been proud of and a scaly body that reminded me of this. I am not sure this will work for you – in fact I am not sure I want it to work for you – but if you have a spare ten minutes just stare at the hippo above. If you’re unlucky the fish should appear across the lop of the hippo’s head. The lips appear in the hippo’s right eye if that helps.

4. Guilt. Having rid myself of visions of Piers Morgan and Leslie Ash’s illegitimate child, I then experienced severe pangs of guilt. The hippo was drowning. I had done that. I had paused the hippo and made him tread water. Twelve hours on I am pretty sure he wasn’t drowning at all. I am pretty sure this was pre-recorded footage and all I had done was paused its progress. But at the time, when you’ve been staring at a hippo for approximately thirteen minutes, that type of rational thought doesn’t enter your mind. You really do feel like a hippo murderer.

5. Terror. This is when you realise that the hippo is staring back at you. And he looks angry. Probably because you have made him tread-water for fifteen minutes. He also looks a bit like a crocodile with his nostrils protruding from the water. And that’s when you start panicking. Are you actually on BBC One? Are you sure you’re not watching – and recording – Animal Planet? Do you even have the Animal Planet channel? Is there even a channel called Animal Planet? So, yes. Staring at a hippo for too long makes you go mad. Really quite mad.

6. Visions. When Claire eventually arrived beside me on the sofa and gave me an opportunity to end my ordeal, I realised it wouldn’t be over for a little while longer. All the staring at a bright screen in an otherwise dark environment left me looking through those annoying colour blotches that you are only supposed to get when your eyes are closed. As one does in such circumstances I shut my eyes to try and get rid of them. This didn’t work. Instead I was faced with a vision of the hippo. In sort of a yellow and red mosaic. A mosaic that slowly began to disperse. Which is when I decided I was through and settled back to watch The Apprentice. With the occasional appearance from a fish.

7. Tea. I can barely bring myself to write the words. It went cold.

May 12, 2011
7 Reasons The Samoans Really Haven’t Thought This Through

If you read the Weird & Wonderful section of the BBC website you may well have seen that Samoa is to set to jump forward by one day. You may also know this if you are Samoan. And live in Samoa. If you don’t, you need to read this next bit very carefully. At midnight on 28th December 2011 – Samoan time – it won’t be 28th December 2011. It will actually be midnight on 29th December 2011. The Prime Minister, Tuilaepa Sailele Malielegaoi, says the twenty-four hour leap to the west side of the international data line will be good for the economy. It will enable them to do more business with Australia and New Zealand. But have they really thought it through? Our investigations show they may want to rethink.

Samoa Wants To Move To The Left Of The Dotted Line

1. 28th December 2011. That’s a Wednesday! Wednesday is a business day. Surely logic would have said jump forward in time at a weekend. Lose a Saturday or a Sunday. Not a Wednesday!

2. Tourism. Unsurprisingly, what with it being a small island with beautiful beaches, Samoa is a popular holiday destination for people like to lie around doing nothing while getting sunburnt. As a result the tourist industry is a major part of the Samoan economy. The problem is that went people book a ten day holiday they expect ten days. They don’t expect nine days. But that’s exactly what would happen if you go to Samoa for Christmas and New Year. Which is why you won’t. No one will. At the end of this year Samoa will be completely free of tourists. The Samoan economy will shudder to a worrying halt.

3. Natives. What happens if they have a birthday on 28th December? They are either going to stay in Samoa and not have a birthday which means no money being spent on presents, cake, balloons and Pin The Tail On The Donkey kits. Or they are going to go away to celebrate which means money will be spent on presents, cake, balloons, and Pin The Tail On The Donkey kits in Sydney. Either way, Samoa’s economy loses.

4. Productivity. So, without a 28th December, Samoa will be faced with a four day week. Only they won’t because the 26th and 27th are public holidays. So they’ll have a two day week. Thanks to the foresight of Tuilaepa Sailele Malielegaoi, Samoans are going to have to cram five days work into just two. It’s not going to happen. I guarantee you now that the entire Somoan workforce will be on strike on the 29th and 30th December. So basically, from 23rd December until 3rd January, nothing is going to happen in Samoa. Hardly the sort of attitude that is going to inspire New Zealand and Australia based companies to work with them is it?

5. Pressure. At the moment Samoa is the last place to see daylight. The pressure is off them really. Everyone else has done that day and are now either chilling, sleeping or preparing for a the next day. Samoans can pretty much do what they want safe in the knowledge that no one is watching. Come 2012 though, they are going to be leading the world into every new day. They have the responsibility to get us off to a good start. If they have a bad one, so do the rest of us. That is a lot of pressure and a lot of change. Really, they should have had a trial period first. Perhaps moving Samoa to just West of Ireland. This way they’d have experienced some pressure, but not potentially economy damaging pressure.

6. The Americas. Samoa’s argument is that the majority of their business ties are with Australia and New Zealand and so by advancing by a day they get to work with them for five days instead of just three*. That’s putting an awful lot of eggs in just two baskets. There are thirty-five ~~countries~~ baskets in The Americas. Some baskets, like the basket of the USA, are so big that they contain sub-baskets. There’s a basket for New York. A basket for Chicago. A basket for Los Angeles. In other words, there is opportunity. If a Samoan finds a basket is full, well he can move on to another. This time-travelling is not only going to reduce the size of these America based baskets, but some will disappear all together.** Lots of Samoans will be looking to transfer their eggs to the baskets of New Zealand and Australia. And while these baskets are going to be slightly bigger, there are going to be a whole lot more eggs in them. And when you have too many eggs in a basket that leads to cracking. And, eventually, egg white saturation.

7. Warranties. Let’s say, hypothetically speaking, I purchased a freeview box in Apia on 29th December 2010. The warranty runs out on 28th December 2011. What happens if it breaks down on 28th December? A date that doesn’t exist. I foresee a lot of correspondence going back and forth. That’s a whole lot of stamps. And a whole lot of expense. It alarms me that Tuilaepa Sailele Malielegaoi has made the decision without even contemplating such eventualities. And let me assure you, by hook or by crook I will get my hands on a Samoan freeview box and I will be following this up. All for the love of reasoning.

*At present, when it’s Monday in New Zealand and Australia, it’s Sunday in Samoa. And when it’s Friday in Samoa, it’s Saturday in New Zealand and Australia.

**When it’s Monday in Samoa it will be Sunday in The Americas and when it’s Friday in the Americas it will be Saturday in Samoa.

May 10, 2011
7 Reasons This Is Wedding Photography At Its Finest

Next year I am getting married. And, as luck would have it, so is my fiancée. Unlike the more obvious considerations – such as deciding on the date – one of the first decisions we made was that of our photographer. You do that type of thing when the groom is really vain. We’ve decided to go with this young lady. Now, I was more than happy with this choice. Until Monday. Because on Monday I was listening to the radio and Jeremy Vine started talking about wedding photography. In particular he was talking about the wedding photographer and videographer extraordinaire that is Clayton Bennett. I don’t know Clayton and he doesn’t know me, which is a great shame. Because if I did then he would almost certainly be the man in charge of capturing the greatest day of our life. He’s done some great work in the past and has quite rightly received tons of press coverage. The below is what I consider to be his finest work.

I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s a tremendous piece of photography, but just in case you have your doubts, here are seven compelling reasons as to why:

1. Style. Believe it or not, I am not a great fan of posing for photos. I’m not very good at smiling properly and I always look slightly constipated. That’s why I love candid photography. I love the natural look. Which probably explains my dislike for Katie Price, tattoos, make-up and transsexuals. Based on this, Clayton Bennett is clearly the photographer for me. Weddings are full of people wearing clothes they wouldn’t normally wear, being nice to people you don’t like and me pretending to enjoy dancing. It’s all a bit fake. Nice, but fake. It’s brilliant therefore that Clayton provides a bit of everyday naturalism in his work. And what is more natural than a pair of calves, ankles and feet walking across grass?

2. Mystery. Whose body do these legs belong to? You get more than memories with Clayton, you get a game. Are they Aunt Mildred’s? Sally’s? Suzie’s? Stephanie’s? Simon’s?* No, in fact they don’t belong to anyone who attended your wedding. This is one of Clayton’s major attributes. Not only will he photograph your wedding, he’ll also get a photo of a randomer in there somewhere. Above and beyond the call of duty I think they call this. Fantastic.

3. Blending. Apart from when I say hello and accidentally break a tripod, I don’t want to see the photographer. Not because I don’t like her, but because the sight of her long lens might put me off my quickstep. Or my slow step. Or whatever step I decide to bring to the dance floor. I suspect it would be too much to ask if requested not to bring any step to the dance floor?** That’s why Clayton is a genius. This photo aptly demonstrates his technique at camouflaging himself. I can only assume he is dressed as a small mole here. A woman in a skirt is hardly going to walk over a photographer she can see, is she?

4. Reminder. You may think this is slightly strange, but I love the graves in the background. A lovely reminder that this life won’t last forever and to make sure you enjoy every minute of married bliss. And of course a reminder not to waste valuable time in marrying again. You’re already missing Wimbledon and the European Championships for this. That’s enough missed sport to last a lifetime.

5. Legs. So, who could be bothered to shave their legs for the day? This is when you find out who your real friends are. And which bridesmaid wants the ushers. All three of them.***

6. Shoes. Women like shoes. I know this, I live with fifty pairs. The thing about wedding photography though is that it is 99% above the knee shots. How ridiculous! One of the things women love most and yet hardly any photographers cater for it. Clayton does. And that’s why he’s a pro.

7. Different. Yes, it is. How many wedding albums have you seen with this kind of photo in it? If you’re a woman, probably none. If you’re a man, certainly none. In fact, if you are a man, you are probably wondering what a wedding album is. The truth is, you don’t need to worry about it. If you are a soon-to-be-bride though, Clayton will make your wedding album unique. No more, ‘Oh that’s nice’ and ‘Ooh, I like that’, instead you’ll hear, ‘That’s interesting’ and ‘What the fu…erm…that’s different.’ Which is great because it means they are paying attention.

*Obviously not. They’d be a spoon attached. Or a set of salad spinners.

**Yes. Apparently it would.

***Yes, I do know to which of my future wife’s bridesmaids I am referring to here.

April 20, 2011
7 Reasons That Gin is Never Wrong

It was my friend Jen’s birthday on Sunday. She was drinking gin. Via the medium of Facebook she suggested that I write 7 Reasons Why Gin is Never Wrong. I didn’t like that idea at all, but I found inspiration in it. So here are 7 Reasons That Gin is Never Wrong. Thanks Jen.

1. Gin Is Good For You. Gin contains all five of your five-a-day. Have a (large) gin and tonic, and there’s a portion of lime. Follow it with a martini, and there’s an olive. Have a few more martinis, and there’s some more olives (plus a few twists of lemon if you’re on a health drive). Then make a Pimm’s (the number 1 cup is gin-based) and lemonade and you’ve got a drink with the remainder of the fruit bowl plus a salad in it. That’s all of your five-a-day. You don’t even need to wash the salad because…

2. Gin Is Better For You Than Water. It’s true! Gin is medicinal. In eighteenth century Britain, the water contained all sort of nasties; cholera, typhus (and other bad things that I vaguely remember studying at college and don’t have time to research now. You’ll just have to take my word for it that water is bad.) and it was actually safer to drink the gin. So that’s what people did until the government rather meanly halted unlicensed production. If you consume your salad in your gin, it’ll be healthier than if you washed it. Probably.

3. Gin Is Logical. When people drink gin, it brings out their better natures and they usually do the most logical thing. Let’s look at what people do when they drink gin at home. They sometimes go online and shop (I’m sure we’ve all done it). And when they shop under gin’s good influence, they always buy the right thing. A pirate hat; a sports-car; a giant Anglepoise lamp are the sorts of things that people buy when in gin. When sober, however, people buy monumentally dull things such as ink-cartridges, socks and salad spinners. And who would – deep down, in their heart of hearts – rather have an ink-cartridge than a pirate hat? And no one has ever, in the annals of human history, drunk too much gin and purchased a salad spinner. That’s because gin makes you buy the right thing.

4. You Can Never Win An Argument With Gin. It’s a fearsome opponent. Argue with it and it will just stonewall you. Every time. You can rant, you can shout, you can be as incisive and logical as you like but you will never, ever win. Its silence will overwhelm any argument and make you look rather foolish. It will, however, clear you a nice space at the bar and prevent people from engaging you in conversation. On balance though, you shouldn’t argue with gin.

5. You Can Never Win A Fight With Gin. If arguing with it hasn’t worked, you shouldn’t consider fighting it either. If you start a fight with gin, it’ll just hurt your hand or slip from your grasp, depending on whether it’s bottled or not. And you’ll look silly. I once saw a man in a park get into a spat with a bottle of fortified wine and – despite his commendable footwork and really rather impressive growling – he came second best and ended up out cold in a flower-bed. And that was only fortified wine. Gin is twice as strong as that.

6. Gin Has Anti-Gravity Properties. Gravity is, on the whole, a good thing. It stops us hurtling backwards when we sneeze and prevents our ceilings from becoming cluttered, but it has its drawbacks: If you ever trip or stumble, beastly gravity will attempt to hurl you at the nearest horizontal surface, usually the floor (though occasionally a table and once, in my case, a canal) and it will hurt. Gin counteracts this. With the correct amount of gin within you, should gravity suddenly strike, you will feel no pain. Nor will you be concerned about any indignity arising from a brush with gravity. In a straight fight, gin beats gravity.

7. Gin Propagates The Species. When people drink gin in public, they make often passes at other people. Has anyone ever made a pass at you in a tea-house? No, probably not. Has anyone ever made a pass at you in a bar (where there is gin)? Yes, almost certainly. So, there you go. If it weren’t for gin, we’d have no children. Which, ironically, would obviate one of the main causes of drinking. But gin consumption is a necessary device for the continued existence of humankind: Now go forth and drink gin, you know it makes sense.

April 19, 2011