Tag: 7 reasons

7 Reasons Standing Outside Female Fitting Rooms In Zara Is Awkward (For Men)

We’ve all been there. Female changing rooms. Women go in them. Men stand outside them. That, at least, is the usual practice. And it is certainly what I practised on Saturday. In Zara. And when I say it is what I practised, I don’t mean I went into Zara and practised standing outside the fitting rooms. That type of behaviour is strictly frowned upon and usually ends up with you being escorted from the shop by the police. Apparently. So no, I was not practising standing outside the fitting rooms. I was standing outside the fitting rooms in Zara because my girlfriend was inside the fitting rooms in Zara. And boy, is Zara awkward.

1. Positioning. It’s very difficult to know where to stand in Zara. I am no expert – if I was this post would have been called ‘7 Reasons I Laugh At Men Who Feel Awkward Outside Fitting Rooms In Zara’ – but I imagine the optimum place to stand must be at a 45 degree angle to the fitting room entrance. This, at least, is what I am trying to perfect. By standing at a 45 degree angle you can see out of the corner of your eye when your lady steps out of her cubicle to model her potential new outfit for you. It also means that you are not going to be staring at a lot of…

2. Other Women, who keep popping out of their cubicles. I have made the mistake of looking directly at the fitting room entrance before and it’s not a pleasant sight. Quite why other women seem so determined to try and fit into dresses that are at least two sizes too small for them is way above my level of intellect. But this isn’t really the awkward bit. The awkward bit is when the other women see you looking at them with your eyebrows raised. Or your mouth wide open. Or your head shaking. Or your shoulders lifting up and down as if to suggest you may be trying to suppress a titter. Which, coincidentally, is what many of them seem to be trying to do too. Obviously, if you do catch their eyesight, then you quickly look away. Which is when you notice the…

3. Mirrors. So now, instead of looking at other people, you are staring at your reflection. Which seems a little odd so you look to the other side of the fitting rooms. Where there is another bloody mirror. What is it with Zara and mirrors? They are all over the place. And the one you are using now is also being used by a women. So now you are staring at a reflection of a woman trying on a jacket. And now she has noticed you staring at a reflection of her trying on a jacket. And so has her husband. Which is when you turn back to the other mirror. Now you have a choice. Remain fixed on a reflection of you and you alone or look directly at the fitting rooms? Remember, you can’t stare at the floor, look the other way or run because your lady could step out of her cubicle at any moment. And you must be there. Given my previous with staring directly at the fitting rooms. I go for the looking at myself in a mirror option. I’ve done that before. And it hasn’t felt awkward since my Mum caught me singing along to Elvis with a comb. Thankfully, I don’t have a comb with me on this occasion, so instead I try and work out whether my shoulders are more sculpted than before or whether it’s one of those funny mirrors. I then realise someone else is hoping to use the mirror and so I have no option but to turn back to looking directly at the fitting room. This is where you have to resort to Plan Z. The phone. As…

4. Behaviour whilst waiting for someone goes, looking at your phone is the worst kind. Looking at your phone not only screams, ‘I am waiting for someone and I feel awkward,’ it also says, ‘I am bored’. Which is not good. Especially if that is the moment when your lady needs your attention. There is a way to rectify this however. I have named it the ‘look at your invisible phone’ technique. Basically it involves you, pretending you are looking at your phone. Or, in layman’s terms, just looking downwards a bit. You can also throw in some robot dance moves if you feel inclined, but most don’t. The good thing about the invisible phone/looking downwards move is that your periphiral vision still takes in your lady’s location in the fitting room. This is all well and good until you sense there is…

5. Another Man Waiting. This really shouldn’t be a problem. But ridiculously it makes it far more awkward. Not only are you are both checking on the behaviour of the other person to see if you can pick up any good ‘waiting outside fitting room’ tips, you are now in direct competition. You are both proud of your lady and you want to show the other guy that you are the better boyfriend/husband. Unfortunately, this means telling your lady that she looks wonderful in whatever she steps out of the fitting room wearing. Even if you’re not 100% sure about it. That’s until one of you decide you need to step up and show your relationship really is based on honesty about clothes. You need to show that your lady respects your opinion and if you aren’t sure about something she won’t feel let down. Which is when she steps out of the fitting room and you immediately say, ‘I’m not sure about that sweetheart. It’s not you at all.’ And then she scowls at you and you realise it’s what she has been wearing all day. Still, it could have been worse. You could have been standing outside the fitting rooms with…

6. Other Women. And this really is awkward. You feel awkward not just because you keep thinking, ‘Am I standing in the right place? How should I be acting? What the hell is she wearing?’ but because you are never 100% sure what they are thinking. Are they thinking, ‘That’s nice. I wish my boyfriend/husband was happy waiting for me in Zara instead of hanging around in HMV’? Or, are they thinking, ‘I wish security would come and remove this pervert’? I’ll be honest, the latter makes one feel very awkward. Especially when they wander off in the direction of an important looking person. You’re just waiting for a tap on the shoulder. Which is when you realise that your lady has been in the fitting room for a long…

7. Time. What is she doing in there? Is she okay? What happens if her hair has got stuck in a zip and she is now stuck? Do I phone her up? Do I ask a member of staff to go and check? Do I wander down and find out for myself? A knot twists in your stomach. She might be stuck with a dress over her head and you’re not doing anything. You’re just standing here. Feeling awkward. And now you’re feeling awkward for feeling awkward. Why? What have men done to be punished like this? Why does Zara punish men like this? When will this torture end?

September 21, 2010
7 Reasons to Buy a Popemobile

It’s the last day of the papal visit to the United Kingdom and, somewhat to my surprise, I’ve been inspired by it. I used to believe that the bicycle was the correct vehicle for the urban environment, or that a tank would be practical, but I now realise that I’ve been a fool. The correct vehicle for the urban environment is, in fact, a popemobile. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Performance. A popemobile might outwardly appear a little too sedate for the urban environment. You might wonder how your popemobile will keep pace with modern traffic. But it will. Because the popemobile isn’t the top-heavy, lumbering vehicle that it appears to be. The popemobile that we’ve seen in the UK recently has a top speed of 160mph, and a 0-60 time of six seconds (never let it be said that we don’t do research here). Why they haven’t demonstrated this by spinning the wheels and performing doughnuts to delight the assembled crowds, I don’t know (unless they think that the smoking tyres might signify the election of a new pontiff). But the popemobile is faster than you think. And it’s also bullet-proof, which is handy if you live in Nottingham. Or near a Wetherspoons.

2. Running Costs. Now you might imagine that your popemobile will be expensive to run. And you’re right, it will be. But you can offset that cost by moonlighting as a taxi driver. You’ll make a fortune. Consider it for a moment. Imagine that you’re having a great evening out, but the time has come to return home. You might be a girl with impractical shoes, or married to a girl with impractical shoes and you’ll need to call a taxi. Or you can choose the new premium option, the popemobile taxi. Who wouldn’t pay through the nose to ride home in the popemobile? I’d be dialling MCMXIVIII to order a Vaticab like a shot.

3. View. Finding somewhere to park is one of the trickiest aspects of urban driving. Ever seen a pope struggling to find a parking space? Of course not, just look at the visibility they get in the back. You’ll be able to find a space easily. And laugh at balding people at the same time.

4. Income. The back of the popemobile is, essentially, a large glass jar. Now traditionally, in fairgrounds and confectioners, people fill large glass jars with sweets and charge customers money to guess how many are in there. And you can do that with your popemobile. You can’t just fill it with any sweet, obviously. You’ll need something (ahem) appoperiate. Werther’s Original?. You can charge people to guess how many are in there, and your vehicle will pay for itself really quickly. And you’ll meet lots of men in comfortable knitwear, which is..er…well. There must be a plus side to that somewhere.

5. Visibility. Ever lost your bland silver box of a car in the car park? Of course you have. I once spent almost an hour searching for a Volkswagen Passat I’d parked at B & Q. But with a popemobile that problem will disappear. A popemobile is visible from quite a distance. Even when there isn’t a pope in it.

6. Self-Sufficiency. We’re all looking for ways to stretch our budgets further these days, and everyone’s come over a bit Tom and Barbara from The Good Life recently. In fact, there probably hasn’t been a time since the second world war when people are growing so many of their own fruit and vegetables. In the urban environment that most of us live in though, there isn’t much space to do this. But look at the back of the popemobile. It’s glazed. You can use it as a greenhouse when you’re not cruising in it. And it’s bulletproof. So no one can off your cucumbers with an uzi. It’s an all-round win.

7. Resale Value. It’s unlikely that you’ll tire of your popemobile, but if you should, remember this. Second hand car dealers often try to attribute religious credentials to the former owners of the vehicles they’re trying to sell. “It was owned by a nun”, or “it was used by a vicar to travel around his small country parish” are oft-heard pieces of sales-patter. But imagine that you’re selling a vehicle that’s been owned by the pope? “One papal owner”? You’ll make a fortune.

September 20, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: The Trouble With 7 Reasons

Howdy! I’ll give you two guesses as to who is writing this. Wrong! Correct! Yes, it’s me, Jon. Now for those of you who read 7 Reasons on a daily basis (I.E.: Marc) you’ll know that on Wednesday of this week I wrote a rather scathing piece about the modern day Blue Peter. I think it’s horrendous. This belief is not irrational, I did actually watch it. In my piece I criticised a lot of things. The presenters, the props and the theme tune to name just three. Mainly my angst was with the presenters though. I, rather harshly in hindsight, described them as ‘idiots’. I retract that now. They are not ‘idiots’. They’re just ‘playing idiots’. And there is a big distinction. I am sure many have read some of the stuff I have written on this site (Thursday for example) and thought I am an idiot. I’m not really, but I do act like one. For entertainment purposes. My own entertainment.

The reason I bring this up, is that one of the Blue Peter presenters, Andy Akinwolere, contacted 7 Reasons about the piece. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed, baffled or frustrated by my words, but I was glad he challenged me. Not because it means 7 Reasons is being read by an ever expanding audience, but because he believed I was wrong. And that’s great. I loved his passion. I loved the fact that he was compelled to say, ‘Oi Lee! What the hell are you on about? You’re wrong. So wrong!’ Or words to that effect anyway. At least, I think he thought I was wrong. Like, I say, it was hard to tell. Either way, after I had got over the rather boyish ‘ooh look, I have annoyed a Blue Peter presenter’ phase, I began to realise what this meant.

Much of my better, and some would say funnier, posts are based around me attacking/belittling/ripping to shreds a person/song/film/book. Janet Street-Porter, Tracy Emin, Owl City and the New Radicals have all faced the wrath of Jonathan Lee. Now the automatic assumption would be that I have an intense dislike of all of those. In fact, the truth is that I don’t. I am fairly indifferent to Janet Street-Porter (unless she talks). I am fairly indifferent to Tracy Emin (unless she tries to convince me that she’s an artist). I quite like Owl City’s Fireflies (despite the lyrics making no sense at all). I am very fond of the New Radical’s Someday We’ll Know (again, despite the absurd lyrics). And that I guess is the trouble with 7 Reasons. Sometimes, unless you are me, you don’t get the irony involved in some of these pieces. Just look at the comments beneath 7 Reasons The New Radicals Should Have Done Their Research Properly. It’s fair to say I am not on their Christmas card list.

Admittedly there is a difference between the New Radicals piece and the Blue Peter piece. One I like, the other I certainly don’t. And I think that’s the point. Despite all the abuse I received about the New Radicals post, I still like it. The abuse doesn’t bother me, in fact I think it’s quite amusing. I guess that’s the sadist in me. The Blue Peter piece though, I no longer like. And when I wrote it, I did. Whether Andy Akinwolere has pricked my conscience I don’t know, though I expect he has. I feel bad, not for criticising the props (balloons instead of rulers?), but for criticising the presenters. As I said before, I am not an idiot, but I do act like one. I suspect (and hope) that the current Blue Peter presenters do exactly the same. All be it for an audience that is twenty years younger than I. Fundamentally, that is what is wrong with the Blue Peter piece. I didn’t take the act of idiocy into account. Just as those who lambasted me for the New Radicals piece didn’t take my act of idiocy into account.

The reason I have written this, is not because we didn’t have any ideas for Russian Roulette Sunday this week, but because I genuinely find it to be an interesting development. As a writer. Only time will tell, but I hope that I will now write more considered 7 Reasons posts. Dare I say it, a bit like Marc.

I can only apologise if you are now bored and were in fact hoping for another film or a picture of Marc’s friend Katey wearing a cardboard cut-out of my face. And yes, one does exist.

Incidentally, I have asked Andy if he’d like to write, ‘7 Reasons You Are Completely Wrong About Blue Peter’. And I really hope he does. Because if he doesn’t think I am wrong, then he really should move on to Newsround now.

September 19, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Muse Are Awesome

Regular readers of 7 Reasons will know that we have a hardcore group of regular guest writers. Marc and I could call them our groupies. But we don’t. We just call them Liz, Simon and Rob. And today it is the turn of Rob again. If you already read his blog, There Is Music In The Breakdown, or follow him on twitter, you will know that he has quite a penchant for Muse. Today we finally get to find out why. Robert. A. Foot, this is your moment.

1. The outfits. Completely non-existent in the frontman, Matt Bellamy. From sporting such catastrophic outfits as ill-fitting suits to his alien waterproof, you know that his outfits during gigs will be extravagant. Then you look to the drummer, Dom Howard, and you see him sporting his favourite superhero costume in a Halloween gig, and you know that these people are either insanely brilliant, or just plain insane.

2. Chris Wolstenholme. The most awesome man to have touched a bass guitar ever. Combine him with a Rickenbacker and a harmonica, and you have several buckets of spare amazing. His epic headbanging antics, his backing vocals and his sheer size, you would be hard pushed to find someone who you’d like to meet more. Except Jennifer Aniston in some cases. Oh, and he does use a bit of slap bass and smokes a pipe.

3. The Instruments. I’d say guitars, but that isn’t all. From the extensive range of custom Manson guitars, Bellamy can choose from a guitar made of an old bomber plane, one with built in lasers and the quintessential red glitter guitar. But, then we have the choice of double neck guitar, keytar and sparkly. My personal favourite: the purple guitar. Yes. Purple.

4. Matthew F****n’ Bellamy. Abnormally short vocal chords, Bellamy can sing insanely high notes, as shown in such tracks as Showbiz and Micro Cuts. He can also play the guitar quite well, even if he is spinning around at several hundred revolutions per minute, or if it’s behind his head. His hair also changes colour/style dramatically every few years.

5. Dominic Howard. A left hander, always a good start in my book, Dom Howard always stands out from the crowd. Whether he’s in fancy dress or wearing a pair of his brightly coloured jeans, he’ll catch your eye one way or another. Finishing each gig with the infamous sign off of “Cheers”, that is the official Dom Howard word. A typical conversation would go, in my mind at least, something like this:

Me: Hi Dom, how’re you doing?

DH: I’m alright, cheers, and yourself?

Me: Everything’s good, Dom. How’s the tour going?

DH: It’s going really well, cheers. We had a great night last week at <insert venue here>, and after it, I just thought, “Cheers guys”, because they were cheering awesome.

Me: So what’s up next for you guys?

DH: Cheers for asking, I’m going to be working on my cheers solo album called “Cheers”. It’s a one track, 68 minute drum solo album, with the one track being called “Cheers” cheers. There have been a few cheers….. etc.

6. Morgan Nicholls. The man behind the several hundred synthy bits in every song, Morgan keeps the band ticking over at all times. Whether it’s his cabasa (not a shaker) playing or playing three notes on the keyboard during Map Of The Problematique, the band simply could not function without him. Unless his wife was due to have a baby during Muse’s stint supporting U2 during their US 360 tour, in which case they can find one of Trent Reznor’s pals to deputise. Apart from those times, he cannot be replaced.

7. The Fans. We’re the best fans in the world. Some people are flying in from America, Australia, Scandinavia, Canada and even York to see them play in their UK stadium tour. Possessing the rare quality of bashing the band endlessly, then reacting with anger when someone else has a little rant, they have on average 300GB* of gig bootlegs on their computer hard drives at any one time, downloading approximately 4TB* of material over their lifetimes. Whatever you say to them, don’t call Muse a rip off of Radiohead to their faces. Just don’t.

*Source: completelymadeupstatistics.com

September 18, 2010
7 Reasons That You Can’t Revisit Your Childhood

It’s day five of the week in which the 7 Reasons team revisit their childhoods – and now the pope has arrived in the UK – so you can’t say that we don’t live dangerously. But, over the course of the week, it’s become clear that revisiting your childhood isn’t easy. In fact, it can’t be done. I needed to find a way to demonstrate that adulthood is impossible to free yourself from and I have chosen the medium of Top Trumps.

1. Environment.

As an adult, your environment is – usually – substantially different to that of your childhood years. I spent a huge proportion of my childhood sailing. I couldn’t do that now though. I don’t live next to the sea. There are other distractions here. And girls. And beer. And anyway, I probably wouldn’t be able to spend every waking hour sailing now because of…

2. Biology.

Biology precludes revisiting your childhood. You can’t spend all day running around the park playing tag/tig/it/whatever-the-hell-it-was-called-where-you-lived, as you won’t have as much energy as you did when you were a child. And you can’t just stop running for a bit and have a breather on the swings and slides because you’re 6’2″ and you have a beard. No, that’s me. I really need to shave (something else that I didn’t have to do as a child). Anyway, one of the reasons that you don’t have as much energy is…

3. Sleep.When you’re a child you sleep for hours and hours and hours. As a child, I must have been a dream for my parents. They could just send me to bed and then – eventually – when they realised they hadn’t seen me for a couple of days, they could just wander up to my room and find me there, still sleeping. But adults can’t sleep like that, because they have…

4. Responsibilities.

Instead of spending most of their days playing, adults have to do things that are really, really dull. You may have noticed that the picture of my ten-year-old self is really blurry. This is because our scanner just broke and I can’t scan a picture of my childhood self in. Instead, I had to find a picture of myself on the internet. And, when I’ve finished writing this, I have to fix the scanner. And make dinner. And find out where the council have taken our glass recycling bin to. And do some washing. And shave. And…I’ll stop now, this is only helpful for me. I’m sure you get the picture. You just don’t have time to revisit your childhood. And even if you did, it would be a weird alternate universe, because of…

5. Events.

Our child and adult selves are also shaped by events. To revisit your childhood successfully, you’d have to erase the key events that had shaped you as an adult. I’m sure there are some things that we’d like to forget: That time I pressed the wrong button on the remote control and accidentally saw ITV, for example. But there are other events that are important and very dear to us; events that shaped our personalities. Events that we wouldn’t ever want to forget. Events that we want to retain in our memories. Events crucial to the formation of our character. Events that…yes, okay, I can’t remember any events to use as an example. This is because of my lack of…

6. Aptitude.

Your capabilities as an adult and as a child are different. As a child, you can remember things clearly (usually when adults don’t want you to), and as an adult you can walk in a straight line and look where you’re going without inconveniencing other pavement users (hopefully). But if you revisited your childhood you’d have to lose whatever skills you’d learned in the intervening years. And that’ll happen anyway if you live long enough. And why would you want to return to childhood in the first place? When you’re a child you’re an…

7. Idiot.

I used to hate nice food and drink when I was a child. I used to eat Angel Delight. I didn’t eat Arctic Roll though: No one was going to convince me that ice cream in a raspberry sponge cylinder wasn’t the devil’s work. But I wouldn’t eat decent cheese. And cheese is amazing. This is because I was stupid and ignorant and didn’t know any better. Because I was a child. Why would anyone want to return to a state of ignorance? That’s why you can’t revisit your childhood. And also why you shouldn’t burn books.

September 17, 2010
7 Reasons Playing With A Cuddly Toy 2010 Was Not A Let Down

Hello it’s Jon again. I know you weren’t expecting me again today – I wasn’t expecting me again today – but here I am. In my third and final attempt at reliving my childhood, I have decided to go all the way back to 1983. The year of my birth. On Christmas Day 1983, I was given a bear. Humbear. (He was the official bear of the Humber Bridge. Obviously). For many years he never left my side. So, in a bid to recreate the joys I once had, I am going to spend a day in the company of a cuddly toy. Unfortunately, Humbear isn’t with me. He’s at my parent’s house. So I have had to substitute him. And into Humbear’s place comes my girlfriend’s lamb, Lamb. (This is not his official name). Lamb and I spent a whole twenty-four hours together. And it was great. Truly great.

1. Lamb Can Fly. One of the things I have always regretted, is that Humbear always landed on his head whenever he slid down the handrail. Lamb doesn’t. Lamb bounces. Off his rather rotund chest. And then he sits upright. Ready for another go.

2. Lamb Can Dance. I learnt all my dance moves from Humbear, which explains a lot. Mostly why I prefer to do all my dancing sitting down ignoring the dance floor. If I had had Lamb on Christmas Day 1983, I dare say no one would credit the moonwalk to Michael Jackson. No matter what comes on the radio, Lamb does know how to have a good old bop. I did question his moves to Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On, but I shouldn’t have done. If we all liked the same things the world would be very boring.

3. Lamb Can Play Cricket. Not matter how much I coached him, Humbear was quite a poor cricketer. He never seemed to learn and sadly had to retire from the game in circa 1989 after he was called for chucking a record 347 times in a row. Lamb though, well he’s quite a different character. Rather wonderfully, he doesn’t have much stuffing under his arms and so they actually move. A full 360 degrees at the shoulder. As a result he is quite rapid. Even if he does suffer from Harmison-itis.

4. Lamb Doesn’t Get Bored. Humbear, despite all the epic adventures he shared with me, always had a habit of looking very bored. Whether this was actually the case or whether it was just because the person whole made him stitched his mouth on upside down, I never discovered. Thankfully, Lamb comes with a positive attitude to life. He just sits there, watching me work, loving every minute of it. Whenever I look up, he is there, smiling away. It makes one very proud of the little fella.

5. Lamb Doesn’t Eat Biscuits. To this day, I am still convinced it was my Dad who stole the biscuit and implicated Humbear in the whole affair. Though, at the time, I may have believed him. Thankfully, Lamb doesn’t like biscuits. He just sits there, watching me, munching away. And he seems to enjoy the spectacle. So I have another one to entertain him.

6. Lamb Is Happy To Sleep On The Floor. I was always too scared to let Humbear sleep on the floor. I thought he may run away in the night, torn up inside by my rejection of him. As a result, he always slept in my bed. And to this day, he still does. At least he does when I’m not there. Lamb is very different. We came to an agreement. Whoever won the pillow fight, got to sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a long fight.

7. Lamb Doesn’t Miss Me. I always felt incredibly guilty about leaving Humbear alone if I had to go to school or play in the garden or hide him under the bed if a friend came round to play pirates. Thankfully, I don’t feel a shred of guilt about leaving Lamb alone when I go to play pirates with my friends. I say friends. They are more local school children. And I like to roar at them from behind bushes. Still good fun though. Anyway, Lamb is very happy not coming with me. He stays in bed with Big Bear and Strong Yoghurt. Again, not their official names.

*Many thanks to Claire for the loan (albeit unknown) of Lamb.

September 16, 2010
7 Reasons Blue Peter 2010 Let Me Down

Hello, it’s me again. I’m still reliving my youth. I am sure it won’t come as much surprise to you, but instead of Grange Hill and Byker Grove, my childhood programme of choice was Blue Peter. Yesterday, I decided to watch it for the first time in twenty years.* I wish I hadn’t. What has happened to it?

Blue Peter Presenters: Joel (muppet), Andy (made to look a muppet) & Helen (female muppet)

1. The Opening Credits. What the bloody hell has happened to the Blue Peter theme? It sounds like the 1988 version has been put through a blender, drowned in the bath, driven over by a monster truck and spent a night in Jo Brand’s bed. Something like that. It isn’t good anyway.

2. The Presenters. I grew up with Caron Keating, Mark Curry and Yvette Fielding. Yesterday, I grew old with Helen, Andy and Joel. Muppets. All three of them. I remember Caron, Mark and Yvette being informative. The only thing Helen, Andy and Joel informed me was that they were idiots and that once upon a time some git had told them they were funny**.

3. Pronunciation. Within five minutes, Helen, has already baffled me with unfathomable English. “No rords with cors,” she said. If she hadn’t been reporting about a recent trip to Venice I will no doubt have been wondering why she felt it necessary to tell us that cows do not roar. As for telling me that there are no cars in Venice due to the lack of roads, yes, thanks for that.

4. Pets. In the good old days, a holiday for the tortoise was being put in a box with a load of straw and placed on a very high shelf. These days though, apparently she goes off to India, Paris and Egypt to get away from it all. Photoshop has a lot to answer for. I suspect when the tortoise finally snuffs it, instead of having Yvette solemnly breaking the news to us, Joel will try and convince us that he has gone on a round-the-world trip. The tortoise I mean, not Joel. Though that would be preferable.

5. Practical Demonstrations. What a shame that Helen has never heard of a ruler, that way she may have been able to demonstrate how high a three metre diving board is. Instead, she decided to use a balloon on a string. Outside. Where there’s quite a lot of wind. “Imagine if it was straight up,” she says, desperately trying to get the balloon above a 45 degree angle. Yes, Helen, I could have done that without the poxy balloons. Next time, why not just show us a picture of a diving board?

6. Vogue Bambini. Helen is in Milan. Which, while good news for us, isn’t good for the children of Italy. Especially as she has just encouraged everyone to pick up a copy of Vogue Bambini to look for the supermodels of the future. This I wouldn’t be so alarmed about, if Vogue Bambini wasn’t devoted to fashion for very young children. Unfortunately, it gets worse. Helen, Andy and Joel are going to photograph children. And, under the instruction of Vogue Bambini editor, Giuliana Parabiago, they have to be funny with the children. Joel’s face lights up. I don’t think I can bear to watch. Where are you Mark Curry?!

7. Joel. Yes, I know I have already talked about the presenters, but this clown needs a reason all to himself. Apart from annoying me with his unnecessarily silly antics throughout the show, he is now interviewing an eleven year-old male model. “I always thought modeling would be well hard.” No you didn’t Joel. You thought, ‘Modeling could be difficult at times’. “Come on Andy! Bring it like your mama gave it!” I despair. I really despair.

*Alright, fifteen.

**I have decided that Andy is actually quite good. He has just been brought down to the Joel/Helen level. My advice would be to get out before it’s too late.

September 15, 2010
7 Reasons That Revisiting My Childhood Has Been Difficult

At 7 Reasons (.org) this week, we’re reliving our childhoods. Jon, my friend, colleague and collaborator, suggested it as a theme for the week and it seemed like a good idea. I can do that, I thought, and I decided to spend last Sunday engaged in childish pursuits. But it wasn’t a brilliant success. In fact, reliving my childhood has been bloody difficult. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Cycling. I cycled a lot as a child and decided to relive my boyhood by going for a ride. I straddled my bicycle and began to pedal and, after a few pedal-strokes, I found the old technique beginning to return. As I cruised along the riverside, the wind tousled my hair and the sunlight dappled through the trees and caused me to squint, and it soon began to feel as if it were only yesterday when I had last ridden a bicycle. But it wasn’t yesterday. It was the day before yesterday. So I wasn’t really revisiting my childhood at all. I was revisiting Friday. And I didn’t enjoy Friday very much the first time around. And the spectre of having to eat the mushroom omelette for dinner again was ghastly. I realised I’d have to do something else to relive my childhood. Hmmm. What else did I do a lot of as a boy?

2. Reading. I knew that reading would go well. Obviously I had to select my book carefully; I couldn’t just pick up any old book. I had to find a book that I’d read and enjoyed during my childhood. I spent many minutes scouring my shelves and then, in the twentieth century military history section, I saw it: The well-worn creased black dustcover with the red gothic lettering and the prominent swastika. A book that I’d loved when I was fourteen: William L. Shirer’s The Rise and Fall of The Third Reich. All 1245 pages of it. I settled down with a glass of ginger beer and began to read. It was all there: The spare, matter-of-fact prose style; the meticulous attention to detail; the sharp, insightful analysis. In fact, it took me back in time. Way, way back. Back to the autumn of 2009 when I had read William L. Shirer’s The Collapse of the Third Republic. But I didn’t want to relive October 2009 as I’d have to hear about Balloon Boy again. And I wasn’t trying to write 7 Reasons to Revisit 2009. I’d have to try something else. And then I had an idea. I would…

3. Play A Practical Joke. Barely a day went by during my childhood that I wasn’t tormenting my immediate family with practical japery and I decided to reprise my favourite ever practical joke. And it worked. The reaction of the tearful angry shouting woman to the joke transported me back to an earlier time. A time when, approximately a month earlier, I’d played a different practical joke on her and had substituted beer for tea in her mug. She’d shouted then too. I had to clean up the mess and get her more tea. It was slightly different with this joke – I had to mop the bathroom floor and buy a new roll of cling-film – but it wasn’t different enough to take me back to my childhood. So I put my thinking-cap on again and decided to…

4. Follow The Cat. When I was a very small boy we had an active, adventurous cat and, if I had risen before my parents, I used to let the cat in to the house and play Follow The Cat. The game is simple: Take one cat, and follow it wherever it goes. Always make sure that you’re about two feet behind it. Certain that playing Follow The Cat would help me to relive the early mornings of my childhood I went downstairs and stood behind our cat. After two hours he moved, and I followed. We walked down the hallway, through the kitchen and into the utility room. Then he exited the utility room through the cat-flap. This was a turn of events that I hadn’t anticipated: We didn’t have a cat-flap in my childhood home. It didn’t take me very long to conclude that I was too big to fit through the cat-flap and, looking down at the tiny portal, I felt very large indeed. In fact, I hadn’t felt as large as that since my ill-considered purchase of a lycra cycling jersey four months previously. I abandoned Follow The Cat and decided to do something else. Then I had the idea to top them all. It was time to unleash…

5. The Space-Hopper. I spent years bouncing around on them as a kid and a go on one would surely be the ideal way to relive my infancy. I went up into the loft to get my space-hopper and excitedly inflated it with my bicycle pump. Then, somewhat less excitedly, I deflated it and brought it down through the loft hatch. Once I had re-inflated it – though quite tired now – I decided to ride it down the hallway. I mounted the gaudy bulbous wind-sack and, with as much power as my legs could muster, propelled myself forward and upward. I achieved quite a height and, as my graceful arc turned to descent, I braced myself and prepared to bounce. And I did bounce. I bounced ninety degrees to the right. And, as I lay groaning on the hallway floor, having unexpectedly shoulder-charged the living room wall, I was reminded of an earlier, simpler time. Christmas. Christmas 2005, when my wife had brought me a space-hopper and I, having injured my shoulder bouncing in the hallway, had deflated it and put it into the loft. There was nothing for it. I’d have to try…

6. Music. I would listen to the first album I ever purchased. The Specials’ eponymous debut album. That would take me back. As I put the CD on, and the opening bars of A Message to You, Rudy began to emerge from the speakers, I was taken back to another time time. Back…to Wednesday evening when I’d heard A Message to You, Rudy on a bloody Next television advert and had become astonishingly cross about the commercial exploitation of a track that was very dear to me. In fact, just thinking about it annoyed me again and so, as I was tired and my shoulder hurt, and as my day of reliving my childhood had gone so abjectly wrong and recognising that I was, by now, in a foul mood that was unlikely to improve and would cause me to irritate others I…

7. Sent Myself To Bed Without Any Tea. And so it was that I finally discovered a way of reliving my childhood. By being quite grown-up, ironically.

September 14, 2010
7 Reasons International Cricket Captain 2010 Let Me Down

This week, one half of the 7 Reasons team will be revisiting their childhood. (The other half may or may not join in. We like living on the edge). Today we start off by looking back to the summer of 1998. As a 15 year-old, I spent much of my summer holiday playing, watching and indulging in cricket. Part of this indulging was many hours spent on International Cricket Captain. A PC game that does for cricket what Championship Manager does for football. Except that Championship Manager was good. Anyway, International Cricket Captain 2010 is out these days. It’s bound to have got better. At least that’s what I thought.

1. Run The Bat In! As a young cricketer you are told to run the bat in. Usually, this involves running the bat along the ground. Whoever designed this game obviously thinks it’s okay to run the bat in, in mid-air. And because of that, Ricky Ponting was given not out on 23, 54, 73, 75, 89, 101, 108, 11o, 118 and 122. He went on to score a match-winning 133 and the Ashes were gone. Despite Andrew Strauss’ 13* in England’s second innings. The one where we were bowled out for 46. Chasing 467.

2. Slip Positions. I don’t know about you, but I like my slips close together. If the ball goes wide of third slip, well so be it. It’s better than it flying between first and second. International Cricket Captain 2010 evidently likes a slightly more spread field. So spread in fact that I could probably drive a combine harvester between keeper and slip. If only the game had that option.

3. Aggers. I would say Jonathan Agnew is back for another stint as commentator, but I actually think it’s exactly the same utterances as he recorded 12 years ago. The only reason I hesitate in stating this as fact is because he sounds slightly more bored than I remember. I didn’t even think that was possible at the time.

4. Geoffrey Boycott’s Grandmother. If anyone has ever wondered just how good she is, I can’t help you. If anyone has ever wondered what her stance looks like, buy International Cricket Captain 2010. The batsmen – and they all have exactly the same set up – are clearly based on little old ladies.

5. Lord’s Media Centre. It looks like a hedge. Probably because it is.

6. Training. One of the things that really annoyed me about the original International Cricket Captain was that you could only train eight players at anyone time. Supposedly the rest of the squad just arsed around in the changing room playing poker and watching Trisha. I would have hoped that in the twelve years that have passed, this would have changed to accurately portray the professional era. Has it? No. I am still only allowed to coach eight players. And quite frankly, I don’t think Ian Bell listened to a word I said.

7. Attack! When a batsmen is at the crease you are supposed to be able to influence his attacking mentality. Unfortunately, some of the players seem to have a mind of their own and do whatever they bloody well like. An uninjured Flintoff deciding to block out the 19th over of a T20 against Australia for instance. I initially thought this was because I hadn’t earned his respect. That would be a nice little addition to the game and give it a sense of realism. Ten minutes after trying to work out whether this was the case, I exited the game without saving. Why did I think it would be a good idea to relive my childhood again?

September 13, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Make Sure You Renew Your Car Insurance

Another Saturday dawns and as it does a new writer appears on the 7 Reasons sofa. This week we welcome Chris Owens, who is probably just about the finest member of the Car Insurance team at MoneySupermarket.Com – the UK’s leading price comparison website. Right, that’s two sentences more than I should be writing on a Saturday, so without further deviation, I’ll hand you over to Chris.

Auto ©mxlanderos

I’m guessing most of you think you’re a reasonable enough driver – you’re pretty safe, tend to stick to the speed limit (most of the time), and have never had to make a claim in your life. But at the same time you’re sharing a road with a whole host of motoring mavericks and disaster-prone drivers that are a simply a car crash waiting to happen. Here are seven of the craziest (but true) car insurance claims ever made – and 7 Reasons you need to make sure you’re always covered:

1. Cars And Snow Aren’t A Good Combination. One cool customer thought it’d be easier and safer to take a taxi rather than risk venturing out on their own in heavy snowfall. Unfortunately, the clumsy cabbie skidded straight into the back of their parked car when he came to pick up his passenger.

2. Drivers Have Terrible Judgement. Anticipating traffic speed and giving yourself plenty of time to react are two of the first lessons you learn when you first start driving. It’s a shame that one unlucky bloke forgot these golden rules and caused a multi-car pile up because, in his own words, “I started to slow down but the traffic was more stationary than I thought”.

3. Buses Aren’t Reliable. You’ve pulled out of your driveway and set off for work first thing in the morning when you slam into the back of a bus picking up passengers. What’s your excuse, apart from you weren’t paying enough attention to the road? How about, “It’s not my fault, the bus is five minutes early” – strangely enough this motorist’s insurers didn’t see the funny side!

4. A Call Of Nature Can Cause Chaos. A driver was caught short and had to stop at the side of the road to relieve himself behind a row of bushes. When he had done his ‘business’, he returned only to find his car had gone. Just as he was telephoning the police to report the missing vehicle, he noticed some familiar looking tyre tracks heading down a hill. After running all the way down to the bottom of a grass bank, he found his car flipped on its roof and in need of some emergency repairs… someone had forgotten to put the handbrake on.

5. Life Is Full Of Tree-mendous Surprises. Many of us drive the same routes over and over again, so it’s no surprise we think we know our way home like the back of our hand. Sadly for one daydreaming driver, he reversed into the wrong house and crashed into what he charmingly described as, “a tree I don’t have”.

6. The Simple Law Of Gravity. It’s not too uncommon to see crazy pictures of cars crashing through the front window of a house, but what about when the roles are reversed? A house was being moved on a large lorry when it toppled over and fell off, straight onto the top a parked car. Only when the moving company finally owned up to its embarrassing mistake did the disbelieving insurance company actually pay up.

7. If All Else Fails, People Will Blame Absolutely Anything. And last but certainly not least, the black arts were the probable reason for an accident for one imaginative driver, who simply filled out an insurance claim form with the words: “Windscreen broken. Cause unknown. Probably voodoo.”

September 11, 2010