7 Reasons

Tag: One

  • 7 Reasons The British Obsession With Weather Is A Myth

    7 Reasons The British Obsession With Weather Is A Myth

    This evening sees a new programme come to BBC One. It’s called The Great British Weather and features Alexander Henry Fenwick Armstrong, Chris Hollins and Carol Kirkwood telling us why we are obsessed with weather. Well, let us tell you something right now. We aren’t. And that’s ‘we’ in royal sense too. We really aren’t. It’s a complete myth. Here’s why:

    7 Reasons The British Obsession With Weather Is A Myth
    1.  Greeting. It is often commented upon that talk of the weather is the first topic of conversation one enters when meeting someone else. That is certainly true here at 7 Reasons sofaquarters. When Marc and I park our posteriors on the cushions of destiny our first acknowledgement is that we arrived rather wet. Or, if it’s not Summer, rather dry. This is not because we particularly care about the weather, it’s because this is how the British greet each other. The Americans comment on how many pancakes they had that morning, the Japanese comment on how tall they are feeling and the French snog each other. It’s an ice-breaker.

    2.  Meaning. The word ‘obsession’ means, according to my sources, the domination of one’s thoughts. To dominate your thoughts I reckon the subject must be thought about at least 50% of the time. And if that failed to make sense, read the next sentence – it’s much clearer. For someone to be obsessed with the weather they need to be thinking of the weather more than twelve hours a day. And not even South East Today’s weather girl, Kaddy-Lee Preston, does that. I know this because she likes break dancing, techno music and goats. And as I am sure you’ll know, when you’ve got goats on the brain there is simply not enough time to get obsessed with weather.

    3.  Stats. In a Daily Telegraph article last October, Murray Wardrop (apparently the unthinking man’s Murray Walker) said this, ‘Our obsession with the weather runs so deep that almost 70% of British people check the weather forecast at least once a day’. No Murray dear, this is not because we are obsessed, it is because we don’t want to wear our Bermuda shorts if it’s going to be a monsoon out there. I go to the fridge at least five times a day. Does this make me obsessed with the little light that goes on and off as I open and close the door? I think not.

    4.  Observation. “Good gracious,” I exclaimed, “she’s a big girl!” Those are the very words I used the other day when watching a TV programme. I can’t remember what it was, but I remember the big girl. Now, I didn’t say these words because I am obsessed with big girls. I’m not. Nor am I obsessed with small girls if that’s what you are wondering. In fact I never have been. Except when I was small myself. It seemed acceptable then. Anyway, I seem to be veering from the point. The reason I exclaimed that there was a big girl on the TV is because I was surprised. I genuinely wasn’t expecting someone quite so vuluptuous to appear right there, right then. Which is why I felt the need to announce my observation to anyone who would listen. It is exactly the same situation as if I had looked to my left and noticed whites flakes. “Good gracious,” I would have exclaimed, “it’s snowing in July!”. The line between observation and obsession is so vast I am astounded people can blur it so readily.

    5.  Media. Remember the Big Freeze last year that killed 60,000 people? No, neither do I. Though that is what the Sunday Express sensationally suggested.

    7 Reasons The British Obsession With Weather Is A Myth

    It’s the British tabloid press that are obsessed with the weather and sadly we, the public, are tarred with the same brush. I suppose we should be thankful that the revelations of the last few weeks mean The Sunday Express are very unlikely to continue hacking Michael Fish’s phone.

    6.  Popular Culture. The film The Day After Tomorrow – which was pretty much an entire celebration of extreme weather – brought in just over £25 Million at the UK box office. In the same year Spider-Man 2 brought in nearly £1.5 Million more. Admitedly the film did feature Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head, but if you are suggesting we went to watch it just because of that I won’t believe you. Just to be on the safe side though, Shrek 2 brought is nearly £48 Million in the UK alone. And at no point is the weather mentioned. So I think that proves, in 2004 at least, Brits were more obsessed by Cameron Diaz looking like a green ugly thing than the weather.

    7.  Me. If the British obsession with the weather wasn’t a myth; if it were as true as you and I existing on this very day; if we all loved rain and shine and celebrated each as we celebrate our birthday. Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, and – which is more  – you’ll be a Man, my son! Then I wouldn’t be wasting my morning writing about the blasted thing would I?

    *The Great British Weather starts on BBC One tonight at 7.30pm. Yay!

  • 7 Reasons Not To Have A Staring Contest With The BBC One Ident Hippo

    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).

     

    7 Reasons Not To Have A Staring Contest With The BBC One Ident Hippo

     

    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.

  • 7 Reasons That Gin is Never Wrong

    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.

     

  • 7 Reasons The 2011 ODI Series Between Australia And England Was Really Rather Tiresome

    7 Reasons The 2011 ODI Series Between Australia And England Was Really Rather Tiresome

    At last! It’s over! England’s tour of Australia finally finished yesterday after being emphatically thumped by the antipodeans in the ODI series. What better way to celebrate it then than to analyse the disaster?

    Disappointed Strauss as England lose ODI series 6-1
    Straussy didn’t look very impressed when his twitter update appeared on the big screen

    1.  Predictability. I am just as guilty as you are. When the ODI series started, I thought England might have a chance. You can’t argue with history though and to be frank England didn’t even bother trying. Whoever wins the Ashes loses the ODI series. It is a well established pattern and one we should do well to remember next time. As supporters we waste a lot of energy worrying about defeat, it is much healthier to accept the inevitable before it occurs. I’ll certainly be giving it a go next time.

    2.  Injuries. It seems fairly obvious to me that the more matches there are, the greater the likelihood of picking up an injury. And I mean both mental and physical. In the past few weeks I have switched on the radio seven times to find out the score and each time I have heard a commentator saying it’s been a disappointing performance so far from England. My heart has sunk so many times I am amazed it’s not lodged somewhere around my groinal area. And there’s the physical injuries too. I stubbed my toe walking downstairs to watch the fifth ODI. That just wouldn’t have happened if the ODI series had been over three games. It’s so unnecessary.

    3.  Future Planning. It amazes me how stupid the organisers of cricket at both an International and Domestic level are. The World Cup should be the pinnacle of One-Day cricket. Surely you would want everyone from every nation fit, firing and ready for one of the major events in the sporting calender? Well, obviously not. Thanks to the organisers, we, the viewer, has less than three weeks to adjust our cricket watching body clock. Instead of programming our bodies to be awake from 3am, we now need to be awake from 8am. That’s a five hour shift! The sooner the organisers realise we are not robots, the better.

    4.  Motivation. I’ll be honest, to me it appeared as if it was lacking. Once we had watched England win the Ashes* we seemed to lack the appetite for the rest of the tour. Whether we just wanted sleep or we were bored of playing the same team, our hunger had gone. And that’s not good. Not for us or for cricket. Every single time England play we should be desperate to stay up and watch it. So unexcited was I with the spectacle yesterday, that I made up my own game. The plan was to try and get the previous night’s dishes done before England lost a wicket. I lost. Four times.

    5.  Ponting. Usually, one would be able to take some solace from the fact that, although we lost, at least Ponting didn’t score many. Instead of that, this series we have had to deal with Shane Watson – a player with very limited abilities – twatting our bowlers all over Australia. And if he failed, Mitchell Johnson would do it. Plain silliness.

    6.  Heathrow Jubilation. If the England team had flown home at the end of the Ashes I would probably have made the trip to the airport to receive the thanks from Andrew Strauss and co for my support. Because of this needless ODI series though, half the team are already back. Even though the Urn will make its way through arrivals tomorrow I don’t think I deserve the thanks of Andrews Strauss anymore. I just didn’t show the commitment to these ODIs that I should have done. So I won’t be going.

    7.  It Just Was. I’m even bored writing about it now. It just wasn’t very good was it? And quite frankly, no one cares. Which sums up the point of the series quite beautifully I think. Bring on the Ashes in 2013. And 2013/14. And 2015.

    *Get in!

  • 7 Reasons The BBC Should Find Better Interviewees

    7 Reasons The BBC Should Find Better Interviewees

    You may have read yesterday that Cadbury’s Dairy Milk has been downsized. I didn’t, I read it today thanks to a retweet by regular 7 Reasons guest writer Rachel. If you want to read it, it’s here. I advise you stay here though as I have important words to share. Basically, instead of 140g of chocolate, Cadbury’s Dairy Milk is now just 120g. That’s two squares of Dairy Milk gone. At first I was furious. But as I scrolled down the page I became bemused. The BBC had decided to get the views of the Great British public. And between you and me they didn’t do a very good job. Here’s why:

    BBC Vox Pops

    1.  Stereotyping. Imogen looks like a nice girl, but deep down she has been influenced by stereotypical viewpoints uttered all around us. I quote, “Cadbury has been taken over by an American company. You would have thought it would have got larger.” Why Imogen? Because all American people are supposedly fat? Disgraceful.

    2.  Gibberish. Again, Michael looks like a nice guy. Apart from his earring. That’s silly. But it’s not what he looks like that really bothers me. It’s what he says. I quote, “…i guess if you are into being aware about what’s happening…”. Yeah bro, I’m into being aware. In fact all my bruvs and sistas are. It’s well wicked. Boi-akka-sha. Dear me. It’s not a bloody hobby. You don’t wake up one day and think, ‘You know what, I’m going to get into being aware’. Being aware is a natural state. You either are aware or you are not.

    3.  Knowledge. If I was to ask you to interview someone for an article I was writing about film piracy, I would hope you would find someone who had an interest in films. Likewise, in this situation,  I would have expected an establishment such as the BBC to find interviewees who like chocolate. On the most part they have. But Christian clearly doesn’t. How can he not have a favourite chocolate bar? That’s madness.

    4.  Observation. Florence looks happy, but she is probably one Caramel short of a box of Celebrations. I quote, “I think they are selling a lot bigger bars now.” Yes love, that’s because you are looking at the King-Size section.

    5.  Logic. It doesn’t get better for Florence, bless her, “I always feel like the packeted chocolate, I open it up and there’s less than half in the bag.” That’s because you’ve eaten most of it in the queue for the till. And anyway, the only way there can be less than half in the bag is if you’ve eaten more than half. If it’s the first time you open the bag, how can there be less than half in there? How ever much is in the bag – no matter how big or small – it is still 100% of the contents.

    6.  Memory. Last thing Florence, you say, “I feel like I’ve been robbed. It’s so disappointing.” Judging by that it means it has happened more than once. If you feel like you’ve been robbed and your disappointed in the product, why on earth would you keep buying it? Stop it. Now. You’ll feel much better. That is the 7 Reasons promise.

    7.  Plonkership. “We can understand why the prices have had to go up like that, but we’d rather it had gone up in price and we got more chocolate, then it would be the same money for less chocolate.” How does that work then? You put the price up yet the price stays the same. You get more chocolate at the same time as getting less chocolate. Genius boys. If you could get in touch and write a guest post explaining why the egg came before the chicken that would be awesome.

  • 7 Reasons 7 Reasons Has Been An Unmitigated Success

    7 Reasons 7 Reasons Has Been An Unmitigated Success

    Exactly a year ago today, 7 Reasons was born in York and Fulham. If you weren’t there – and it’s highly likely you weren’t – you will have missed our very first post, 7 Reasons This Blog Was Created. I don’t think we have ever met the high standards that piece of literary genius set, but we have certainly given it our best shot. Except on Thursdays. That day just never really happened for us. As we have somehow made it a year I think it would be useful* to look back and see if we have stuck to the principles we outlined 365 days ago.

    7 Reasons Jonathan Lee Marc Fearns

    1.  “People like lists. This is a well known fact. Shopping lists, to-do lists, Wedding lists, the list is endless. It adds structure to people’s lives. Structure is good. It makes people feel in control. We like control.” – We have certainly controlled a part of your life. A small part maybe, but a part none the less. For three of you, 7 Reasons has become a staple part of your daily diet. You can not remember life when you didn’t know 7 Reasons Why Lemons Would Make You Sick. And more is the point, you don’t want to. And as for the rest of you, well you may read 7 Reasons on an ad hoc basis. Even so, we have still have a presence in your mind. We are still controlling you. Just not as well as we’d wish.

    2.  “Seven is one of our favourite numbers. The number seven is the only number less than fifteen which cannot be represented as the sum of the squares of three integers.  We like that (probably).” – Seven remains one of our favourite numbers. That is all that needs saying on this one. If I start talking about integers I’ll confuse my keyboard.

    3.  “It gives us something to think about on the train or the bus or while walking to the post box. Instead of thinking, ‘Isn’t that woman’s blouse so last season?’ it gives us the chance to think of seven reasons why she is wearing that blouse. This tests our imagination. We like creativity.” – It could never be argued that we don’t think about 7 Reasons on the train or the bus. Indeed, such environments have inspired some of our finest pieces. And some of our worst. But that’s the beauty of 7 Reasons. The brilliant pieces only exist because there are substandard efforts mixed in. Without these everything would appear mediocre. And we already have Switzerland for that. And as for thinking about 7 Reasons whilst walking to the post box, well we’ve done that once too. A cat followed one of us back. Fifty lemons followed the other.

    4.  “On average we waste seven minutes a day thinking, ‘what shall I do next’. That’s the equivalent of 42 hours a year. In 42 hours you could comfortably travel around the world or hold your breath for 2520 consecutive minutes. Both of these are highly dangerous and more often that not result in Deep Vein Thrombosis or death. This blog is an antidote to both. We like saving lives.” – As far as we are aware, in the last year no one has died because they tried to hold their breath for 2520 consecutive minutes. It would be too easy to say, ‘Well, it probably wouldn’t have happened anyway.’ Have a bit of humility and accept that 7 Reasons has saved lives. Except Paul the Octopus’. But he tried to hold his breath for his entire lifespan. We can’t help muppets.

    5.  “Sometimes people take things far too seriously. Life should not be about taking things seriously. It should be about frivolity and nonsense. Seriousness gives us sensible shoes and Jeremy Paxman. They are bad. It’s time to be far more light-hearted. We like joy.” – Without 7 Reasons the world would no doubt have imploded on worry by now. Yes, so a couple of bad things have happened in the last year. ‘So what?’ That’s the 7 Reasons attitude. ‘Let’s look on the bright side’. And that’s just what we did. When we didn’t vote in a coalition Government but got one anyway, it was 7 Reasons – and 7 Reasons alone – who hailed it the greatest thing that could have happened. It was 7 Reasons – and 7 Reasons alone – who finally made it acceptable to cycle in the nude. It was 7 Reasons – and 7 Reasons alone – who encouraged the invasion of France. 7 Reasons gave joy.

    6.  “Sometimes people don’t take things at all seriously. They should. Life is a serious business. Without seriousness we get Balloon Boy and Ken Dodd. They are bad. It’s time to look at things with far more thoughtfulness. We like serious.” – It’s a good job that 7 Reasons has existed in the past twelve months because without it the world would have turned into a laughing stock. It was 7 Reasons – and 7 Reasons alone – who pointed out the glaring flaws in naming Ryan Giggs as 2009 Sports Personality of the Year. It was 7 Reasons – and 7 Reasons alone – who advised against driving golf buggies up the M4. It was 7 Reasons – and 7 Reasons alone – who finally gave those who look like a horse the confidence to go out and not let it be a barrier to achieving success.** 7 Reasons gave seriousness another go.

    7.  “It’s the 21st Century and in the 21st Century you have to be able to back up what you say or do. It’s no good saying, ‘I just bought a new drill’ and then shrugging when your loved one asks why. You must have a reason. Other than, ‘because it had 25% off’. So there needs to be a database to help you answer that question. This is what we will provide. We like drills.” – Ironically, or stupidly, we have never provided you with 7 Reasons I Bought A New Drill, however, we do have the biggest database of reasons anywhere in the world.*** And we only have to read the ‘keyword analysis’ of this website to see that everyone is using this site from students, to the BBC, to pregnant women looking for a place to urinate to men who are wondering if it is acceptable to shake hands after touching their penis. No one can argue that 7 Reasons isn’t the ultimate self-help website.

    *Useful in the fact that it means I don’t have to think too much about today’s post.

    **We take no responsibility for Sarah Jessica Parker making Sex and the City 2.

    ***Logic dictates this. Who else would spend a year thinking up over 2000 reasons for random things?


  • Russian Roulette Sunday: One Year In Numbers!

    Russian Roulette Sunday: One Year In Numbers!

    Wednesday 27th October 2010 marks the first birthday of 7 Reasons. In the past year we have written approximately 2,000 reasons. Which, thinking about it, is 1,993 more than we should have done. We have also had countless guest writers and hundreds upon hundreds of comments. Some good, mostly anti-Jon. All in all, it’s been pretty good. Hopefully year two will be even better. Maybe a book? Maybe a panel show? Maybe we’ll finally appear in Esquire? Who knows. But that’s the future. Today, I want to concentrate on what we’ve achieved.

    Russian Roulette Sunday: One Year In Numbers

    Right, now that’s done, we can move on. Oh, but before we do, can we just say thank you to everyone who has read 7 Reasons over the last year. And give an even bigger thank you to those who have commented on and/or shared 7 Reasons posts. And then there needs to be an even bigger thank you to all those who have written for us. Saturdays wouldn’t be the same without you. Now let’s hug. Okay, that’s long enough. Someone’s lemon is pressing into my thigh.