Tag: Reasons

7 Reasons To Wear A Sling

Last night I found myself in a sling. Not because I had done a mischief, but because I had immersed myself in a role-play situation. Reasons for this are seven-fold and may or may not appear on this site later this week. While I was sitting there being slinged-up, it occurred to me that I had been missing a trick for twenty-eight years. I had never worn a sling. And because of that I was missing out on so much.

1. Sympathy. Not for the Devil or indeed for Adam, but for all of us. If we see someone in a sling we automatically feel sorry for them. How did they do that? Are they in pain? Can I help them carry their bags off the train? Wear a sling and you will get more love than you did that morning from your so-called loved one. Admittedly you may have destroyed their eight year-old cactus by dropping a pair of wet jeans on it, but even so.

2. Innocence. If there has just been a terrible crime and there are blood soaked bodies all over the road – or a box of tea-bags has gone missing from Sainsbury’s – it’s easy to look around and identify the suspect. You might not mean to do it, but it’s automatic. “There,” you think, “that youth in the beanie holding a machete is responsible for the murders.” He might not be. He might be a nice lad out for a stroll. But in our panic stricken minds we play to stereotypes. “That man there, the one who looks like he broke his arm recently and is now in a sling, did he commit these atrocities? No, of course he didn’t. He’s in a sling.” So you stop watching him. And off he wanders with 240 Gold Standard tea-bags stuffed down his trousers. Never to be seen again.

3. Massage. The problem with massaging your own neck and shoulder is that your arm gets tired very quickly. Arms were not meant to be positioned across your body at an upwards angle. They are meant to dangle loosely by your side and whack into door frames or old women. A sling, though, will give you that much needed support. You can massage your neck, shoulder and jab your collar bone with your fingers all day if you wish. Who needs an osteopath?

4. Discrimination. I’ve been for a few job interviews in the last six months and failed to land any of the jobs.* The reason for this has just dawned on me. I am perfect. Too perfect in every possible way. As a result employers can easily turn me away without the fear of a lawsuit being filed against them for discrimination. If I were to wear a sling though, well, things would be very different. They wouldn’t dare not employ me. If they did they’d know that I’d complain. They know I would sight the fact that they discriminated against me because I was wearing a sling. It would go to court. I’d get a lot of money. They’d go into liquidation. I’d win. That is the power of the sling.

5. Bullies. We’ve all heard the story of David walking along Brixton High Street only to be faced down by the towering figure of Goliath. What did he do? That’s right, he slipped out of his sling, picked a hypodermic needle up off the floor and fired it at Goliath’s head. Down he went, all hypodermatised. A lesson for us all. If you’re being bullied (or just passing through Brixton) wear a sling. No one will touch you.

6. Adoption. A sling is particularly helpful if you are an actress wandering about in a foreign country. It is quite possible that you may see a child you quite like the look of. A child who you think would enjoy the sights and sounds of downtown Beverley Hills. A child you want to keep. All you need to do is whip your arm out of the sling and pop whichever child that takes your fancy in it. Simple as that. You then get your lawyers to sort out the payment.

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7. Cold. In true 7 Reasons style we save the most obvious reason for last. The sling is basically just a big handkerchief. Which is ideal if you’ve got a big cold. Gone are the days of destroying rainforests for a box of Kleenex. Gone are the days of having to pile snot upon snot and then wiping it all over your face. A sling will allow you to blow your nose in the comfort of dry material at least six times. Thus curing colds in half the time a normal handkerchief would. Sometimes I think 7 Reasons should run the NHS.

*This is why I haven’t started calling myself Rebecca if you’re wondering what happened there.

July 19, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Holiday In Bonnie Scotland

Today we welcome back to the 7 Reasons sofa a man who hasn’t plumped up our cushions for quite a while. He’s a man some of you will know as Dr Beat. He’s a man others will know as Percy Jennifer. He’s a man the rest of us know put the ‘best’ into Gillette. That’s right. Ladies and gentleman the waiting is finally over. Back to the sofa, please welcome, Dr Simon Best.

Simon says: It is fast approaching the most popular holidaying month of the year (here in England anyway). Yep, it’s nearly August. Currently there’s a fashion for the ‘staycation’, many people are bored of the Balearics and fed up of Faliraki. For them then, the answer is simple. Go to Scotland. Here are seven reasons you should holiday there, especially if you live in England.

1. It Is Further From France. By sheer accident of geography England is closer to France than Scotland. This is clearly a huge point in Scotland’s favour. Regular readers of 7 reasons will know that the usual occupants of the sofa are no fans of France. One prefers Belgium and the other would prefer an open sewer – however he lives close enough to France that if he fell asleep on the 7 reasons sofa after one too many biscuits and was pushed out to sea he could float there in time for tea, as could most of Kent. This is clearly a danger to be avoided. If you holiday in Scotland you will be further from France.

2. Climate. Now you might raise an eyebrow at this as Scotland is not famed for its glorious weather and high temperatures. When I visited recently I saw sun for about two hours in an entire week, but in when you go on holiday certainty is important. You also need to be efficient in your packing and not take anything you won’t need. The Scottish climate helps no end with this. You can be certain that you won’t need shorts and you will always need a coat or if you wait until September, two coats. It is also always too windy for an umbrella which is a very good thing.

3. Scenery. Scottish scenery is quite simply breathtaking. It has everything you could want in a landscape: coastline, lochs, mountains, rolling lowlands. It is home to some wonderful wildlife: deer, beavers, eagles, wolves, bagpipers, men in kilts. Even in cities beautiful countryside is close at hand – with Arthurs seat in Edinburgh, and Pollock Country Park in Glasgow.

4. Cuisine. Scotland has a reputation as the home of unhealthy food. Chips, deep fried Mars bars, deep fried pizza, deep fried haggis, etc. This, however, is unfair. Firstly they deserve points for culinary innovation. Anyone can do a Heston Blumenthal and make egg and bacon ice cream, but taking a chocolate bar and deciding to fry it coated in a substance commonly used for battering fish requires a rare mind. Secondly, Scotland is also home to some fine produce. Salmon, Loch Fyne oysters, the finest Italian ice cream I’ve tasted outside of Rome. Okay, so you may gain weight, but if you can’t indulge when on holiday then when can you.

5. Money. One of the best things about going abroad on holiday is foreign currency. Getting funny coloured banknotes with odd people on them. It’s a trip highlight in itself. Obviously it does bring with it difficulties. Trying to do conversions in your head and accidentally tipping €50 for example. If you head to Scotland though, you get all the different colours, the different people, the odd foreign symbols, but none of the mathematical problems. Scotland is genius.

6. Midges. Scotland is famed for its midges – especially the West coast where they take over in summer in their millions. They like damp, overcast days, so no wonder they like Scotland in the summer. Visit the West of Scotland in July and you can see a lifetimes worth of midges in under a minute. Midges are horrible, bloodthirsty little creatures – literally. So why am I presenting it as a positive? Well, the main way to protect yourself from getting bitten (aside from walking round inside a net) is to drink lots of whisky and eat lots of marmite. Perfect. If you ever needed an excuse to drink industrial quantities of whisky and eat vast amounts of marmite then holidaying in Scotland is it.

7. Culture. Ever since the Scottish enlightenment (yes, it really did happen and no, it didn’t involve Billy Conolly and Rab C Nesbit), Scottish culture has led the way in Britain. While England was home to the Teletubbies, Scotland gave us the infinitely superior Balamory. When England was producing the Spice Girls, Scotland produced Belle and Sebastian. Look around the world of television, cinema, comedy, music and you see lots of brilliant, talented Scots. And Frankie Boyle.

Scotland also hosts the biggest cultural event anywhere in the United Kingdom: the Edinburgh Festivals (note the plural, there are seven of them). These are a showcase for authors, filmmakers, comedians and musicians. Okay, not all of the performers in Edinburgh are Scottish, but the diversity means that no matter where you’re on holiday from there will be something that reminds you of home. And Frankie Boyle.

July 16, 2011
7 Reasons You’d Be Crazy Not To Partake In These Crazes

I don’t know if it’s that time of the century or something, but there do appear to be a lot of plonkers out there. When I was a lad I remember there being a table-tennis craze, a yo-yo craze and a Pogs craze. These days though such frivolous activity has been replaced by the need to lie flat and have someone take a photo of you. I am, of course, referring to the art (or lack of) of planking. And now I see there is a new phenomenon sweeping the world. Owling. I hardly need to explain the concept. This picture says it all.

Owling (Or as I like to call it 'pratting about')

While I find these addictions creatively unfulfilling, I can see the opportunity. That’s why I have come up with seven crazes that I anticipate will sweep the county, country, continent, world and galaxy within the next few months. All I need is for you to take one craze and spread it amongst your social circle. It would also be good if you could add the photos to our Facebook page. Right, here are the options.

1. Tarzaning. This involves the participant climbing a tree, removing their shirt and beating their chest before falling back down to earth. It should be noted that Tarzaning differs from Gorillaing in the fact that the latter is limited to those with all over body hair.

2. Frogging. This is the art of jumping over unsuspecting bystanders. The ‘froger’ should approach the ‘frogee’ from behind. Having placed their hands on the ‘frogee’s’ shoulders, the ‘froger’ should then thrust themselves up and over the ‘frogee’s’ head before running away giggling.

3. Bushing. A variation on the already established bush jumping craze, bushing differs in that it does not involve jumping. It takes a more artistic approach to positioning yourself within a bush. It’s also particularly useful if you need the toilet.

4. Stacking. This craze involves the building of a stack – using any stacking material you can find – and then sees the participant balancing on the top. The aim is to create as tall a stack as possible without it toppling over when you attempt to climb on it. It is also important to note that each stack must be made out of the same material. So, for example, you can make a stack entirely out of CD jewel cases, but you can’t make one out of CD jewel cases and DVD cases. This method is unofficially known as shafting.

5. Hatting. Particularly popular at music festivals, hatting is the art of wearing as many hats at one time as you possibly can. It should be the aim of each participant to achieve hattacular status – a level attained by someone whose combined hat height is equivalent to that of their own height. (Regretfully, midgets are excluded from hatting.).

6. Arching. This involves bending over a popular landmark. For example, the Blackpool Imitation Tower in Paris. Obviously, actually bending over the Tower of Eiffels is an impossibility which is why arching is only concerned with apparent bending. A suitable distance away from the landmark, participants bend over. With both hands and feet touching the ground the body forms an arch shape. It is then up to the photographer to capture the landmark so that it appears under your arch. (While this is a family craze it is regretful that some people use it for other means. As such please only agree to bend over for people you know.).

7. Wapping. The craziest and most potentially dangerous of the seven crazes mentioned today. Wapping involves going to Wapping. All participants are advised to change their mobile phone pin numbers before entering the area.

Enjoy the crazes!

July 15, 2011
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:

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.

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!

July 13, 2011
7 Reasons Not To Get Stuck In A Revolving Door

We’re in a revolving door. Mid-revolution. But we’re not going anywhere. We are, as the saying goes, stuck. There are eight of us in total. Myself, another man and a woman in our half and a family of five in the other. We’re all looking at each other. And I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

1. Suspicion. Everyone is looking at me. I am the prime suspect here. Just because I am very close to the glass in front of me. Everyone thinks I touched it. Everyone thinks I stopped the revolving doors. I didn’t. I promise you I didn’t. I’ve had years of practice in these things. I know how to use them. I did not touch the glass. I did not. I try and make every sinew in my face as innocent as possible. But it doesn’t work. Everyone still thinks it was me.

2. Blush. And because everyone thinks it was me and because everyone is staring at me, the colour races to my cheeks. I go a little red. Well, probably quite a lot red. Every sinew now suggests I am guilty. A bead of sweat trickles down my arm.

3. Backwards Step. I want to hold my ground. I want to prove that it is not my proximity to the glass that has made the doors stop. But we’re not going anywhere. And every split-second that passes feels like a minute. There’s also another problem. I’m in a rush here. I really need to get to the gents. Suddenly my nerve is entangled in a battle of wills with my bladder.

4. Realisation. This is pain. This is physical and mental torture. And the only outcome is that I lose. Either I move, which just gives my revolving door companions even more reason to suspect I am the culprit, or I just stand there. And wet myself.

5. Decision. It’s not a hard one.* I move. It’s only a small step, but the significance of it is staggering. If I can paraphrase Neil Armstrong here, ‘It was one small step for Jon, a giant leap for the revolving door’s inhabitants.’. To everyone else this appeared as an admission of guilt. But deep down I don’t really care. Not now. I’ve come too far. And, like I say, I really, really need to get to the gents.

6. Handbags. No sooner have I stepped back though, that I encounter another problem. A lady’s foot. Just the toes, but enough to make her exasperate. I’m not doing very well here. I turn my head and apologise. She smiles wryly though I suspect it belies a wish for vengeance. For a second I am pleased I am stuck in a revolving door. There isn’t enough room to swing a cat in here, let alone her handbag.

7. Release. After what seems like hours – but in reality is probably less than five seconds – we are finally free. I make a sharp left for the toilets. I don’t look back. I just want to forget the whole sordid affair. I make it to the urinals without further alarm. But then someone stands next to me. And out of the corner of my eye I can tell who it is. It’s the man who was holding the hand of the woman who now has a bruised toe. Has he followed me in? I lose my nerve. I can’t bring myself to go. So I pretend to go. I count to ten before heading for the sink. And then I head out, to tackle the revolving doors once more. Only I use the normal door instead. Because the revolving doors are stuck.

*Which only goes to prove even more that I wasn’t touching the glass in front.

July 11, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Garden Sheds Are Actually Pretty Cool

Welcome to another Saturday and another in our long line of world class guest posts. This week it’s Chris Johnson’s turn on the 7 Reasons sofa. A sofa that has been treated like royalty in the last two years. And deservedly so. It’s been to Paris and Sydney and Chicago and Birmingham to name a few. So which luxury destination is it off to this week? Yes, that’s right, Chris’ shed. But it’s not just any shed. It’s a cool garden shed. Obviously. What other type of shed is there? All garden sheds are cool. As Chris will now explain.

I feel pretty bad for sheds. They just sort of sit at the back of the garden with no love or attention given to their woody selves. It is therefore my aim to provide you with 7 pretty believable reasons why sheds actually are pretty cool!

1. You Can Make A Horror Film In Them. Sheds can be pretty creepy in the dark. More often than not, they’re rotting messes with all kinds of creepy crawlies in them. Take a video camera and rope in your mates. Have someone wield an axe while someone cowers in the corner amongst the lawnmower and shovel. You instantly have the perfect setup for the next blockbuster slasher film. It will be better than Saw 7 anyway.

2. You Can Make A Den In Them. Transport yourself back to your childhood. Clear out all that junk and fill it with pillows, blankets and large quantities of Haribo. Chill out with your mates amongst the soft furnishings and tell each other ghost stories as it gets dark. If you’re really daring, you could even introduce a couple of beers into the equation and see what happens!

3. You Actually Have Two Houses. Nobody ever really considers that a shed could be considered a second house. If it was painted up all pretty with a sofa and a bed, you instantly have a second home right in your back garden. It’s unfortunate that they are left in a dirty, uninhabitable state. Many people on the streets would love to live in your shed. Stop taking it for granted and turn it into something to keep your mother-in-law in!

4. You Could Have A Secret Life In Them. Playing on the idea that it’s your second home, you could have an entirely separate life in your shed. Transform into the opposite sex as you step into your second life if that floats your boat, or become an owl in the middle of the night. Your family has no idea where you are because, well, you wouldn’t be in the shed would you? That would be ludicrous! That’s what you want them to think!

5. You Can Pretend It’s A TARDIS. Why should the Doctor be the only person with a TARDIS? Tell your mates that you too are a Time Lord. Paint your shed in brilliant blue, and dazzle your friends by showing them that your shed is actually bigger on the inside. Of course, if it isn’t actually bigger on the inside, just tell them that your TARDIS is feeling slightly unwell. Of course, there is one downside this amazing plan: you could be carted off to the crazy person place. But there’s no harm in trying!

6. They Are Something Top Gear Would Blow Up. Now, I’m not suggesting you should blow your shed up. That would be a bit dangerous, and frankly I don’t want to be liable for whatever would happen to you should you take dynamite to your poor garden shed. But you have to admit, those crazy old guys on Top Gear would love to blow up a shed. For absolutely no reason at all. And Top Gear is a cool programme, right? We’ve all seen the infamous caravan explosion. What would be even better is if Top Gear turned a shed into a car. It would be like a caravan, but made of wood. Interesting,

7. They Are Cool, Because They Are Cool By Nature. Well, yes, this one is pretty obvious, I admit. Sheds are just so damn cool because it’s unlikely you’ve installed central heating in there, right? I bet sheds get pretty cold at night, just imagine how cool they are in the winter. If this reason isn’t enough to convince you that sheds are cool, then I am afraid you have wasted your time in reading this. Ah well.

July 9, 2011
7 Reasons You Should Not Try And Escape From Prison In A Suitcase

This is the second 7 Reasons post I have written today. The first, entitled ‘7 Reasons Harry Potter Was Plagiarised*’, will sadly never see the light of day. I lost my nerve when I discovered JK Rowling has a habit of suing people for defamation. It’s a shame really because I had some wonderful insights for you. Harry Potter stealing John Lennon’s glasses for example. And JK Rowling herself stealing the name of Jamiroquai’s lead vocalist. It’s also a shame because I’ve written about hiding in suitcases. And, I’ll be honest with you, it’s not very good. You can stop here if you want? Up to you.

Oh, hi. Thanks for sticking with me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though. So, yes, today’s piece is about a suitcase. You may have seen the story this week about a Mexican woman trying to smuggle her husband out of prison in a suitcase. They nearly made it too. They got as far as the main door. In laymans terms that’s about as far as Big X got in The Great Escape. It was a foolhardy attempt. Here’s why.

1. Suffocation. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you there isn’t much oxygen in a suitcase, but I asked one anyway. And this is what he said. “There isn’t much oxygen in a suitcase.” So there you have it. From a rocket scientist himself. If you get in a suitcase, you might die. And escaping from prison in a coffin is not quite the same thing.

2. Pain. Only four kinds of people can get into a suitcase. Babies. And not many babies go to prison. Dead people. And not many dead people go to prison. Contortionists. And not many contortionists stay in prison – they usually escape through the bars. And finally, idiots. Only an idiot would get into a suitcase. And a desperate idiot at that. Get into a suitcase like this guy above and you will not walk again. You will have to roll. Which means you can only go down. To get home each day you will have to wait 24 hours for the earth to spin on its axis.

3. Reliance. Once you get in a suitcase you are very much reliant on other people. Now I have never got into a suitcase, but if it’s the same as a post bag I know you can’t open them from the inside. Especially if someone has attached a padlock. As popular culture has shown, things go wrong in prison breakouts. Either your accomplice is killed or they turn out to be working for the police. Or both. If you’re going to get into a suitcase, you must, must, must do your background checks first. And even then I would advise just walking out of the gates as most in the UK seem to.

4. Left Luggage. If you do make it out of the prison, you can’t just get out of the suitcase in the car park. That would be silly. Instead, you have to wait until you reach home. Which means you’ve got to get home. Now, if your accomplice is your wife – as it was in suitcasegate – or your husband, or another family member, or a friend, this is dangerous. Except on prison visits they probably won’t have seen you for a while. You’re not a big part of their life anymore. I am sorry to say this, but they have probably started to forget about you. Which is why they may well forget they’ve got you with them. It’s only after they watch the bus drive off that they realise they’ve left you on board. Who knows where you’ll end up? Probably Wandsworth. That’s where most buses end up.

5. Expense. Perhaps, though, home is further away than a bus journey. Perhaps you need to get on a plane. Not a problem if you’re going with British Airways. A major problem however if you’re going with Ryan Air. The £1 seat may have looked bargain when you booked it, but now it’s going to cost you £2,000 in excess baggage.

6. Solo. So far we have assumed – fairly it has to be said – that you have an accomplice. But what if you don’t? What happens if you just climb in a suitcase and hope? Exactly, you’ll be a person in a suitcase. Hoping. And prison breakouts don’t come to those who get in suitcases and hope.

7. Storyline. There are many great films and many great books about escaping from prison. Some based on real events – Escape From Alcatraz, Colditz, Le Trou – and some not – The Shawshank Redemption, Cool Hand Luke. In none of these did anyone try to escape in a suitcase. Why? Because you can’t film inside a suitcase. It’ll just be dark. And it you want 90 minutes of staring at darkness you may as well just switch the TV off. Or go to Great Yarmouth. If you are going to escape from prison, dig a tunnel. Or build a rocket. At least that way there is a chance someone will turn your exploits into a major motion picture. Otherwise it’s just a waste of time isn’t it?

*It clearly wasn’t. Calm down.

July 7, 2011
7 Reasons I Have A Le Tour De France Heart Shaped Problem

I have a problem. Le Tour de France is French. I know. Shocking isn’t it? But that’s not really my biggest problem. The biggest problem is that I like Le Tour de France. A lot. I always have. Ever since Gary Imlach was born. This all means that I like something French. Bad times. Here’s why:

1. Time. This isn’t just a case of me liking France for eighty-minutes (I have been known to support them over Wales, Scotland & Ireland in the past – purely for England’s gain you understand). This is a case of liking France for three whole weeks. Three! Weeks! That’s nearly a month! It’s 5.7% of the year! That must be against the law.

2. The Countryside. I hate the way TV directors cut to aerial shots of the French countryside. The sprawling fields. The streams. The chateaux. Even the vineyards – and I’m not a wine fan – look appealing. And the sun’s always shining. The sun always shines in France. And in that minute I forget myself. And I fall in love. I fall in love with France.

3. Village. On ITV’s coverage they send Ned Boulting off up the road to a small remote village that last saw pair of shorts in 1972. In a matter of hours 180 cyclists are going to zoom through the place, so Ned enquires with the locals as to how the preparations are going. Are they excited? Do they know what a bike is? Usually they seem somewhat bewildered. Which is understandable. Given Boulting’s passing resemblance to Matt Allwright, through the haze of Gauloises one could be forgiven for thinking they are about to star in a poor man’s Rogue Traders. It never happens though. Boulting just talks about bikes. And the old man continues smoking. And I fall in love with this place. And I want to go there. Right that instant. I want to go to France.

4. Art. If I went outside with my chalks and started wrote ‘Allez Claire!’ on the hill, I would get some funny looks. I’d probably also get a visit from the Police. During Le Tour however, anyone can write anything on the roads apparently. Particularly in the mountains. I can only assume this is because the Gendarmes can’t be bothered to go all the way up Alpe D’heuz to slap a €100 fine on someone who will have long gone. The art itself is brilliant. It’s like wordle. On a road. genius. I want to be a French graffiti artist.

5. Supporters. I have seen Le Tour de France live twice. Once in 1994 when they went through Sussex – and I lived twenty minutes away – and once in 2007 when they rode around Buckingham Palace and I lived a ten minute walk away. In terms of effort, it didn’t take much on my part. The French though, they head up mountains in their caravans and then wait for days until the peloton (plus the stragglers) pass them. It’s a whole lot of effort for a few minutes of live action. And I love them for it. Because they’re stupid. I love the French public.

6. Laurent. You might be startled to hear this, but my favourite rider is the late Laurent Fignon. A Frenchman. And it has absolutely nothing to do with his ability as a rider. It’s because he wore glasses. It’s because, due to his glasses, he was nicknamed ‘The Professor’. It’s because he looked a bit like Christopher Walken. Without his glasses.* So what? Well, in the days before I wore contact lenses, I wore glasses. And let me tell you, riding your bike, in the rain, with glasses on, is terrifying. It’s also thrilling. Which is why, whenever I went out cycling in the rain, I would pretend I was Laurent Fignon.** And every year, when Le Tour is on, I am reminded of this. I am reminded of the time I loved pretending I was a Frenchman.

Laurent Fignon (Not former 7 Reasons guest writer, Dr Simon Percy Jennifer Best)

7. The Run In. The final stage of Le Tour sees those who have managed to stay on their bikes for the duration cycle towards the finish on the Champs-Elysees. The best thing about this is that it is tradition for all the riders to drink Champagne on route. Then, when they’ve knocked backed the bottles, they put their heads down prepared for one last race around downtown Paris. An eight-lap course which features a significant section of cobblestones. This is French ingenuity at its best. Not only have you pushed your body to its absolute limit with little more than bum blisters and crack rash to show for it, now you’ve been intoxicated with alcohol ahead of one of the most dangerous surfaces on which one could possibly ride. Well done France. You’re funny.

*At this time A View To A Kill was my favourite Bond film. The first half of it anyway.

**Wondering who I pretended to be when I played cricket in the garden? Listen to the all-new 7 Reasons podcast this forthcoming Russian Roulette Sunday. ***

***This may or may not happen.

July 5, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: How You Found Us Part 4

It’s been almost five months since we last took a look at the phrases you used to find our website, which means it must be time to do it again. And once they are some of the strangest, weirdest and disturbing phrases as you are likely to find anywhere on the inter-web.

1. Phrases you used to find us that we found flattering:

British

Boys are better than girls

Funny Asterix comments

2. Phrases you used to find us that we found less flattering:

Syphilis designers

Fernando is faster than you

Talked nonsense

Cheryl Cole

3. Phrases you used to find us that we’re sorry we couldn’t help with:

Bear roulette

Bikini clad women with hose pipes

Relieve air travel butt pain

4. Phrases you used to find us that we don’t know anything about and nor do we want to:

Ten reasons

Where is CCTV

jewel house guarded 24 hours

5. Phrases you used to find us that are just plain wrong:

Naked chef calendar

Sweater kittens

Noki c2-03

Why did the French not invade England

Piers Morgan hair

Moobs

6. Phrases you used to find us that there is no earthly explanation for and that we can’t help with:

Minefields on the way to Seven Sisters

Carbonated water burps

When I look at things I go cross-eyed

Yupik kiss

Martin Sheen can’t swim

7. Phrases you used to find us that there is no earthly explanation for but that we were able to help with:

Baby name bayron (It’s spelt Byron)

Should I go to Frence on holiday? (No)

July 3, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Glastonbury Rocks

Last week we had Luke Glassford on the 7 Reasons sofa suggesting Glastonbury wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. At the end of his piece you may remember that he said he was looking forward to the counter-argument. This week we have it. Stepping up to the plate and batting for the other side (you know what I mean) is Adam Robinson. And here are his seven reasons why, actually, Glastonbury rocks your socks off.

1. One Man’s Junk Is Another Man’s Junk. Don’t worry about litter or what to do with those ironically named disposable barbecues. When the festival ends, the farm opens its gates again for more partying but there is no music. They are here; armed with refuse sacks and a whole lot of enthusiasm, to clean the place up, field by field. They are like a swarm of bees. Nay, they are like vultures feasting on the dying embers of the planets greatest party. But, to their credit, they leave no trace and they depart with a smile on their face. Their reward is the right to keep anything of perceived value that they find. Oh, and don’t pre-judge what might be of value. I saw a smiley chap skipping around trying to make a kite out of an abandoned tent. I think he was trying to fly home.

2. New Appreciation. As you anticipate the headline set from ‘that band’ that they spoke about on Radio 1, you leave the Pyramid Stage with all its colourful flags and TV cameras. You have an hour to kill and your nomadic instinct brings you to the Other Stage. You know that band that your sister likes? Well, they are five minutes into their set and they seem to have a certain presence. You see, Glastonbury is a place for great live music. You may not like their album. You may even ridicule your sister. But today you learned that a band that has a great live act is, well, great live. More discoveries await. You might pass on that headline act. They’re not even that good live.

3. Play It Again. Such is the draw of Glastonbury and all the kudos that goes with it that popular artists of yesteryear tend to make a rare appearance. Sure, it wasn’t the complete original line-up of Kool and the Gang this year but the surviving members have still got it and quite frankly, that’s not even important. The fact is, the younger audience will not have had a chance to see them before (or even heard of them) and the older audience might not have imagined they’d see them again. We are privileged. They may not be making a comeback and they may not have a one-off reunion concert planned at Wembley. But this is Glastonbury. How could they possibly refuse?

4. Toilets. That’s right. They stink and you have to queue for ages for the experience. But let’s face it; everybody has a memorable Glastonbury portaloo moment or a funny story to tell. I know I’ve got a few. Some too grim to share, some so funny I just love it when people say ‘so, how were the toilets?’ I get to tell them of the time when the smartass security meatheads drove over the pressurised toilet sucky pipey thingy thus covering their precious Land Rover in human ……er… poo. They deserved it and I laughed (and sneezed) for days. Glastonbury is about memories and I’ve got plenty that wouldn’t look out of place in a ‘Jackass’ movie.

5. Keep Your Eyes Peeled, They Won’t Just Be On Stage. The artists have come to have fun too. Why should they miss out? The most eagle eyed BBC cameraman will catch a fair amount of off duty singers and other such A-listers bopping around, singing along to their favourite bands. But, if you dig a little deeper, away from all the action for just a while, you might get to experience some real treats. The Banyan Tree, for instance, is a tent not much bigger than my living room. It wasn’t unusual, however, to witness the keyboard player from Death in Vegas jamming with an unsigned band before a crowd of about 25 people the night before his own set.

6. The Glade And Other Such Spin-Offs. Glastonbury Festival wouldn’t be such a global phenomenon if it didn’t promote diversity. It’s not all about hippies. Take The Glade for instance. So popular, it now has its own festival, thanks, in no small part, to its uniqueness. Okay, so you may have strolled past the Dance Tent and realised that there’s even a place for thumping bass bins and DJ’s at Glastonbury. But The Glade wouldn’t look out of place on a Star Wars set. Is it a field? Is it a tent? No, it’s a small, illuminated forest and the DJ’s ply their trade from the safety of a tree house. As you stomp around with the other druids whilst listening to Aphex Twin, you might actually feel like you have landed on Endor except there aren’t scary little creatures making funny noises. Wait, we’re listening to Aphex Twin.

7. The People. People come to enjoy themselves but not at the expense of others. Sure, there are big crowds but there’s no pushing and shoving and if you bump into someone, the chances are they’ll turn round and apologise to you. It’s like one big Glastonbury family sharing one special experience. If your ears need a break and you want to chill out, why spend half an hour looking for your tent when you can go and visit the Stone Circle or the Healing Fields. It’s peaceful there, man.

July 2, 2011