There's an Overlap...

The World Cup starts today. At least, the qualifying stages do for Scotland and the other 'home countries' and the Scots face a hazardous trip to the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia. Searing temperatures and a hostile environment will greet George Burley's men and my natural pessimistic tendencies when it comes to all things football - forty years of following Heart of Midlothian does that to a man - means I'd happily settle for a draw this afternoon. And, hopefully, take three points from Iceland on Wednesday.

It's a sign of the times, however, that today's 'crucial game' - every game is seemingly crucial to the media - is not being shown on terrestrial television. Not even recorded highlights as the clock heads for midnight as used to be the case. This is because Setanta Sports, in their bid to rival Sky Sports world domination attempt, have exclusive rights to Scotland's away games in the qualifying stages of the World Cup. Now I can take a self-centred view here and chortle loudly as I have been a subscriber to Setanta for more than a year now and for barely more than a crisp ten pound note each month I'd say it's a pretty good deal, particularly as SPL and English Premiership games are included in the price. But I do feel some sympathy for those who haven't subscribed to the Irish satellite channel and would be eager to see how the Scots do today.

It's a far cry from Scotland's memorable qualifying campaigns of the 1970s. No satellite television coverage then and I still vividly recall watching Scotland defeat Czechoslovakia 2-1 at Hampden in 1973. STV covered that game 'live' in an age when very few games were covered live at all on television - not even the cup final. The legendary Arthur Montford was the commentator that evening and he was quite brilliant. His shouts of 'watch your back Denis' when Denis Law was about to be challenged by a Czechoslovak player were memorable. Scotland's triumph took them to the World Cup Finals in West Germany in 1974 - their first appearance at a finals in sixteen years.

Four years later, it was the BBC's Archie 'Woof' Macpherson who damn near fell out of the commentary gantry at Anfield when Kenny Dalglish scored the winner against Wales which meant Scotland qualified for the World Cup Finals in Argentina in 1978. Although given what was to happen in South America perhaps it might have been better if they hadn't bothered...Archie's emotive 'there's Buchan on the overlap' and 'there's Dalglish, oh what a goal!!' still send tingles down my spine. Although his 'a penalty if ever there was one' when Joe Jordan handled the ball in the Welsh penalty box and the referee somehow gave a penalty to Scotland was, to say the least, patriotic.

I don't know who'll be commentating for Setanta this afternoon although given they're also covering the Northern Ireland and England games (six hours of footy, wha-hey!) I hope it's not some English non-entity who won't have the passion of Messrs. Montford and Macpherson.

And, I suspect, he won't be wearing a checked jacket....

The Mice Used to Jump in the Traps...

A Nigerian religious leader with 86 wives has accepted an Islamic decree ordering him to divorce all but four of them, local authorities say. A spokesman for the emir of Bida told the BBC that Mohammadu Bello Abubakar, 84, agreed on Saturday to comply with the decree.

From the BBC News website.

I have to say I have a degree of sympathy for Mohammadu Bello. I mean, at 84, he's probably had a hard life. Now, in his twilight years, he nips out for a game of dominoes with his pals and is a wee bit late back. So he gets 'What time do you call this?' not once but 86 times.

He has 170 children. 170! I find it tough with just two and sometimes struggle to understand my daughters (like the majority of the female species I don't think I'll ever understand them)

But the worse part of this is the fact he has 172 mothers-in-law. Just think what the late, lamented Les Dawson could have done with that...

The Old Days

Congratulations to all my friends and family who were born between the 1930s and 1960s.

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us and lived in houses made of asbestos...

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese, raw egg products, loads of bacon and processed meat, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes or cervical cancer. Then after that trauma, our baby cots were covered with bright coloured lead-based paints. We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets or shoes, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.

As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags and we went round the streets on Go-carts made from old pram wheels & bits of wood. We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle. Take away food was limited to fish and chips, no pizza shops, McDonalds, KFC, or Subway. Even though all the shops closed at 6.00pm and didn't open on Sundays, somehow we didn't starve to death...We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and no one actually died from this. We could collect old drink bottles and cash them in at the corner store and buy Toffees, Gobstoppers, Bubble Gum and some bangers to blow up frogs with.

We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank soft drinks with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because......we were always outside playing. We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on. No one was able to reach us all day. And we were okay. We would spend hours building our go-carts out of old prams and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. We built tree houses and dens and played in river beds with matchbox cars. We did not have Playstations, Nintendo Wii, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 999 channels on SKY, no video/dvd films, no mobile phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms..........we had friends...

We went outside and found them. We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents. Only girls had pierced ears. We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever. You could only buy Easter Eggs and Hot Cross Buns at Easter time...

We were given catapults for our 10th birthdays, we rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them. Mum didn't have to go to work to help dad make ends meet. Our teachers used to hit us with canes and gym shoes and bully's always ruled the playground at school. The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. A burly policeman would clip you round the ear and our parents actually sided with the law...

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all. And YOU are one of them! Congratulations! You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated our lives for our own good. And while you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave their parents were.

Addiction

My name is Mike. This isn't easy for me but I feel I have a duty to my family and friends to tell them openly about my problem. It's not something I'm proud of but, while I'm not a religious person, we all have our cross to bear. Perhaps by bringing this out in the open I may find the help I so urgently require.

My 'habit' has worsened considerably since last Christmas. At that time I received an IPod Touch as a gift. Until then I didn't have a real problem. But now it threatens to spiral out of control. Ladies and gentlemen, I have to confess to - downloading cheesy music from the internet....

Pre IPod days, I used to download albums via my laptop. I felt in control this way and would download things like the fabulous Red Hot Chilli Pipers and their Bagrock classics. But the IPod means I can download music without the need for switching on a computer. And now I feel I've reached the stage where I need help.

The warning signs were there a few weeks ago when I downloaded Phil Collins' Greatest Hits. No, that's not an oxymoron. That started a trend. From Collins it was the short next step to Genesis. Talk about a Land of Confusion...

But things have worsened considerably. I read a newspaper review of the film Mamma Mia which said you'd be better off not going to see the film but spending your money instead on ABBA's Greatest Hits. Which, I'm afraid to say, I did. My problem now seems to have reached its nadir. My daughter Michaela picked me up yesterday and drove me home. She had Radio 1 on in her car so I felt I was safe enough from cheesy music. But, lo and behold, some listener who clearly has a similar problem to mine e-mailed Fearne and Reggie's Request Show and asked for The Wurzel's Combine Harvester. I tried desperately to control my feet but they were soon tapping away to the line 'I've got 20 acres and you've got 43' and I was hooked. Later that evening despite strenuous efforts to resist temptation, I reached the the IPod and downloaded The Wurzels song.

My name is Mike. Please, someone, help me escape my addiction to cheesy pop music....

Please Don't Wake Me...

It's been a particularly busy week. Staff shortages, colleagues on leave, two full days interviewing meaning a backlog of work to get done and a late night on Wednesday thanks to Heart of Midlothian FC's ultimately futile attempt to defeat lower division Airdrie United after two hours have left me quite tired. Well, at least I'll get a long lie on Saturday I thought....

Someone's car alarm very thoughtfully screamed to half of Edinburgh at 6.00am this morning. Wonderful. Unable to get back to sleep immediately, I got up and made some breakfast. I headed back to bed and began to drift into sleep when my next door neighbour thought he would make an early start on that fence he's been meaning to put up since Adam was a lad. Early start meaning 7.30am for the hammering and sawing of wood....

Stuffing cotton wool in my ears and covering my head with a pillow I almost made it to the land of nod. Until inevitably the telephone rang at 9.00am with some insufferably cheerful woman from south of the border offering me cheap car insurance. I didn't check if she was religious at all so she may not have taken kindly to being told to go forth and multiply...

I finally gave up on the Saturday morning lie-in at around 9.20 when the postman arrived with a recorded delivery item that required my signature - and he gave a very reasonable impression of Jack Regan of The Sweeney breaking someone's door down. The fact that said postie rarely ventures round these parts before 12 noon on a Saturday - or any other day for that matter - merely enhanced my suspicion that there was some kind of perverse conspiracy to keep me from enjoying Saturday morning in bed.

So I still feel absolutely shattered. I may consider heading to Hamilton this afternoon to watch Hearts faintly amusing attempts to score a goal. That may well be enough to have me - and others - snoring from the stand....

Draconian?

NEW OFFICE POLICY

Dress Code:

1) You are advised to come to work dressed according to your salary.

2) If we see you wearing Prada shoes and carrying a Gucci bag, we will assume you are doing well financially and therefore do not need a raise.

3) If you dress poorly, you need to learn to manage your money better, so that you may buy nicer clothes, and therefore you do not need a raise.

4) If you dress just right, you are right where you need to be and therefore you do not need a raise.

Sick Days:

We will no longer accept a doctor's statement as proof of sickness. If you are able to go to the doctor, you are able to come to work.

Personal Days:

Each employee will receive 104 personal days a year. They are called Saturdays & Sundays.

Bereavement Leave:

This is no excuse for missing work. There is nothing you can do for dead friends, relatives or co-workers. Every effort should be made to have non-employees attend to the funeral arrangements in your place. In rare cases where employee involvement is necessary, the funeral should be scheduled in the late afternoon. We will be glad to allow you to work through your lunch hour and subsequently leave one hour early.

Bathroom Breaks:

Entirely too much time is being spent in the toilet. There is now a strict three-minute time limit in the stalls. At the end of three minutes, an alarm will sound, the toilet paper roll will retract, the stall door will open, and a picture will be taken. After your second offence, your picture will be posted on the company bulletin board under the 'Chronic Offenders'category. Anyone caught smiling in the picture will be sectioned under the company's mental health policy.

Lunch Break:

Skinny people get 30 minutes for lunch, as they need to eat more, so that they can look healthy. Normal size people get 15 minutes for lunch to get a balanced meal to maintain their average figure.

Thank you for your loyalty to our company. We are here to provide a positive employment experience. Therefore, all questions, comments, concerns, complaints, frustrations, irritations, aggravations, insinuations, allegations, accusations, contemplations, consternation and input should be directed elsewhere.

From the Management

Damn, it's hell in there!

Thanks to June in Seattle

Jamie Oliver Speaks Sense

In an interview with Paris Match magazine, Jamie Oliver suggested people in the UK cared more about getting drunk than they did about eating well. "The people I'm talking about have enormous televisions - a lot bigger than my own - the latest in mobile phones, cars and they go and get drunk in pubs at the weekend. Their poverty shows in the way they feed themselves."

From the BBC News website

Usually when Jamie Oliver comes on the television either as 'celebrity' - I use the term loosely - chef or advertising some supermarket or other, I immediately reach for the 'off' button on the remote control. The Essex boy is one of many people in the media who irritate the hell out of me and I don't normally give a Jonathan Ross what he says. But in the article in the link to this rant, Oliver does speak some sense.

80% of British people don't sit round a table for dinner. When I was a child back in the late 1960s/early 1970s, one of my jobs when it was meal time was to set the table. Now I wonder how many people actually have a table. How many people sit with a takeaway in a foil carton on their lap slouched in front of a plasma screen watching endless rubbish on satellite television? And then head to the pub to get 'pie-eyed'?

It's somewhat ironic given the ever increasing number of cookery programmes on television that the art of cooking a healthy, nutritious, well balanced mean appears to be dying.

Perhaps those who appreciate good food in this country have had their chips...