Another Shot in the Dark Answers

1. How many Brussels sprouts are sold in UK supermarkets each year at Christmas time? 750 million

2. In what month was the famous Christmas film Miracle on 34th Street first released in cinemas? May

3. What percentage of British adults aged 25-49 say that they make a list of presents that they ask for at Christmas? 26%

4. True or false: if you ate your Christmas tree, you would become seriously ill? False

5. What percentage of women say they prefer giving rather than receiving Christmas presents? 72%

6. What profession are most likely to have to work on Christmas Day? Priests

7. If Santa has a mince pie and a 200 ml glass of milk at each house (s)he visits to deliver presents, how many calories would (s)he eat on Christmas Eve? 150 billion

8. Of those cooking on Christmas Day, how long does the average Brit spend preparing Christmas dinner? 4 hours 16 minutes

9. In degrees Celsius, what is the highest temperature ever recorded at the North Pole? 13 degrees C

10. In Poland, which of the following is a common Christmas tree decoration: (a) Polish sausage (B) turnips (C) spider webs or (D) a rabbit foot? Spider webs

Too many questions

 Once upon a time, if you needed to see a doctor, you phoned up or called in at the surgery and made an appointment.  Not any more. Now you can only make an appointment on the same day.  And you have to phone at 8,00 am when the lines open.  Purportedly.  But they don’t.  They are always engaged.  And when you finally get through, all the appointments have gone.  ‘Try again tomorrow’ they say cheerfully.   After four days of this my dear husband was so enraged, I feared for his mental health.  Then someone said to try something called econsult.   

First of all you need a computer.  And you need to know how to use it so that excludes the poor and those who do not have a computer as they've lived perfectly well without one for 80+ years. 

But, no matter. Husband dies have a computer and some rudimentary knowledge.  After half an hour and much cursing I am summoned to assist.  I don’t know much either.  But between us we find the relevant pages and supply all manner of information.   They want a passport or a driving licence photo too.   Now 44% of Londoners don’t have a car and only 76% have a passport.  Excluding again.  

But husband does and after another forty minutes of photographing and uploading we are in.   And then begins the box ticking.  Completely irrelevant matters such as how much alcohol do you drink for example.  Then you asked to describe the problem.  A small lesion on his scalp.  But that won’t do.  Size, colour, texture, edges, height, and on and on.   

Then they demand a photograph of it.  He has to kneel down so that I can photograph his scalp.   The cat wonders in and gets in the photograph too.  (They didn’t ask if there was a cat in the household). Then the photo has to be cropped.   And then, having uploaded this photograph there appears a box where you asked to describe the lesion.   

I wrote that bit.  ‘Precisely as described and photographed above’. Finally, after over an hour it’s finished.  We click submit.  And then it asks How did we do? Perhaps it’s just as well that he clicked off before I wrote my furious response.   

And then, at 6.45 a doctor telephones.  ‘You need to come to the surgery tomorrow so that I can see it’.  

So, there were appointments after all.  And it did need to be seen.  

And some outsourced group of teenagers commissioned by our now privatised NHS had a load of fun wasting patients’ time and excluding great swathes of the population.   

I asked my computerless 88 yr old neighbour what she does.   Oh, she said ‘I just turn up and sit there until they get so sick of me I get seen.  

My friend E says she handwrites a letter addressed to the Dr and gives it to the receptionist.  

There must be better ways.   Like a phone call and an appointment.  

Is this worse than a disappearing electrician?  The jury’s out.  

Too much to ask?

I like order in my life. It's my balance, the other side of my chaotic, enquiring brain. So, if an electrician says he'll come between 8 and 9, I mentally prepare myself, because I know that his visit will disrupt the order of my life, even if only for a few hours: the electricity will be off, so no WiFi, no TV, no kettle, boiler or cryptic crossword on the Times app. No shopping or coffee shop, as I have to be en casa. And my house is small, so he'll be invading my space. Whereas I am generally easy about whether I get out of bed at 7:45, 8, 8:15 or whatever, now I have to be precise and make sure the alarm is going to work. Which means I wake up much earlier, in order to check the alarm does its (now unnecessary) job. Disorder. Stress.

So when the electrician I had booked for 08:30 yesterday didn't tun up, and didn't contact me except to answer my "where are you?" message 2 hours after it was sent, I was ticking. However, "mañana" he said [he's Manuel, from Barcelona]. Tomorrow. "Between 8 and 9". OK, reset alarm for Tuesday. More sleep deprivation stress. Today. 09:30. No sign of electrician. I've had enough and fire him by text. Don't mess with me.

Which leaves me looking for an alternative. We'll see how that goes.

If you're thinking I need a therapist rather than a builder, you're probably not wrong. Although both would be best; just turn up on time. Is that too much to ask?

Another Shot in the Dark

1. How many Brussels sprouts are sold in UK supermarkets each year at Christmas time?

2. In what month was the famous Christmas film Miracle on 34th Street first released in cinemas?

3. What percentage of British adults aged 25-49 say that they make a list of presents that they ask for at Christmas?

4. True or false: if you ate your Christmas tree, you would become seriously ill?

5. What percentage of women say they prefer giving rather than receiving Christmas presents?

6. What profession are most likely to have to work on Christmas Day?

7. If Santa has a mince pie and a 200 ml glass of milk at each house (s)he visits to deliver presents, how many calories would (s)he eat on Christmas Eve?

8. Of those cooking on Christmas Day, how long does the average Brit spend preparing Christmas dinner?

9. In degrees Celsius, what is the highest temperature ever recorded at the North Pole?

10. In Poland, which of the following is a common Christmas tree decoration: (a) Polish sausage (B) turnips (C) spider webs or (D) a rabbit foot?

Answers in the Comments below, please.

Answers will appear on 28 March.

Acknowledgement to @ShotintheDarkGames (FB) shotinthedarkgame.co.uk

Back to Tesco

A couple of years ago I switched from Tesco to Asda. Tesco has the advantage of being within walking distance of my house but I got fed up with their frequent moving around of the stock. I don't imagine I'm alone in wanting to know where the tea bags are or what aisle the washing up liquid is in. Don't mess me about! So I decamped to Asda, which is a five minute drive. During the first Covid lockdown, when home delivery was difficult to access, I used Lidl a lot and still do, although they have no café and a limited range of some items.

I know, this isn't my most promising post. Stay with me though.

A year or two ago I began to experience some soreness in my knees (I know, even less promising). After a couple of years I decided to get checked over by my GP, who sent me for an X-ray and subsequently to a physiotherapist. The first physio, a young man, gave me so many different exercises that I didn't know which to do, meaning I did none. He then told me he was going "back to uni" (was I fobbed off with a student?) and I saw a young woman. One of my most supportive readers told me that, in her experience, physios were generally 'posh girls', but when we're both (me and the physio, not me and the reader) wearing masks, it's hard to tell. Anyway, she gave me one exercise. Excellent, I can remember that and, more importantly, believe in it.

So I do the exercise reasonably regularly but, for normal health reasons, also try to do as much walking as possible. Which I hate, but brings me back to Tesco. Half a mile there and back. Manageable. If the weather permits I'll be doing this every morning: walk, shop, coffee (egg, bacon, etc twice a week), stagger home. My experience of walking (and the given exercises) is that my knees are sore while I'm doing it - and for 24 hours after - and then back to normal. 'Normal' meaning not getting any better but also not any worse. Maybe I'll lose a smidgen of weight though.

I'll let you know how well this goes. Bet you can't wait.

Charitable Choices

The other day, at the checkout in Tesco, I was given a small purple disc. What's this? Is it a bitcoin? One of those thingies that go in the trolley to make the pound coin spit out at you? A reward for good behaviour? I have no idea so I ask the checkout person [typically I would call her a checkout lady but I'm not sure women like being called ladies any more]. Apparently it's for voting which charity should be supported by Tesco this (next?) month. "How do I do that, friendly checkout person?" "You put the disc in the vote slot you see by the exit".

I've not had one of these before so it's either a new scheme or, more likely, you need to have spent more than a certain amount that day. I tend to shop frequently in small batches rather than the reverse. Anyway, I carried the disc around for a few days, because I kept forgetting to look for the voting machine. I am generally in a hurry to leave because supermarkets are ghastly places.

But today ... I remembered.

Here am I facing the machine. With camera for blog purposes. So: middle class kids learning ballet, kids gardening instead of being in the classroom or feeding a starving family. That's a choice? It's like choosing between Boris Johnson, Jeremy Corbyn and Mother Theresa.

But hang on a minute. What if the food charity is run by that woman from Kids Company? What if teaching the kids to grow vegetables means they will feed their families when they grow up (the kids not the vegetables)?

Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and you feed him for his life time.

(Not just men obviously. Thought I'd better say that)

What if a young ballerina/o grows up to be a star and host a Dance Aid performance which raises millions of pounds for poor kids all over the world?

It's tricky. I can't get my head round it so my mind wanders ...

Maybe we could use this system for other important votes. Like Brexit. Or the new President after the Queen dies. Boris Johnson, Nick Clegg or David Attenborough. And instead of queuing at polling booths at election time, we could all decamp to the local supermarket or corner shop and cast our vote with a purple disc. None of those party poopers asking who you voted for - they can see! No electronic voting machines, so no Russian hackers. Put a scale up the front and you wouldn't need all those polling companies. And there's only room for three choices, so no Monster Raving Loonies or idiots wearing clown costumes or funny hats. Or Farage. What's not to like?

I don't have time for the necessary research. I  cast my vote .......

Shocking and Hilarious

Can a movie, or a TV series, be shocking and hilarious at the same time? For me Yes but does that make me weird?

On that point, I'll be blogging about Squid Game in a few days.

Meanwhile I've watched a couple of feature length Netflix sports-related documentaries in a series called Untold. Last night was Untold: Crime & Penalties and tells the story of the Danbury Trashers ice hockey team. The previous episode Breaking Point I watched was about the tennis rivalry and friendship between Mardy Fish and Andy Roddick and, ultimately, Fish's anxiety and mental health problems. There's an episode about Caitlyn Jenner who, as Bruce Jenner, won Olympic gold for the decathlon, one about an 'infamous' (I'd never heard of it, so relatively infamous) NBA brawl, another about female boxer Christy Martin.

In each case the central structure features a defining moment, which we see at the beginning, an examination of why this happened and finally an assessment of the outcomes.

The Danbury Trashers came about as a result of mob boss (if he was one of the ubiquitous Dragons' Den dragons, he'd be "trash disposal mogul") Jimmy Galante, who bought his 17 year old son A.J. a UHL [United Hockey League, a minor league one level below the NHL] ice hockey franchise, making A.J. President with carte blanche to hire whomever he wanted to play in the team. What could possibly go wrong? In true Dirty Dozen style, he recruits a bunch of the best and the worst - the best players with the worst (most violent) temperaments, setting them the goal of terrifying their opponents into submission. I am not really familiar with ice hockey but it has always seemed to me a sport flirting on the edge of violence, so none of this is surprising. The central moment occurs when one of the team's players has his leg broken by an opponent - and you can easily imagine what follows.

There's a subplot with the FBI investigating, and eventually indicting, Jimmy. He is acclaimed as a hero for creating this sporting monster, with the Danbury locals fully in tune with the macho  approach of the team. The players give extended interviews and the director makes a good stab at humanising them. To the extent that there are definitely hilarious moments to go alongside the gut-wrenching barbarity of it all, yes, my central premise is proven.

Breaking Point is set around Mardy Fish's sudden withdrawal before a match against Roger Federer, using this to probe his life of intense pressure to succeed from a very young age, a breakdown, recovery and his final decision to retire as a player and subsequently, amongst other things, his being open about his well-being issues and his campaign for awareness of mental health issues for sports stars. An extended interview with Fish himself frames the documentary and, as with Crime & Penalties, there are interviews with key people - particularly Andy Roddick in this case. It's neither shocking nor hilarious but a worthwhile and sensitive examination of a familiar sporting issue. I'm looking forward to seeing the remaining three in the series.

Arsenal notes

Those of my readers who hate football probably don't know what an Arsenal is. Apart from: a repository for weapons or even a collection of those weapons. As in Woolwich Arsenal. A recent definition of an Arsenal would be along the lines of "a collection of over-paid, under-performing old actors chasing a ball". Current definitions, however, include "a well-rehearsed collection of hungry young men with a common goal". This is the Arsenal we fans have come to know in recent months.

I'm struggling here to keep the non-footy readers engaged.

I want to comment on some under-mentioned aspects of Arsenal's victory over Aston Villa yesterday. The Gunners got their goal in the first half and looked pretty comfortable, although without creating too many chances for a second, until the 70th minute. At that point Arteta decided - entirely reasonably - that his young charges were looking tired and brought on Nicolas Pepe and, ten minutes later, Eddie Nketiah. Now, you two guys, you have just one job: hold on to the ball and keep it as far away from your own goal as possible. Preferably around the opposition's corner flag. These two were completely unable, even unwilling, to do this simple thing. To the extent that, in the final minute of added time, Pepe gave away the ball, and committed a rash foul, just outside his own penalty area, giving Philippe Coutinho, an excellent free kick taker, the opportunity to get an undeserved draw for Aston Villa. Only the alert Bernd Leno in the Arsenal goal prevented this happening.

Frankly guys, that was unacceptable. And for me you have forfeited the right to come on as a sub for the rest of the season. And beyond.

I get that Arteta maybe thought a second goal was the best way to confirm the victory, but Pepe's record in 75 Premier League appearances for Arsenal is just 16 goals. So the probability of his scoring in 90 minutes would be 16/75 = 0.21. In 15 minutes that would be 0.035, i.e. almost in miracle territory. If you want to guarantee keeping your one goal lead, get one of your young summer recruits on - Sambi Lokonga or Nuno  Tavares. They will (a) put in the effort and (b) do what their manager says.

Which leads me to summer recruitment. Obviously this is heavily dependent on which - if any - European competition Arsenal qualify for but let's put that to one side. Nicolas Pepe has only one attribute to act as an able deputy for Bukayo Saka as the right sided attacker: he plays in that position. No-one is going to give Arsenal anything like the £70 million they paid for Pepe but they should move him on. And bring in a young live-wire wide player such as Olise or Eze from Crystal Palace or Trincão from Barcelona.

As for Nketiah, he's out of contract and off. As is Lacazette. There has been talk of offering Laca a one or two year deal but that ignores two key points: (1) he will want to play every game in order to maximise his (admittedly minimal) chance of being in the French squad for the World Cup (2) he doesn't score goals. Yes he works hard, is a good example as captain and links play, but that lack of goals (4 this Premier League season) could easily cost Arsenal that precious 4th place in this season's Premier League. Arsenal need to bring in two strikers. Because strikers are generally the most expensive players to buy - and pay - one should be an established goalscorer in a top European league (i.e. not France) and the other a 22/23 year old with huge promise. More in future blog posts of who they could be. Talk of Calvert-Lewin has me aghast. I just don't think he fits either category.

Finally, a midfield partner for Thomas Partey. We can't continue with Grant Xhaka. There are better midfielders around. It looks like 4-3-3 is here to stay so a creative midfielder who doesn't have a frequent flier plan for yellow cards, early to mid 20s, would fit the bill. The top two in this season's Premier League midfielders yellow card list are Ruben Neves (9) and Yves Bissouma (8). Surprisingly Xhaka has only 6! We want someone less ill-disciplined than Granit, not more. Douglas Luiz and Youri Tielemans are worth a look. Tielemans has 10 through balls this season - Odegaard has 18 (!) and Partey 9. But the player I would like to see in that position is James Ward Prowse. If Arsenal need more goals, he's your guy, I reckon.

Let me know, in the comments below, what your thoughts are.

Dog Lodge

I was having a pub lunch with my friend Tony - and his giant dog Jasper - and our meal was constantly interrupted by dog-lovers, coo-ing and ah-ing at the aforesaid Great Dane. Not at Tony, obviously. Or me; I was a non-person in the interaction. Apart from the comfort which Jassie brings him, Tony loves the camaraderie of the doggie fraternity. A couple of days ago, on a walk, I heard someone saying to someone else "I love having a dog because people come up and talk to you".

Wait! You can talk to other people, you know. Is this some kind of quasi Masonic secret society? And I don't have the password? Come to think it, when I first met Jasper I was impressed that he would respond to "Sit!" even from me, a stranger. "He'll shake your hand, you know" said Tony. Aha! The Masonic handshake. I was right.

I declined.

I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member [Groucho Marx]

Why Are We So Angry?

We seem to have been living for years in a state of anger. Looking at the USA political scene from the outside, the country appears not only divided but in a particularly bitter and angry way since the lead up to the 2016 presidential election. At home in the UK, the 2016 Brexit referendum stirred a great deal of acrimony and that state persisted perhaps longer than it should have. This is not the usual partisan politics, it's a cacophonous battleground.

We seem to be permanently angry. With Downing Street parties, Prince Andrew, a footballer kicking a cat, John Bercow, Black Lives Matter, Extinction Rebellion protests, footballers who take the knee, others who don't take the knee, statues, immigrants....... now Vladimir Putin is centre stage in our anger universe. And his oligarchical cronies who have the nerve to buy a mansion in Kensington or a football club in Chelsea. 

It's exhausting. And, I would argue, debilitating. Any psychologist would warn us, on a personal level, of the harmful effects of anger - whether momentary or permanent - and the need to deal with it. It feels obvious to me that it's the same on a national level. By which I mean that an angry country - and its citizenry -  is likely to be unhealthily divided, unproductive, displaying low self-esteem and confidence, and lacking clarity and focus. It's a recipe for stagnation at best, decline at worst.

I can't watch the TV news bulletins......yesterday's Times had its first 13 pages devoted to the war in Ukraine. I'm not for one moment denying the seriousness for that country; my issue is that the populace of Britain is being wound up to be angry. By the media, almost as an arm of the state. "People of the United Kingdom, you must be angry!". We've had it before: most recently those parties, endlessly, day after day. 

I don't want to be angry, and I don't welcome the suggestion that I should feel anger. Maybe I should build a calming playlist on Spotify. That might do it.

“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” [Mark Twain]

“Angry people are not always wise.” [Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice]

I like the Sea

I feel fortunate to live near the sea. I love the sea. Obviously not being on it; I get seasick in the bath. Or in it; certainly not in English coastal waters in winter. Or Australian shark-infested seas at any time. 

I just love the look and sound of the sea. It can sometimes be angry - aren't we all? - but mostly it's a calming solace in troubled times. As with these from Charlestown yesterday.

Cinderella

I've been missing from my blog, largely due to lack of inspiration. Feeling guilty, and alarmed at how angry the world (at least as reflected in the media) is, some puns to entertain you. Some of these may have been borrowed or, in a reflection of world events, stolen.

Why is Cinderella so bad at soccer? Because her coach is a pumpkin.

Why did the chicken get sent off in the football match? For fowl play.

What did the cat call her blog? A pawedcast.

Why is my cat so ornery? He has a bad cattitude.

When I was a kid, my teacher said, “Name two pronouns.” I said, ‘Who, me?”

I decided I wanted to write a memoir but I couldn't be bothered, so I hired a ghostwriter. I haven't seen him for ages.

Why was the cartographer grumpy? He had a bad latitude.

In the kitchen, the Italian said "I'm Hungary". The German replied "Czech the fridge".

Please get your kids/grandkids to add more ...