THE LETTER J

In the early hours, I sat bolt upright in bed, sweating profusely and troubled by the letter J. At first I thought I'd perhaps contracted malaria and was hallucinating because of raging fever, but then realised my hot water bottle had worked it's way up to the side of my head which accounts for my weird delirium over the letter J. Perhaps malaria is a little difficult to contract in the middle of February especially when you live just outside Blackpool. Anyway, after considered thought, I came to the conclusion that 'J' is a really crap letter of the alphabet.

Here's the evidence against the letter J....

No British football team starts with a J. The only decent club starting with a J is Juventus and they're a little on the corrupt side. As a Scrabble player, I hate getting a J. Although it's a high scorer, I always end up getting 10 points with J-E-T. I'd love to get a smart-arsed 7 letter word on a triple word score that included the letter J, but however hard I try, it always ends up with JET or JOT. I much prefer Z or Q. It was the last letter to join the modern alphabet joining the Latin version from the Germanic language. So we have the Germans to thank for Kraftwerk, hairy armpits, lederhosen and the letter J. Rubbish words start with the letter J.... jockstrap, judder, joggers-nipple, jalopy, jealousy, Jemima, jodphurs, jizz and Jordan. Incidentally, did you know the word Jordan means chamberpot? Could there be anything more incongruous than Katie Price and the contents of a chamberpot? I doubt it.

And the compelling argument against the letter J? J.J..J..J....Jedward.

OOH LA LA....

Here comes some shameless plugging for a little French takeaway close by to where I live. Monsieurs, run by Guy and Anita Jenkinson is Poulton-le-Fylde's best kept secret. The food is freshly prepared using excellent quality local produce.

Typical main courses include beef bourgignon, Moroccan lamb tagine, pork dijon, coq au vin, Basque chicken and a plat du jour. The chicken livers cooked in sherry are well recommended as are the home-made desserts which are to die for.

Don't believe me? Have a look at UKTV's Good Food channel review...

Guy and Anita Jenkinson have run this unique takeaway for 13 years, providing piping hot, homecooked, French-orientated dishes for the lucky denizens of Poulton-le- Fylde. Produce is as local as possible, and you can expect dishes like beef bourguignon, navarin of lamb, pork dijon, chicken à la crème, as well as spaghetti bolgnaise and lasagne. New this year is sloe and apple duck and there's a daily plat du jour. A little gem. Open evenings only, closed Monday.

Tonight I called in and as a Valentine's day special, was treated to a huge profiterole with the best choux pastry, the yummiest filling of whipped fresh vanilla pod infused custard and cream, hot chocolate sauce, toasted almonds and fresh strawberries. Damn sexy food which was so good, I had to go and lie in a darkened room as I was struggling to breathe following the food-fest.

Check out Monsieurs at 12d Blackpool Old Road, Poulton-le-Fylde, Lancs

Tel: 01253 896400

SPORTING WEEKEND

It's been an action-packed weekend of sport starting with the opening of the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. The death of the young Georgian luge competitor during practice sessions threatened to overshadow the opening ceremony. I managed to watch a some of the ceremony and it was quite spectacular. I'm looking forward to seeing the downhill skiing and Team GB trying to beat our 4 medal haul in 1924. We've a good chance with Shelley Rudman in the skeleton and the women's bobsleigh team. The men's curling and dare I mention in the void left by Torvill & Dean, the Scottish siblings Sinead and John Kerr may have an outside chance in the figure skating.

No premiership football this weekend due to the FA Cup matches. Stoke City managed an impressive draw against Man City who looked a little shaky without the presence of Carlos Tevez. Birmingham, Portsmouth and Chelsea cruise through. Results still due in for mighty Spurs v Bolton, Villa v Palace and Fulham v Notts County. I'm hoping for a Spurs v Man City final which brings back some great memories of Ricardo Villa scoring that magnificent goal for Spurs in the replay. Other matches this weekend saw Blackpool get a draw against their arch rivals Preston and Newcastle go back to the top of the Championship.

In the Six Nations, England are favourites to beat Italy in Rome this afternoon. Whilst typing this and with an eye on the rugby, all I can hear is Brian Moore's commentary getting more and more exasperated with the England performance. We can't lose against the Italians and allow France a foot in the door can we? Aside from England's initial woes, the Welsh snatched a last minute win over Scotland and the Irish were outclassed by France. Good rugby on show and a fantastic Six Nations tournament.

Tuesday night sees Manchester United take on AC Milan in the Champions League and the debate hots up as to whether David Beckham will play and whether he'll celebrate if he scores. Old Trafford is a superb arena for the greatest players to ply their craft. I hope Beckham plays and I hope he gets a great welcome. Not sure I'd like him to score though....

SIMON BARLOW - CUTE OR CREEPY?

Corrie's Simon Barlow (played by Alexander Bain) has breathed new life into the dreary Barlow family. He's certainly a better actor than most of them - yes Deidre, that means you. The late Maggie Jones who played Blanche was possibly the only exception. I miss her put downs and acerbic wit.

The latest storyline sees Simon's father Peter Barlow struggling with lapsing back into alcoholism. Corrie got it badly wrong with the Joe McIntyre disappearing man on lake the plotline, but the writers and actor playing Peter Barlow deserve much credit for tackling the issue of alcoholism so realistically. The drama is building as Simon is at the centre of a tug-of-war between his grandparents and Peter's drunken attempts to get him back. Scenes shot at Blackpool are imminent...

Whatever chaos is going on around him, Simon just manages to steal every scene he's in by managing just to look up with those cute cat from Shrek 2 big brown eyes. He also seems to have a natural acting ability way beyond his years. Lines are delivered in helium-pitched, Rochdalesque perfection.

However, to coin Ann Widdecombe's phrase, 'there's something of the night about him'. It's a feeling that I can't quite put my finger on it, but he just reminds me of an old man who's very, very short. A miniature Charlie Chaplin or a cross between Benjamin Button, Stewie from Family Guy and Damian from the Omen. Call it a hunch, but I've noticed that birds don't fly over Granada Studios when Simon does his outside scenes. Chesney's Schmeichal runs round in circles baying at the moon. And another thing...I'm going to ask for a second post mortem on Simon's pet rabbit Liane (shown looking a tad apprehensive in the photo above). Liane allegedly died in the flat fire from smoke inhalation, but I'm sure Simon was seen stuffing a box of Swan Vestas and an ether-soaked hankerchief in his school trouser pockets....

SHOWERS IN FEBRUARY

Phase 3 of the shower saga gets underway at fishfingerbutty towers this morning.

This follows yet another water leak from a hole in the tile grouting. Fortunately, it wasn't so serious and there was no soaking carpets and water like the christmas tsunami.

Anyway, trusty Mike is here and cracking on with fitting new plasterboards, tiles and shower tap. I don't always see eye to eye with the building trade. Call me skeptical, but previous experience of half-a-job Johnny who drinks your tea and scoffs all your biscuits, does a half-finished job then drives off into the sunset in their white van with a healthy wad of my cash in their back pocket never to be heard of again, does do your head in somewhat.

Mike is one of those rare breed of builders who takes his shoes off when entering your house. He goes and sits in his van when he wants a cigarette. He's pleasant and does everything you ask of him with a smile on his face. He cleans up after himself and his work is fantastic. Best of all, he puts the toilet seat down after use. This man is too good to be true.

As mentioned before, I don't have the best of luck with water. In fact, Joe McIntyre from Coronation Street has better luck around water than I do. None of it is due to bad management like leaving taps on or by dodgy DIY jobs. It just decides periodically to drip then spurt from valves, gush furiously from central heating pipes cut by workmen or seep from fractured drain pipes. I've begun talking to my washer and sending it black looks and warnings to not even think about flooding my kitchen. I'm becoming a little obsessional about my kitchen U bend and launching my hand into the darkness whilst feeling for wet patches. Water gets you like that, it makes you a little barmy. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner had it sussed. Is that an albatross I see circling outside my bedroom window?....

ROSES ARE RED...

It's that time of year again when romance is in the air. Yes, it's Valentine's day on Sunday. Women spend misty-eyed hours poring over the soppy words in cards. Men traipse round Shell garages looking for a £2.99 bunch of crappy flowers. Failing that you'll see them looking sheepish around the garish red and black underwear section in Ann Summers or if you're slightly luckier, M&S. In offices around the country, you'll see loads of men ordering bouquets over the internet then moaning by the coffee machine at having to pay '40 bleeding quid for a bunch of friggin red roses'.

With so much love in the air, it was with interest I spotted the following story today. A primary school in Weston-super-Mare has been criticised for banning Valentine cards to save pupils from the "emotional trauma" of being rejected. Pupils at the school have been stopped from exchanging cards because the head teacher said they weren't emotionally mature enough to cope and that being 'dumped' interrupted their learning. He went on to say children should wait until they are emotionally and socially mature enough to fully understand the commitment in having a boyfriend or girlfriend. That has just about summed up what I always thought about teachers and in particular head teachers. Getting leftie and right on about the culture of commercialism is just about bearable. But protecting the little darlings from the emotional upset of rejection from not receiving a card? P-LEEZE.

I have a theory about this. Stay with me through the 'eee, when I was a lass' bit because it gets interesting I promise...

My generation growing up in the 70's was probably the last generation to be able to go out and play with masses of freedom and independence. With no distraction from tv and wii games, we hung about in gangs and got muddy knees, fell off bikes, fell out with each other and chased your persecutors with dog dirt on the end of sticks (tomboy obviously). Days were endless and you came home when you hungry. Your parents never knew where you were because you didn't have mobile phones. Fights and name-calling were commonplace. If you could climb trees or ride bikes or jump over dykes then great. If you couldn't, you couldn't. It was a melting pot for bringing out all personalities from the strong ones, the feisty ones, the weak, the lazy and the comics. Fighting for your place, your own battles and having a realism over your capabilities and failings made you strong and gave you a bit of backbone. You understood and accepted that coming third in a race meant that two people ran faster than you and were better on the day. It lay the foundations for adult life in that hard knocks or rejection although not very pleasant, were not insurmountable. You learnt fast that to be good at something took hard work and determination. You learnt that life wasn't always fair and equitable.

There seems to have been a movement over the past few years of protecting our younger generation from what seems to be any disappointment. Any chance of rejection or competition is snuffed out in order to promote fairness and equality. I also think there's an element of parents also building their little darlings up into pampered prince and princesses, at the centre of the family, clad in only the best clothes and UGG boots / Adidas Predators. Young people seem to have a natural confidence particularly surrounding their capabilities and self-image which at times borders on arrogance. However, this seems to implode spectacularly when their 'talent' or personality is either challenged or exposed negatively. Just watch any episode of the current talent shows to see floods of tears, shrieking, hugging, throwing themselves on the floor or better still, total disbelief and answering back when any of the judges say 'sorry Charlene, but you're crap'.

Teachers need to stop being so namby-pamby and concentrate instead on educating and inspiring children to aspire to something other than a WAG, a footballer, or working in the mee-dia. Valentine's day cards are harmless fun. They are not emotionally damaging. If a kid doesn't get one, that's life, they'll get over it.

Roses are red, violets are blue, I feel bloody old and I hate Valentines day too...

DANCES ON WHEELS

Yet another dance programme hits our screens tomorrow night. BBC Three is airing 'Dances on Wheels' which mixes wheelchair users with some of the stars of Strictly Come Dancing and celebrity dance partners.

Whilst I applaud the BBC's decision to televise disability in a positive way within a popular mainstream show, I can't help but feeling it stretches the dance tv show formula a little too far. The BBC can sometimes be accused on occasion to wring out a hit show like SCD into every connotation possible and this show is no exception. I have a feeling it will be more about the celebrities, the choreographers and judging panel shoeing off their inimitable skills and eye for the main chance of a bit of self-promotion. I'm happy to be proved wrong, but I imagine the 'dancing' on show from the wheelchair users will be participation in hand and arm gestures and some 'passion' and emotion shown in the facial movements which will encourage the usual inane judges comments about the 'journey'.

Anyway, the jury's out as to whether the BBC will pull this off and manage credible viewing figures over six episodes. Good luck...