The Final Countdown. The Art Of The TV Review.

Its November 1st and today marks a major milestone for us. It's the first day of our last working month and the clock is now well and truly ticking down towards our retirement. I'm going to devote the blog for the final month (or at least some of it) to the things closest to our hearts as well as to people and businesses that have meant a lot to us over the last twenty years. I'll probably be including some of my all time favourite YouTube videos too.

Regular blog readers (and yes there are some - hello Mum), will know that Marion and I are big fans of the arts.You might think us a bit lowbrow as we love X Factor just as much as we love Puccini or Piero Della Francesca but we're comfortable with that, unlike those who wouldn't dream of confessing to enjoying the weekly Cowell glitterfest or the daftness of Harry Hill.Our son Paul is often amazed when people he meets in the industry who make shows for the masses proclaim without a trace of embarrassment that they don't watch that sort of TV.

Anyway, to get to the point, if you love entertainment and the arts, you love reading about them and the first page that I turn to every morning after checking on the soap opera that is my football team is the TV review. I've been lucky over the years as The Guardian has employed some of the finest TV reviewers and previewers including the inimitable Nancy Banks Smith , Charlie Brooker, Grace Dent and now Sam Wollaston. Unlike reviews of theatre productions, new albums, concerts, books, films or exhibitions which people tend to read to form a decision on whether to see or buy the product a good TV review is in itself a form of entertainment and I am happy to read about something that was on the box last night irrespective of whether or not I saw it.

A good TV critic will always sell papers. Jim Shelley at The Mirror, AA Gill and now Caitlin Moran of The Times are all talents who must be treasured by their proprietors and kept at all costs - as was the legendary Clive James whose ten years as The Observer's critic resulted in no less than four books of published reviews. In today's Guardian, Sam Wollaston writes a fabulous piece on Return Of The Rhino: A Last Chance To See Special (BBC2). It's not a programme that I would watch but I am always happy to read a good review and speaking of how the white male rhino is taken back to Africa after thirty odd years in a zoo in the Czech Republic Sam writes "He sniffs the warm ground, stirring distant memories maybe, then takes a mouthful of long fresh African grass. Mmm... after 35 years of dumplings and pilsner." Perfect.

Which takes me back yet again to the absence of a good critic in our regular Sunday paper. When Kathryn Flett left the Observer I blogged on here "Heartbroken On Valentine's day" as one of life's pleasures departed. Her TV reviews were full of humour and clever observation and her magazine pieces on life in her home town of "Random On Sea" were a joy and guaranteed that both Marion and I could grab different sections of the paper without arguing who was going to read her contributions first. Since she left in February I have been patiently reading all of her replacements. All are good writers but none has mastered the rare art of the TV review (and it is an art) and this week I couldn't even be bothered to read to the end and that's a first. If the Observer doesn't find a decent replacement soon I'm going to have to break a lifetime's habit and drop the paper. And just to show what a difference a writer makes, I even read and enjoyed the car review in the Guardian recently when Sam Wollaston wrote it and if you know that I drive a Prius you'll appreciate the level of my interest in cars.



I see that a lot of genuine TV reviewers are active on Twitter while the big shows like X Factor and Downton are on so they are genuinely interested and not just reviewing from DVDs. With X Factor I put my money where my mouth was and, having suggested that Cher Lloyd seemed to be a good value bet at 14:1 last week, I was amazed to see her odds on Betfair rise to 15:1 on Saturday before the show started. Backing her at those odds I could now guarantee a profit as they have tumbled to around 7:1 now but I think that she's got a lot further to go and I am not hedging my bets just yet. Remember we both tipped Joe at the audition stage last year although Marion's got a few favourites this time.


Oh well, twenty nine days to go now. That's TV reviewers off my chest, what beckons tomorrow? With the news of Cherie's dabblings recently, eBay might be topical.

A Magnificent Gesture?

If proof were needed that not all Premier League Footballers are narcissistic prima donnas who spend most of their spare time seeking super injunctions to stop the tabloids writing about their sordid private lives look no further than West Bromwich Abion's Gonzalo Jara. Before the kick off at Anfield on Sunday the announcement was made over the PA that, in support of the trapped Chilean, miners Jara was to donate ... cue drumroll and hushed silence around the ground, wait for it............ his match worn shirt. Wow!! Has there ever been a more generous gesture in the history of the Premier League - the PA might as well have announced that I bought a copy of the "Big Issue" outside Lime St Station on Saturday. Why this noble act was announced to such dramatic effect is beyond me. I may be being unfair to Jara. He may not be one of those footballers who are paid tens of thousands of pounds every week (although he almost certainly earns more that 99.9% of those in the crowd) and that shirt might have been very precious to him. Maybe he was also donating some cash but was keeping quiet. But whoever thought that announcing that a Premier League player was going to give up a shirt would be viewed as an act of magnanimity worthy of mentioning proves how out of touch with reality those in the higher echelons of the game are. I know that around me the announcement was met with laughter. No doubt the shirt will be auctioned so that an ordinary fan can dig deep in his pocket to be the true (and no doubt anonymous) benefactor.



Here's a very rare Bank Holiday sight -our garden in sunshine. I've had a wonderful Bank Holiday sitting in the garden reading the Saturday, Sunday and Monday papers all in one go. My only misgiving is that the Observer still hasn't recovered from the loss of Kathryn Flett whose TV reviews were always the first thing I turned to and whose musings from her home town of "Random on Sea" the second. I'm following her on Twitter but, however witty her 140 characters are they are no substitute for her clever and highly accurate take on life that guaranteed a smile every Sunday for many years. Sorry Observer but you haven't found a replacement yet and when David Mitchell is away, as he was this week, the newspaper is not half the read that it used to be. If you can't entice Ms Flett back why not poach Sam Wollaston from The Guardian? He's about the best there is at the moment, along with Charlie Brooker and Grace Dent.



I wonder what they would have had to say about Saturday's Magic Numbers when Stephen Muhern gave one viewer an enormous prize of £310,000. The odds against winning this amount were huge but in a suspense filled couple of minutes a man from Kent who is getting married in a fortnight managed to choose five boxes containing huge sums of money whereas on each pick there was a near fifty fifty chance of winning nothing. The show went from strength to strength and got bigger and bigger each week. Marion and I enjoyed it very much and have taped all seven episodes for posterity and addition to our son's virtual scrapbook.



Tomorrow used to be the last day of our financial year but it is now just the end of month two. However, I will be looking with interest at Craig's spread sheet to see if all the right columns turn green as we hit sales targets. Lets hope that caterers have had equally pleasant Bank Holidays to ours and their coffers are ringing with record sums to go out and spend on new boilers tomorrow to bring a record end to what would have been our year.

It's Over

After months of excitement in the run up to son Paul's wedding, it's all over now. But what a lovely day it was for everyone involved. I was so taken with the proceedings that I took very few photos (and only this one of the bride and groom) but hopefully there will plenty of official photos in the next couple of weeks when the happy couple return from honeymoon in Cuba.Over a hundred guests attended the event and it was a great success. Here are a few of my snaps from the day.




Here's Marion with our close friend Jane.



Daughter Sarah with partner Duncan.



Paul's Grandmothers Flo and Ann.



My sister Julie and daughter Natasha.



My brother Peter and his wife Val.


Peter and Val's daughter Lisa with partner Brad.



Friends David and Janet.



Marion with Josephine's mum Jenny.



Being away at the wedding meant missing Northern Area Sales Manager Peter Brindle's 49th birthday. Keen golfer Peter has worked for Instanta for 19 years and is a key member of our personnel having worked his way from the factory floor where he once ran our sheet metal department through a stint as buyer and on to sales.Married to Linda, Peter is a dedicated dad. His eldest, John, married last year whilst daughters Lucy and Katie are still at primary school and are doing extremely well. A very popular man with the customers,Peter has taken on the challenge of our takeover by Zip with great enthusiasm and is determined to make a big success of it.Apologies for the delay Peter but, better late than never, I hope that you had a brilliant day.



Heartbroken on Valentine's Day.

I was really down when I read yesterday's Observer. As always, I turned first to the magazine to read Kathryn Flett's brilliant column. (I used to turn first to her equally brilliant TV review and was disappointed when that ended recently). And what did I read? Yesterday's was her last column. Why has she gone? Where is she going to? Sunday mornings won't be the same again without the humour that she injected into the day. I do hope that her writing continues. If she moves to another Sunday I'll be moving with her (as long as it isn't the Mail or Express of course).

As our retirement is approaching I had better start to think of things to do next year. How about this?

It Was Fifty Years Ago Today

It was fifty years ago today that a young Anthony Mercer arrived in the world and I am sure that all blog readers will join me in wishing him a very happy birthday in his holiday resort of Alcudia in sunny Mallorca.(He's changed a bit from the cheeky little chappy above) I am sure that Tony will be too busy holidaying to read this so I might get away with taking a few liberties. (Only kidding Tony I know there's an Internet cafe just down the road from the hotel).Tony has spent 35 of his 50 years here at Instanta and has held the role of factory leader for over twenty of those years. Married to Linda and proud father to Gillian, Rachel and Craig and granddad to Craig's lovely daughter Amelia, Tony has led the factory to hitting all production targets in every month of our last financial year bar September. And when did Tony take his fortnight's holiday? You guessed. September. If you are reading this Tony. Have a good one.



He went from cheeky schoolboy to suave and sophisticated with the smouldering look.



And here he is with son Craig who now works in our machine shop and had the sense to support a decent football team instead of his dad's beloved MU.

Have a drink on us Tony.



I learned an important lesson in humility in Tesco on Friday evening. Anyone who knows me will also know that I am not the most tolerant and patient where queues are involved and I can be seen trawling the checkout area in search of the fastest cashiers with the shortest queues. On Friday we found the perfect one - just one customer ahead and a young lady on the till. But we were there for an eternity as the customer she was serving queried the bill and the special offers and the price and just about every bloody thing he could query. I was doing my rolling eyes act, arms folded and shifting from foot to foot when I realised that the poor customer had special needs. The trip to do his own shopping was probably a huge ordeal for him and it was one that he overcame with success. Marion got chatting with him and I felt very small at my impatience.I think that the lesson I learned was to try and think twice before forming an impression. We were still late home with the shopping though.



For fear of looking like a stalker I have resisted the urge to write to Kathryn Flett of the Observer to tell her how brilliant her writing is. So I'll just have to say it here. Her weekly column in the Observer magazine is an exceptional example of humorous writing at its very best and this week's article about her being invited to open an arts festival in her home town of "Random on Sea" was beautifully observed. As a star of "Grumpy Old Women" she was given more ammunition when she was referred to as Random's "crankiest" old woman and introduced by the mayor as Carolyn.You can read the full column here and if you like a good laugh, buy the Observer. You won't be disappointed. PS Her TV column is wonderful too.



Did you see that the BBC has discovered a new species of giant rat? No it's not Chris Moyles but it seems that a Beeb film crew explored a volcano crater in Papua New Guinea and it was like The Land That Time Forgot with scores of new creatures being discovered. Well done BBC but please, whatever you do, don't bring any back here.

I'll finish with a little film for Tony.