blonde poker forum

I  have realised that as I get older there is no doubt that I am becoming a cross between Victor Meldrew and Albert Steptoe , a sort of dirty old man with attitude but I am so fed up with one particular aspect of society that I have come on here to have a good rant.....

Yet again this morning whilst tuning in to a radio station I heard a health expert droning on about the risks of being overweight. In the last few months I have seen stories about charging more on airlines for fat people, how it is fat peoples fault that they are fat, the extra strain that fat people put on the health service. Obesity amongst children is on the increase. All of this whilst society believes that the norm is thin. Thin is good. Fat people have bad body odour. Thin people don't. Constant images of some fat person walking down the High Street with half their arse falling out the back of their jeans. All generalisations that don't withstand a second of hard scrutiny. And who is this society anyway? Of course it us. You. Me. We all influence in some sort of way whether actively or passively. I have over the past few years been described in many ways about my physical appearance. None of them pleasant and none of them necessary and over a period of time they have worn me down and now I am going to conform to what SOCIETY thinks I should look like.

To this end tomorrow I am going on to a severe weight loss program. Probably with some critical side effects that will leave me ill in some way. Don't ask me why I don't take more exercise and have a sensible diet. This just does not work for me. Tried it so many times it feels like death by a thousand cuts. Done the fart plan, the heart plan and green and red days. Done the Atkins. so now live and in your living room I am going to do "Lighter Life" or the not so heavy at death course (needless to say at that point I may well be senile anyway). I am going to post on here the whole thing fear, cost, result, mood swings the whole lot and you are going to suffer it with me.

Am I dreading it? You had better believe it. Roll on tomorrow morning........and see some of you tomorrow afternoon.

Good Luck, if it helps I know 2 people that have done this and it worked fantastically for them. They are so happy and feel great, look great too.

Good luck Snat.

Good Luck Snatty, Debbie did it and stuck to it and it worked wonders. Unfortunately she had some more bother with her thyroid (we think still trying to get a clear answer) and she has put it back on. However she is starting again next week and i'm sure she will be glad to answer any questions you have of someone who has been through the process this weekend.

why didn't atkins work iyo?

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO your lovely as you are!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gl mate, Im actually in the process of doing the same. Aim is to be avg weight by the end of 08, 2 stone down, 4 to go.

I think he is  too Dewi, but some are not happy in thier skin. I discuss this many times with folk. Me personaly I have a different attitude to life now. If you don't like what you see , don't look.

Having tried many plans myself, I am interested to see what this involves Phil, how much it costs etc etc

and does it give you a willpower pill too?

Snatty. You are definitely up there in my top 3 when it comes to having a rant.

I take my hat off to you.  ;hattip;

Good luck.

 ;indestructable;

and good luck...

so you eat very low calories, your body goes into starvation mode, stores fat and eats muscle. the less muscle you have the lower your metabolism and calories you burn every day. I have heard and I dunno if it's true that if you put on 6 pounds of muscle you burn 300 more calories a day, thus the 2p2 fitness forum's mantra - if you wanna lose weight lift heavy shit. If you wanna have 4 shakes and 1000 cals or whatever a day I guess you could just do it yourself? but seriously I am 100% certain that if you get a fitness instructor to come round your house 3 times a week which will prob cost like £5K a year and cut out some starch and refined carbs you will lose a ton of fat without having to starve yourself. but whatever, GL with it

http://www.t-nation.com/findArticle.do?article=05-009-diet (http://www.t-nation.com/findArticle.do?article=05-009-diet)

seems like the same kinda thing, think lot of threads about people who have tried this on forums like t nation and bodybuilding.com

If calories in > calories used then you will put on weight.
If calories in < calories used then you will lose weight.

That's the crux of any approach to weight-loss (I hate the word diet as it omits half of the equation).

I'd suggest a low-fat diet is better (low in saturated and hydrogenated fats in particular) for your health, but the benefits of a low-fat diet (for health reasons) will be more important to some than others.

Good luck with whatever you do :)up

Today on Yahoo


LONDON (AFP) - England, famous across the world as the country of Shakespeare, royalty, fair play and manners, is a nation of "overweight, sex-and-celebrity-obsessed TV addicts", according to a new tourist guide.

(Advertisement)
The "Rough Guide to England", which was written by four British travel writers, says that there is nowhere "so fascinating, beautiful and culturally diverse, yet as insular, self-important and irritating, as England".

The country has been scarred by the 2005 London bombings and the Iraq war, making it a "querulous, quarrelsome country" that could be in the grip of an identity crisis, it says.

English people may hold forth on politics, law and order and immigration, but also lap up "celebrity chit-chat".

"As a glance at the tabloid newspapers will confirm, England is a nation of overweight, binge-drinking reality TV addicts," it says.

Reserve is still a key national trait -- attempting a conversation with a stranger "can be seen as tantamount to physical assault", the guide says -- and a person's accent is the equivalent of a consumer brand.

Social inequality is rife, too, as "a tiny aristocracy, who in some cases trace their roots to the Norman Conquest of the eleventh century, still own most of the land" and there is an attack on creeping materialism.

The guide also rails against "identikit" provincial towns and "overpriced, under-funded public transport".

Foreign tourists are also warned that the English are "the most contradictory people imaginable".

"However long you spend in the country you'll never figure them out," it adds.

But the guide is not entirely negative, reserving a soft spot for the country's love of animals, generosity to charities, irony, its openness to refugees, thriving arts and culture and the soothing quality of BBC Radio 4.

Was using Dean Austin the ex spurs footballer for six months last year doing exercise and diet. I will be doing exercise during the programme my problem is/has always been refined carbs....even went to my hypnotherapist about this one but it hasn't worked.........choice of nice apple or two slices of toast butter and jam....no brainer....oh I'll just have another two

will give you all the info

phil one of the nicest guys i have had the pleasure to meet through poker, good luck my friend  ;goodluck;

Oh yes tried this one.......the problem is deep and psychological possibly/definitely. Of course the bit that is straight forward is the liquid bit........the reintroduction of food is the complex bit I reckon...........though neither is easy.

The Atkins worked and I lost 4 stone about 5 years ago........and then in a moment of weakness somebody offered me a bread roll.......I didn't mean to.....I thought one bread roll won't hurt.........I can give bread up dead easy. It was a slippery slope soon I was back on the hard stuff, pasta, roast potatoes the rest of course is history

The wishes of encouragement have quite overwhelmed me..........thank you

Have a bet with someone that you can lose X amount, that should be enough motivation for a poker player surely.

That said, anyone wanna run a book on this?

Good luck young man, Im sure you can do it.

Good luck Phil. If all else fails why not try growing a couple of inches taller?


just a thought

Goodluck Snat x

I prefer you as you are Snat, but good luck fella.

Remember though, you can lose weght, but you'll always be ugly. And we like you like that.

Remember this Yoda chops
Ugly is in the eye of the insulter

Get yourself a WII fit, problem sorted.

Good luck Phil,

Let me know what ur plan is, i may even join u.

FYP

Gl Snattie,

Your a top fella and your life priorities are in perfect order. Good look mate x

I'd definately reccommend a good mix of weights and cardio. I used to just do cardio and found it harder to keep a stable weight when I got bored of running. I'm now trying to include weights and feel so much better - not only do you burn more calories and become trimmer it helps keep motivation during the bored periods because you can mix it up.

Good luck, but don't try and make it more difficult than it is. I'd stick to 2000 to 2500 calories a day on a balanced diet and look to burn off 700 - 1000 in cardio a day, three or four days a week, with a couple of weight sessions on top.

Problem with this is that muscle weighs more than fat, so in terms of getting the body weight down a weight programme won't really help much unless you train purley for speed and power and try not to build up muscle mass.

Cardio work is great for burning fat, loosing weight and for overall fitness but shouldn't just involve running, infact running for someone who is overweight is a bad idea, putting extra stress on muscles and joints needlesly when there are loads of decent cardio exercises that don't involve running.

For fat burning I'd suggest aerobics and swimming.

If a weight training programme is included it should be high weights, low reps, but to get to a decent level take a lot of prep work.  For someone beginning a weight programmed should always try and get a single maximum lift in and then revert back to 70% building up between 2.5% - 7.5% a week and getting in say 5 reps for 5 sets.

pretty sure that when 99.99999999% of people say they wanna lose weight they really mean they wanna lose fat

Yeah, thats what I took the thread to be.

Bandit - My training is very fixed on the long term goal of a marathon, I can do some bike and cross training but at the end of the day I'll be running so thats what I need to be doing, which can get boring no matter what sessions you follow! But sound advice in general I think.

Best of luck shedding those pounds.

Don't do it because you have submitted to society, do it for yourself, to feel better. Far greater chance of success that way imo, losing weight is a mind game and you need to nail your motivation.

it worked for me!!!!!!!! ;D

Good luck Snat, it's a lot easier if you can work regular gym trips into your lifestyle. I go four or five times a week, mid-morning, just so I can eat and drink what I like.
I went from 120K to 98K a few years ago and now maintain things at 100-105k. If I get close to the upper limit, it's time to cut back.
Diets are not an option for me so I try to burn it off instead. Much easier that way if you've got the time to do it.

best of luck to you Snat

was a pleasure meeting you this weekend!

Okay so Saturday morning I set off for the induction into the world of Lighter Life. There are some things I already know.
I know it is going to be a group session love in thing
I know it is going to last an hour
I know I am dreading it.....
So driving the snatmobile I turn up the volume and just let the Undertones "My perfect cousin" just wash over me.
There were four of us in the group and that is all I will say about the other members.
Our counsellor is called Angelina (Name change to protect the innocent). Out come the questionnaires. The health one was a belter. I mean why don't they ask questions that you can say yes too....such as

Do you suffer from flatulence?
When was the last time you had a headache?
Do you bite your nails?
Can you ride a bike?

Next comes the weigh in.....oh my god.....lady these scales are busted. I weigh....wait for it......can I really bring myself to say this......22 stone. 22!!!!!! How the hell do my legs do it.  I mean keep all that weight in some sort of upright position. This is a miracle. Then she measures how tall I am. Then works out my bmi. Angelina tells me I am morbid obese.......listen girl I am not morbid bloody anything.

Definition from Chambers online dictionary
morbid adj 1 displaying an unhealthy interest in unpleasant things, especially death. 2 medicine relating to, or indicating the presence of, disease.

So even my obesity is diseased then. The very term does not make sense. I much prefer the diagnoses that are long and people do not understand. Things such as Pseudovariola make you sound like a sick university student.....but morbid obese. Move on Phil move on.

and so I will very soon

Morbid is not a word I'd associate with you at all.

Those shoes though...

So driving the snatmobile I turn up the volume and just let the Undertones "My perfect cousin" just wash over me.


listen girl I am not morbid bloody anything.


Phil. That piece is not just excruciatingly funny, it's also scintillatingly well written. (I've been waiting to use those superlatives for ages, but I only have tikay to work with)

More please.

Phil, I hope you don't lose any weight from your feet and go down a shoe size,

or you'll end up with 400 pairs of shoes that don't fit.

Good luck with this as long as it makes you feel better, but I kind of like you the way you are xx

Some may suggest that a change in his footwear collection is long overdue  ;whistle;

Snatty relaxing at the bash:

(http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/42281000/jpg/_42281436_marcos416afp.jpg)

Strange you should choose that pic kin, Snatty always reminds me of the hedonism bot from Futurama.


(http://i157.photobucket.com/albums/t62/kookamachanga/hedonismbot800-1.jpg)

And yet sees himself as

best of luck Phil

xxxx

Okay so we finished last time with me coming to terms with being morbidly obese....
Next came the DVD....it had moments that can only be described as video nasty. Lovely photos of people looking thin after having the airbags that were hidden about their bodies removed. Some of the results were in honesty astonishing. They told us how easy it was......we are fat not stupid......remove food drink bile. It is easy....hmm not convinced.Then we switch to a clip of some guy who tells us how good his sex life is since he lost all this weight.

way, way too much information.....and people say imagination is a good thing. It is a curse I tell you.

Four packs a day in a variety of flavours......okay with that
Four litres a day of water..........going to wee in the Olympics
A weekly love in session...............omg my worst possible nightmare. I went to Weight Watchers just the once. Sharing rice cake with women who are telling stories about how cardboard tastes nice put me off weight loss love in sessions permanently.
But wait a glimmer of hope on the horizon.....Angelina pipes up that there is a blokes only session on a Thursday.....okay I am in. I know new man is supposed to open up and be able to express his emotions and all that guff but I can't. I do envy those who can but it just isn't me. I want to talk football, poker, rugby , women, without an eyes to heaven response (I apologise to those ladies who can converse on these subjects). So Thursday it is then. Bugger I have got a pasta tasting convention in Rome from Tuesday until Saturday,actually it is a trade show but what the hell when in Rome ....What to do??? (pan European expression used by the Germans when facing a problem)

Well obviously there is nothing I Can do. I just have to accept that I will have to wait until a week on Thursday and start then...........so you guys and girls will have to wait until a week on Friday to get the next installment and every Friday after  that I will post a TW3 (for you youngsters you will have to look it up).

And that was that. Not so bad really.....I celebrated by having a long burst of Stiff Little Fingers whilst hurtling up the motorway to the blonde bash. By the time I got there I was positively euphoric and celebrated by having a Guinness.

Good Luck Phil  :)up

all the best Snat.   Jake Burns FTW

GL with it Snat!

You made the whole table piss themselves when u started singing and someone said you should have come to kareoke the night b4.  Your reply of, ''I would have but i had to be at fat bastard club'' was priceless!

You are too kind sir. Though you may have missed my best one liner of the event which was to Joobie and went along the lines of "Have you ever tried playing with an erection?"  Now that was a stupid question.

worked perfectly though, let me win haha ;)

I have a new game for this evenings flight to Germany. My company have actually paid for speedy boarding even though it is a complete waste of money. In the past I have tried unsuccessfully to get into the speedy boarding queue when not beoing entitled to.
Tonight for the first time in history somebody with speedy boarding is going to go to the end of the last queue. I just have to know if the attendant will come and tell me just as rudely that I am in the wrong queue.......

Result to be posted in next weeks instalment of the fat club

Good Luck!! x

Best of luck Snatty

Was grate to meet you at the weekend (loud blond to your right in the omaha)

Hope it all works out for you

Zab

Good luck Snat xx

best of luck with the diet! - snatty hugs will never be the same!

 
can't remember what prompted that but i'm not sure i want to know!!

Snatty your a mere welterweight, over two million Americans weigh over 40 stones.

Gl Snat sir - hope it all goes well, although will a new slim snatty be able to talk even faster!

If I'd known that was the last I'd see of yer wee belly, I'd have given it a better rub.  Good luck and whatever happens, be happy!

We can only hope so

Was this lady at the meeting.

no but i think her sister might have been.....quite put me off my lasagne

looks more like a doughnut to me.

actually as I am in Rome with work I have to admit it was a rather large helping of Tiramisu

actually as I am in Rome with work I have to admit it was a rather large helping of Tiramisu
[/quote]

Nicely done Snatty, if I learned anything from trying to shed a few lunches in my life is that EVERYTHING in moderation is good for you. (Except Polonium and Sushi if you're Russian).

Sensible eating and the odd treat to keep you happy is always the best bet.

Best of wishes and Good luck.

So last night finds me back in the car going to fat club. Since last we met it has been a truly hectic time in the work world of the Snat with two trips to Germany and a superb trip to Rome……..I mean what menus, so much choice and I have not started this whole lose weight by liquid thing yet anyway. Tiramisu or Gelati? My sort of question.

Now whilst doing all this continental travel I had the pleasure of travelling exclusively with Ryanair. This was not just due to the cost but they actually had the routes I needed and the best time fit. So god bless good old Wacom (a fine company) they pay for me to have priority boarding and one piece of luggage. Now I am going to impart some important knowledge to you right now. There are only 60 yes 60 priority seats and one piece of luggage equals 15 kilos.
So I check into Stansted to be told that I am 2kg overweight. This young lady should have been at fat club because it is considerably more than 2 kilos. I politely ask how much this will be and I am informed with a scowl that it will be £12 per kilo. Now listen up Anne for this is her name if you want to work in a service industry do not do it with a scowl but I already know it is too late. With a large queue behind me I now go into full Meldrew mode. “How much is an additional suitcase?” I ask. £18 says Anne. “So you can put an extra suitcase on a plane for less than it costs for my 2 kilos which do not take up any more space? Is this correct?”. Yes says Anne with an even bigger scowl. “I don’t believe it says I”.
 Then my favourite line of our little exchange. In an attempt to be helpful she comes up with….”Well you could transfer some stuff from your suitcase to your hand luggage”……and I can see other people doing this. They are dragging clothes from their suitcase and are going to carry them in their hand luggage with everybody looking on. I look at Anne and think…no I am not going to tell you. Anyway I get a little slip of paper that I have to take to a completely new queue to pay for the excess. I am now getting a good insight into how difficult it was to get food during the communist regime in Russia. Now as I reach the front of the queue I meet another happy smiling employee or rather somebody who knows that when they were handing out the jobs this morning she was one level away from cleaning the toilets. Hello Sonya says I as I pass over my slip of paper. She scowls. Now there is a surprise. She hands me a book that I have to sign. First I write “I hate this airline because I am not allowed to take my clothes with me” and then I sign my name safe in the knowledge that one day an auditor will be going through that book and will spot the tiniest of protests. I then have to take a new piece of paper back to Anne who finally issues me with my boarding card.
So three Ryanair flights and three lots of excess and three comments in three different books in three different countries. My tip is take an extra bag with you in your suitcase as it is cheaper than paying excess.

Sorry for digressing but I just had to get all of that out of the system. So back to last night. Pistols blasting out the Snatmobiles stereo, Pretty Vacant was the exact track, and I arrive for my first all male bonding session, plus weigh in and pick up my weeks supply of nutritious soups and shakes……..oh blimey yeah. Now some of the guys look really good they have lost large amounts of weight. I get weighed and it gets entered into my own little book. Then horror of horrors I am asked to measure my waist. When Angelina says measure your waist she is talking about my real waist, not that thin strip of body that my trousers somehow miraculously cling onto. Ready for this 56 bloody inches. OMG.

Anyway I fill out my menu choices  strawberry, vanilla, mushroom, banana, 4 bars, water flavours my word what choices. Get a new bag to hold them in. A new whisk, battery operated. And a booklet on what to expect. Let me tell you that booklet was accurate. I do have a headache. I have drank lots of water. I have taken my first sachet. Strawberry. Not too disgusting and I am about to have my second. Vegetable soup I think. I am hungry but not impossibly so. I mean every year I fast for 25 hours. No food, water or anything so I am aware of the mental requirement at the start (Fast of Yom Kippur aka the Day of Atonement).

I will tell more next week

what do you think of Gary Taubes? quack out to make a quick buck or reputable researcher/author?

if you have time this video is worth a watch

http://webcast.berkeley.edu/event_details.php?webcastid=21216 (http://webcast.berkeley.edu/event_details.php?webcastid=21216)

http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9F04E2D61F3EF934A35754C0A9649C8B63&sec=health (http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9F04E2D61F3EF934A35754C0A9649C8B63&sec=health)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Good-Calories-Bad-Challenging-Conventional/dp/1400040787/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1211543386&sr=1-1 (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Good-Calories-Bad-Challenging-Conventional/dp/1400040787/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1211543386&sr=1-1)

his arguments seem well made. What do I know. You pays your money and takes your choice

So end of week 1.
A whole week going to bed feeling like an over inflated space hoppa. I mean have you ever tried to drink 4 litres of water of every day.
I now have a new sport for the Olympics

In the red corner weighing in at morbidly obese I give you Phil Cooklin who is now weeing for Britain.....Phil a fat bloke from Hertfordshire is new onto the weeing seen but he has outstanding potential......he starts well.....can he beat the world record....oh yes he can. So thats gold for Britain and a record time of continual weeing of 4 mins 21 secs.

Talking of the Olympics.....how on earth did it end up in Stratford. A long time ago I was the manager of the Burton menswear store in Stratford and let me tell you if it wasn't nailed down it was nicked. All that heavy duty plant to be stolen they must think it is Xmas. In fact Stratford still holds lots of memories for me. I was a very young manager. Twenty one when I had my first store. I had visited the area before interview as it had been advertised twice and I knew there had to be a reason. As I walked into the store there was one old guy a member of staff moving suits with a pipe hanging out his mouth. There were two sales people leaning on the racks of clothes talking about what they were going to do tonight...and there in the corner with absolutely nobody watching him was a 15 year old kid about to load jeans into a hold all. So I went and stood next to him. I didn't say a word. Just stood and looked at him. Anyway much to my surprise he decided not to steal the jeans and left the store.I should have turned round and just not applied. No not me. This store was going to be my launchpad. It could only go one way. Useless staff. Shoplifting rife. This is a young mans dream store. The man who managed to control Stratford would be a slingshot into a much bigger store.......and anyway how hard could it be.

A bit like weight loss then. Now let me tell you this week was good in places and at other times was incredibly tough.
Friday was incredibly tough. Headaches. Or rather one long headache. Drank loads of water. Thought seriously about not starting. My mind though kept coming back to one of the ads I had seen
Losing weight is hard
Keeping it off is even harder
Not being around to play football with your son?

Oh bugger. Can't just give up then.
So onto day two. It was a dream. No headaches. Mooched around the house all day. Watched rugby on the telly. Played backgammon with the kids.
Sunday.....decided to play poker at the G. Hadn't been for a while and let me tell you what a lovely reception. So many friendly faces. Such good banter. I do miss the people and the socialising. Anyway just for amusements sake I took one of the soup mixes along with me and there in the middle of the comp with a little battery operated whisk I made up a fat boy soup mix.......I thought Tikay was going to burst as he was trying so hard not to laugh. Made a huge error when 16 left and went out about 14th. Errors happen.
Monday......took the kids to the Imperial War Museum. Fascinating stuff. Went to Waterstones afterwards as we all like a good book. End up in Cafe Nero. The kids have juice and cake. I have an Espresso and a peanut diet bar. No problem. I make supper for the whole family when we get home and clear it up. After all I might as well get used to it now. It felt good actually. It felt like it was my decision to lose this weight and as it was my choice then I have no need for any of the foods in front of me. Of course we all know it was societies fault.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday day. Went to work. No problems with diet except that at about 4 pm everyday I would suddenly get a tremendous urge to eat food.

And so back to fat club. Trepidation. What if I have put all this effort in and I have lost only a pound. I haven't cheated in anyway. I have followed the rules completely. I need special music for this journey and plump for The Buzzcocks.....Ever fallen in love (With someone you shouldn't've)...if you haven't heard this version go and get it. So with the Buzzcocks cranked up mega I drive to fat club. A really good session. They help me a lot with understanding what is going on in my head as well as my body.

Moment of truth. Weigh in time. I have lost thirteen pounds. Read it and weep. Moving on to week 2. More next week.

 wp ;applause; ;applause; can you have guinness on this diet?

Great post Phil. I don't know what I envy most, your writing or your weight loss.  :respect:

for me  its not his writing or his weightloss

Phil is a proper dad   society would be in better condition if more dads were like phil.

imperial war museum then buying a book each and playing backgammon  ;hattip; ;hattip;

Many years ago I worked for Guinness.......I wish.....one day I will have a Guinness. In fact we shall share one together

Great thread this.  Excellent reading and bloody well done with the 13 pounds.  You know if you keep it up you're going to have to go out and buy a whole new wardrobe.  Fortunately, the shoes will still fit.

:)up

From one whose story about septic tanks leaves me crying every time I read it because it is so beautifully written your comment has left me feeling a little bit humble.........don't do it again

We should do a proper collaboration of the Gypsy and the Jew
Oh and please can you please repost the story of the septic tank under its own heading for people who have not read it.

Bloody well done you - told you that you already looked like you'd lost weight!!

And what Jim says is right - fantastic Dad, fantastic kids.

Top diary and well done on the 13 pounds!

Joining fee?   :dontask:


















PS. Congrats, great going...

Stop it I am blushing......and anyway I shout far too much for no good reason to be a good father.

Just in case anyone was wondering, this is 13 pounds in chocolate:

(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)
(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)
(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)
(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)
(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)
(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)(http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc43/kinboshi/250g-choc.jpg)

Each of these is a standard 250g bar.

(http://www.chocablog.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/10/dairymilk1.jpg)

rotflmfao

Absolutely delighted for you!!!  Nearly a stone lost and 'Father of the Year' all in the same week.   ;applause; :respect:  Your diary has been a joy to read and is giving inspiration to others.  Me for one.  Well done Sir! 

Will I still get my hugs once the baby's gone

great going Phil - keep it up!

Wild elephants couldn't stop me from giving you hugs!!!

Well done Snatty!  Pleased for you!   ;applause;

Just a question though...isn't that a bit much to ideally lose in a week ....healthwise I mean? 

No expert, just sounds a bit drastic !   :dontask:

 :goodpost: ;iagree;

These are great....make exercise a lot of fun!   ;cupcake;

Work on all levels whether you want gentle exercise or something more strenuous. 

the packs are nutritionally balanced and have everything a person needs. My brother in law doctor says it is fine. I reckon there is more risk with me being morbidly obese. Who knows? I feel good lots of energy because of the ketosis. Just done 20 press ups and 20 sit ups.......haven't done that for years........riding the wave

no stock in the UK....only chancers charging a premium on e bay....it is in hand

Good enough for me!!   Keep it up, wish you every success.   :respect:

Blimey - must have needed the diet if this person was as big as two people!! ;whistle;

p.s. careful on losing too much weight too quickly - one of the biggest causes of kidney stones which i am led to believe is one of the most painful things known to the human race

Yes in demand they certainly are,  I managed to get one off Ebay a couple of weeks ago for £84 inc p&p which, whilst a bit over the rrp, was certainly worth it in terms of cutting out the hassle of trying to locate one elsewhere.

I must start closing the curtains at night though, neighbours and passers by must be having a right laugh!!   rotflmfao

hmmmm, KeithyB obtains a Wii fit and China suffers horrendous earthquake - coincidence?!?!?!?!!? ;whistle;

Errr probably but i got one last week too  ;whistle;

Great work Snatty, all the best.

...took the kids to the Imperial War Museum. Fascinating stuff.


Is the Holocaust exhibition still there Snat, what did the kids think of it? (How old are they btw?)

That was a fantastic piece of writing Snatty, you're seriously good at it.

Great work with the weight loss too.

Indeed it is. I wouldn't let Rachel go in as she is only 9. The advertised age is 14. Adam who is 12 went in with Anne Marie. Of course his knowledge of the holocaust is above average for fairly obvious reasons. Our main motivaion was to go and see the Ian Fleming exhibition. Which was okay but it lacked a bit of content. I actually didn't know that there was a holocaust exhibition there. I felt priveliged as I realised that I lived in a country that does not forget. For all its faults. We are blessed in this country with our museums they are really magnificent. The kids would live in the science museum if I gave them the chance.

given the choice of science museum or your array of quality footwear its hardly a difficult chioce................

 ;scarymoment;

Looking to update the footwear library as I type this.......I just feel it is lacking something.......oh yes class

Snat, Ever since Gypsies were recognised as an ethnic group, we have been wrngling with the government over how a Gypsy is defined.

Their proposed definition includes people who travel in persuit of their living (Which actually doesn't exclude your good self) We of course object. (Not to you, to the definition)

Anyway, it got me thinking. How is a Jew defined in law, and how does one Jew define another?

Within mainstream Jewish religious communities
According to Rabbinical Jewish law (Halakha), only a convert or a child born to a Jewish mother is counted as Jewish. Although an infant conversion might be contemplated in some circumstances (such as in the case of adopted children or children whose parents convert), children who convert would typically be asked if they want to remain Jewish after reaching religious adulthood, which is 12 years old for a girl, 13 for a boy. This standard is applied within Orthodox and Conservative Judaism, which accept Halakha as normative.[1][2]

and then there are all the splinter groups.............now it gets really tricky.......I have no idea how we are viewed in UK law but I think I might trundle off and spend a happy half hour trying to find out.

But you can be classed as 'Jewish' without believing in Judaism.  This is where the racial/cultural definition of a Jew differs from the religious one. 

Hahahaha!  Tell me about it.

This one is a belter

DE JUDAISMO, STATUTUM - The name of a statute passed in the reign of Edw. I., which enacted severe and absurd penalties against the Jews.

The Jews were exceedingly oppressed during the middle ages throughout Christendom, and are so still in some countries. In France, a Jew was a serf, and his person and goods belonged to the baron on whose demesnes he lived. He could not change his domicil without permission of the baron, who could pursue him as a fugitive even on the domains of the king. Like an article of commerce, he might be lent or hired for a time, or mortgaged. If he became a Christian, his conversion was considered a larceny of the lord, and his property and goods were confiscated. They were allowed to utter their prayers only in a low voice and without chanting. They were not allowed to appear in public without some badge or mark of distinction. Christians were forbidden to employ Jews of either sex as domestics, physicians or surgeons. Admission to the bar was forbidden to Jews. They were obliged to appear in court in person, when they demanded justice for a wrong done them, and it was deemed disgraceful to an advocate to undertake the cause of a Jew. If a Jew appeared in court against a Christian, he was obliged to swear by the ten names of God, and invoke a thousand imprecations against himself, if he spoke not the truth. Sexual intercourse between a Christian man and a Jewess was deemed a crime against nature, and was punishable with death by burning.

In the fifth book of the Decretals, it is provided that if a Jew have a servant that desireth to be a Christian, the Jew shall be compelled to sell him to a Christian for twelve pence that it shall not be lawful for them to take any Christian to be their servant that they may repair their old synagogues, but not build new - that it shall not be lawful for them to open their doors, or windows on good Friday; that their wives neither have Christian nurses, nor themselves be nurses to Christian women - that they wear different apparel from the Christians, whereby they may be known


No change there then

So true. You only had to watch Michael Sophocles performance when trying to buy a kosher chicken on The Apprentice to see that. It really is a conundrum. To be born of a Jewish mother is the key for Jewish definition and it was based on the fact that the father could have been one of many but the mother on the other hand....nuff said. Hitler went back three generations on the mothers side in his "Final solution of the Jewish question".

Another point may be the number of people who call themselves Church of England when they really have no religious observance. In the news this week there was a story that church going had dropped to 10% of the population. It probably isn't that much higher in the Jewish religion. Religion would appear to be even more unpopular than ever. Personally I think this is a shame as there are many positives to be found in all religions. It is not religion that causes wars and hatred just intolerance

He was an evil bastard all round Snat - one of his crimes being the sack of Berwick where he had everyone, man, woman & child killed because they wouldn't submit to him.

It's a shame he didn't get the death his boy did - red hot poker up anus.

The Judean Popular Front?

Fk off.  Judean People's Front. We're the People's Front of Judea!

Splitters

not to mention the people's popular front.

Whatever happened to them?


'hes over there'

Splitter!!

Wolf nipple chips

get em while there hot, they're lovely!!

otter's noses?

ocelot spleens

Chicken lips and fishes tities.

WTF are we talking about  :dontask:

not sure it matters

The funniest film ever made.  FACT!!!

Sounds vuagely pythonesque....

 :)up

So here we are in week two and unbelievably I am still weeing for Britain or should I say Wiiing for Britain. Yes it was birthday time again and as always the familiar question of “what do you want for your birthday?” rears its ugly head. I mean this one is so hard. Normally I really do not care. It is so much easier to buy for people. To give than receive. This year though I had an ace up my sleeve.

The Wii. A console where you have to get up off your backside to play just has to be the gift for this birthday. So it came to pass. What fun we had. Family tennis tournaments were the favourite. Now I am getting my Wii fit next week, bought for me by my sisters and being brought to the UK  by a German colleague and I promise to give you a full oobe (out of the box experience) next week. I also asked for clothes vouchers because the way things are going I can see a time in the future when I am going to need them.

Now strangely the subject of acronyms and clothes brings me back to my early career with Burton menswear. In 1983 Burton still did quite a lot of made to measure business and all management and senior staff had to be trained in how to measure. This was not impossible as most of the time it was based around a few key measurements. Chest of course, arm, waist of jacket, length, waist of trouser, inside and outside leg measurements. I once saw a pair of trousers where the guy measuring had got the difference between them wrong and the tailors at Goole had made a pair of trousers with a two inch zip. It was hilarious when the poor customer came out of the fitting room still trying to pull them up. Anyway when doing made to measure if possible we always liked to have two people, one to measure and one to fill out the form. Now to ensure the fit of the jacket you slip a jacket model onto the customer and look for abnormalities. A sloping left shoulder would be a left S. Square shoulders would be a Z and Gladstone Small would be a ZZ in other words no neck at all.

As with all generalisations this next one has lots of exceptions but in the main your average made to measure customer was a certain type. He could buy off the shelf but chose not to. This meant that you had a problem as a lot of the time you were fitting the mind and not the body. Now this type of customer you could see would preen himself whilst being measured. He would be taking note mentally of all the measures so he could recount the story at some later date probably during a dinner party with friends. This was too good an opportunity to miss so we started making up our own. Many the happy day measuring matey and shouting “chest 42, LFC fitting”. Matey standing there and thinking wow a 42” LFC. Of course he didn’t realise that LFC stood for “like an effin camel”. Or my favourite the inside leg call out of 27” SAT which of course stood for short arsed twat....hope that one gets passed the mods.
I recently became a matey when I had a couple of suits made to measure because I just couldn’t find anything to buy off the peg due to my abundance of girth. It was this and other triggers that made decide to go on the weight loss programme.

And so to this week on the programme. After the result of last week everybody has been incredibly supportive. Strangely though this week was tougher. I think the soups do not fill me up as much as the shakes and on days where I had two soups I was hungry at around 4pm......not good. Also the smell of freshly made toast under a grill on my birthday made me particularly weak. Nothing for it but to go for a walk. So that’s what I did. I had a nice gentle stroll round the village just saying good morning to people I didn’t know.

If I walk too fast I sweat profusely and if I do back to back boxing on the Wii I become, due to my all out attacking inclination, light headed. I have had no problem with drinking four litres of water a day now and strangely I have not missed all the things that I used to use as some sort of emotional crutch. This understanding of why I ate the food I did, at what time and the speed I ate it I think are going to be pretty crucial to my long term success going forward.

So off to fat club again. I was feeling fairly buoyant and needed music to reflect my mood. On goes Les Miserables at an exceptional volume. I have no idea why I love this musical but I do. In we go and onto the scales I get..........yes ladies and gentlemen this week I have lost another eight pounds. That is a stone and a half and I feel good........I feel so good that I decided to write this on Thursday night.....tune in next week for Phil takes on the shoplifters of Stratford, why I believe in God and a bit on weight loss.

AYYYYYYYARRRR Phil!!!! You Da Man.

Can't wait for next week's installment.

well done mate

Absolutely delighted for you!!!  As the weeks go on, you won't lose as much as fast, but that's because you have less to lose...so don't get frustrated by the numbers.  Keep it up and we won't know you next time we meet.  Well done!  xx

 :)up ;applause; ;applause;

Of course you are right and I know this to be true. The time I have taken over the past week analysing why and what I ate has changed my motivation. Of course the title of this thread was always tongue in cheek but never more so than right now. The motivation has to come from within. The other thing is I feel the train has finally left the station. Now it is easy to fall off the moving train but almost impossible to get back on.
Planning is the key. What will I do when the food comes back on line. Right now it is easy relatively speaking. No choice you see. 4 packs a day come rain or shine. Strawberry or Vanilla. Mushroom soup or vegtable soup. During this phase known as abstinence I am not setting targets. Trying not to wish for food I can't have. What's the point?
The weight will drop as long as I do the right things over a period of time. Out for dinner tonight at friends so I should be able to guage my mindset from this.

Right now I feel like the man who hits his quads as matey fills the house.........you just know it is going to be good

nice going Snatty  ;hattip;

Love the thread Phil, and particularly liked the reference to Gladstone Small who was part of a running joke between me and my elder brother.

:)up

Excellent Phil - great read and well done.

Won't say keep it up because you don't need me to tell you that.

I promised you warts and all...mood swings the whole works. This morning at 1.25am I sat bolt upright in bed. Two things shot across my head. Firstly it is my wedding anniversary and for the first time in 16 years I had forgotten it. Secondly I had to have a bagel and I had to have it right now, so I did...........
I am not sure which is worse but they both feel like massive disaster areas right now so I am going away to try and the rescue the situation..........

Oh dear   ;marks;

Unbelievable how quickly the average man can forget about everything........so already I didn't forget my wedding anniversary and the bagel just did not happen........so that's alright then.

Well the flowers cost, actually I am not going to tell you and I really did not enjoy the bagel......weird it used to be my favourite food. I actually felt quite ill. So maybe it is not all bad news.

Either way I refuse to feel too guilty about the bagel...........I do of course feel guilty as hell about missing the anniversary. I had written a post it note and stuck it in the car to remind me but didn't go out so the system kind of disintergrated. Now guilt is something that plays a massive part in any Jewish mothers armoury. Why didn't you call me yesterday? Are you coming for dinner Friday night? Are you eating? Are you sleeping? Why aren't you married? Why are you seeing her? and so it goes on and on. So by your mid twenties you have become guilty for almost all that you do and definitely guilty for all the things you should have done. The oldest Jewish gag I know is "What is the difference between a Jewish mother and a Rottweiler......eventually the Rottweiler  lets go." So trust me when I say "I feel guilty" it is to a depth that is almost unfathomable to lots of people outside the religion.
Now Anne Marie and I met on a blind date and the story of our first meeting is long so I am not sure if I should post it, maybe another day. The week after our first meeting it was Anne Marie's thirtieth birthday and she was having a big party and I wasn't invited. Okay fair enough. New man, not sure yet whether she wants me to meet her mates and anyway I wasn't geographical suitable on account of the fact that she lived in NW London and I lived in Leicester.

After our first meeting I had kind of already decided that this one was going somewhere. So on the Friday night of her birthday weekend, loaded with flowers, champers and pressies I drove down to Mill Hill. I rang on the doorbell and she got the surprise of her life. We chatted for an hour or so and then I left and headed north again. I think she was probably more surprised by that actually.

Anyway from that moment on we went from strength to strength. From time to time we argue. Normally about something small that is hiding a bigger issue. If you think it is tough sitting next to me for an evening at the poker think of what poor Anne Marie has to put up with on a daily basis. We have two incredible children who are fast growing up and are turning into beautifully rounded individuals thanks to Anne Marie's lead.

So what I would like to say in public is Anne Marie I love you. Thank you so much for the last sixteen years they have been quite incredible.

Congrats Mrs Snat. Your old man is like a Ferrero Rocher, rough and knobbly outside, soft and nice inside. ;charmaine;

'Ambassador, with this Snatiramas you are spoiling us'

rotflmfao

congrats on the anniversary Snat.

this diary is gripping stuff. cant believe ive missed this.

my life just seems empty in comparison...

Good news all..........

Mrs. Snat forgave me for my oversight..the large bouquet of flowers with the message "I am such a clutz" helped.

Also back on the diet train.......sailed through yesterday knowing I didn't want carbohydrate because I tried it and didn't like it...

Regular post on Friday

The Wii fit arrived on Tuesday amongst much excitement at Chateau Cooklin. It has been a competitive Wii week with both Adam and I having turned PRO on both the tennis and the bowling. I think my record of 221 is going to stand for some time on the bowling and of course there is no letting the other person win…..occasionally I see a side of Adam that is so fiercely competitive it is quite frightening, for the most part though he manages to control and channel it positively. Rachel is a little bit more cunning in that she pretends not to care whilst being good enough to have the occasional win. Anne Marie is good but refuses to practice and then she gets upset when we all thump her. Back to the Wii fit. What an absolutely brilliant piece of kit. I mean the packaging is a bit too Apple for my liking but the experience is just so good for the family. As previously stated if you are an out and out gamer then this product is not for you but if you want some light hearted family entertainment then this product is right up there. You will never guess what though; having programmed all my details in on the opening screen it told me I was morbidly bloody obese again. Have played most of the games, tried some of the yoga positions and generally built up a good sweat for an hour for the past two nights without ever feeling I was overdoing it I would have to say that I find it quite inspirational. Included in this time was some gentle running on the spot though luckily I have been informed by my friendly builder that the crater this activity created can be filled in for a reasonable amount of money.

Now at the end of last week’s episode I promised the reasons I believe in God. Well actually it is one reason. It suits me to do so. Whilst I fully understand there is no evidence of a supreme being, in those times when I have found life tough or in those glorious moments such as the birth of your children or the winning of a Blond bash it is has been a source of comfort to believe that there is something more than logic and science. The problem with religion from my own perspective is that it tends to get hijacked by lunatics. They take words and philosophies twist them to suit their own needs and try to impose them upon normal rational human beings. These people are the same as football hooligans as they are in the absolute minority. Nobody’s religion is right and nobody's is wrong, they become wrong when trying to impose their thinking on other people. Okay Snat get down from the pulpit and tell them about some of the tough times that have inspired you.

At the age of twenty one I became one of the youngest managers in Burtons when I was appointed to the store in Stratford, often known as Stratford East in London…….having reviewed that sentence it made me look like Alex out of The Apprentice and he was a right little back stabbing SOB. I had better give you some background. I had got into Burtons by mistake. Having finished my A levels the Old Man (he always referred to my grandfather in the same way and it is a family tradition. It is after all so much better than taking the American system of numbering each generation having taken the same name in the first place) asked me what I intended to do during the summer holiday……eighteen years old now let me think…..well dad says I, a little snooker, punting on the horses, drinking and partying seem like a good idea. I was left in no doubt that my dreams for the holidays were not going to be realised with the conversation ending with the line “I will speak to your uncle and you can get a summer job”. Please note dear reader the use of the word I and you in that sentence. What he really means is I will speak and I will get you a summer job. Cool just like royalty.

Now I come from quite a large family and retail runs thick on both sides. Uncle Gerald owned The Woodworkers on Belvoir Street in Leicester established by one of my grandfathers, another uncle was Cecil Jacobs the chemist and photography store, my mum used to have a curtain shop in Cank Street set up by her father. Gary Linekars grandfather used to deliver the family fruit order every Friday afternoon. I knew that dad didn’t mean any of them. He meant Uncle Lawrie.

 Now in a family full of characters uncle Lawrie was quite a star. He was a lightening fast rugby winger at a rugby mad school, went to the London School of Economics and Chicago business school and at this time was one of the top three people running Burtons, Ralph Halpern the MD, Paul Plant ran operations and stores and uncle Lawrie was the director in charge of buying for the whole group. So it was decided I would get a summer job at Burtons organised by a director………oh this is just going to be great.
So I sit on the number twenty nine bus heading to the store absolutely dreading it. I mean I was used to work. I had done a paper round in my teens, picked strawberries for cash and at this time was making very good money on the horses which strangely involved quite a lot of work. It does make me wonder if I would pull similar strings for my children and the answer is a definite maybe. I digress. I am on the bus and we are pulling up in Gallowtree Gate, so named for the fairly obvious reason that it is where they used to hang people. Never was a name more apt. Oh well only one thing to do. They know I am the nephew of a director. Whatever they ask me to do, smile and say no problem. In we go. Hi. I am Phil I believe you are expecting me. Indeed the toilets that needed cleaning were expecting me. The top floor full of unsorted hangars was expecting me. The size cubes that needed sorting were expecting me. The very large deliveries that needed taking to the second floor were expecting me. I smiled. I said no problem. I got accepted for who I was after a while and at the end of the six weeks decided that I would stop wasting everybody’s time and decided to stay on.

Now as I mentioned to Dad some time later you have to be careful what you wish for. This was not in his grand scheme. My sisters were both already at university and it was expected of me that I would go too. I had however made my decision and no amount of arguing was going to change my mind. I was going to be the best assistant junior sales trainee Burtons had ever had. Sure it was almost the bottom rung on the ladder, only YTS being considered lower and that was because they were paid for by the government, but I knew I was somewhere that suited me.

So to those in the company who didn’t know me I was a director’s nephew. To the guys in Leicester I was just Phil. I moved up the ladder slowly but surely and at twenty one got on the management training scheme. Mostly university graduates big on degrees short on common sense particularly at made to measure. Did it help to have the surname I did. Sometimes it did and sometimes people really tried to push you over the edge as they did not want to be seen to show preference. After finishing the course I spent two years in Gloucester running an Debenhams department and then to my first appointment in Stratford………..oops written too much already. I will have to finish this off next week and trust me it is a belter with knives, shears and how the management training scheme helps you to deal with shoplifters.

Well as regular readers know I had a blip this week. Yes I know it was only one bagel. Yes I know I didn’t enjoy it but it has left me with a huge moral dilemma. When asked how your week was am I going to say no problem? Or tell them all about it. I have definitely still lost weight. If I say no problem who is any the wiser. Can I really do that and lie to these people. How can I look them in the eye if I behave like this? If I do tell them will they look me in the eye? One thing I was always taught was you never run away from issues that you create. So today I need special music to help me to think............hmmm better put on Dark Side of the Moon. But somehow it is not enough so I quickly switch to Down in the Sewer by the Stranglers.......much more suited to my mood.

In I go and whilst doing my weigh in I fess up about the bagel and got into a very good conversation about what motivated me, the feeling of guilt which can then turn to a feeling of depression which then causes you to eat more and so the cycle continues. If it should happen again I now know that I need to step back and give myself time to understand the craving, rationalise it and then deal with it by concentrating on the positive goal. Whilst we are on positive goals and all things positive I have this week sat at a dinner table whilst family and friends ate a full Friday night dinner with only a cup of black tea for company and felt totally content. I have sat in Pizza Express whilst colleagues had lunch with a peanut bar for company and felt totally sated. I have lost this week four more pounds. That means a total of one stone eleven pounds in three weeks. It’s going down baby, going down. More next week.

 Ahrt ;applause; :)up

It’s going down baby, going down.


Shring!!!

First class post, As they say in the .. er ... post office,

your post has the stamp of authority sir

I can think of a lot worse places to be:-)

Love the diary and the music references

Keep up the good work

Your a natural writer Snatty  ;hattip;

This has become compulsive reading for me.

Loved the "guilt" thing, it reminded me of a favourite story.

A guy telephones his mother and when she answers he says:

 "Mama how are you?"

"Well, I'm feeling a little weak"

"A little weak, why what seems to be the matter?"

"Well, I haven't eaten for seventeen days"

"Seventeen days mama ! Why on earth not?"

"I didn't want to have food in my mouth if you should call"

You're doing a great job with the weight loss and this diary.  xx

Snatty, what's the difference between the shakes and stuff you're having and just buying something like Slimfast from your local Boots?

Now that is a bloody good question. It is quite possible that I am in the middle of an "emperors new clothes" scenario. To me it seems like a perfectly good new suit but you could be right I may well be walking around naked paying well over the odds..........I do like the counselling though and it was particularly good for me last night in light of the week I have had.

Today was a huge day. In the car at 6.30am. Picking up a colleague from Stansted then up to Sheffield. Two hour meeting back to Stansted then to home. I took my stuff with me. Ate a bar on the way up drank lots of water. No probs. A really good meeting (I may do a piece on meetings and styles at a later date) and then on our way back I stop at a pub called the Lock Keeper. I take my colleague inside. I go in with my battery operated hand whisk (already known as my vibrator by Mrs.Snat) a strawberry pack and my mixing container. I sit down and get served by a lovely lady who helps me get it all sorted out and washed and dried afterwards.......would you believe that her assistant manager had lost seven stone on the course. What has been surprising is how lovely people are when you explain the situation.......

And talking of lovely people thank you all who post on here it is making a difference to me.

More please - I love love love Jewish humour!  :D

What a great read! You are right up there in the Red school of prose.

Phil, I love you. A bit.

Ah....Grandpa I love you too.

Now if you want me to write some stories about my Grandpa who, let me tell you, makes me look like the most boring person on the planet you are going to have to ask very very nicely

Pretty please cooey-wooey?

My life has been blessed in many ways but none more so than the relationship that I had as a child with my Grandparents. It is only as I move through life and see a similar relationship between my kids my parents and my outlaws that I realise how good it was. On this fathers day I am going to focus on grandfathers as a special bonus post thanks to Tikay asking so nicely. Now as you all know I grew up in a nice Jewish home. We were kosher at home, Michael Sophocles of the apprentice please note but we didn’t follow all the rules.

Oh and one last thing on Mr. Sophocles and yes I am narked that he is like me a red sea pedestrian, an eminent Rabbi who I heard addressing a bar mitzvah (the service when a boy of thirteen takes responsibility for his own actions) turned to the boy who he obviously felt he was in danger of never seeing again and came out with the following line “It is easier to leave the religion than a book club because you have to write to the book club but you can just walk away from the religion.” For me it is a great shame that Mr. Sophocles has given away his birthright when obviously he thinks it could be an advantage to him.

Anyway on Shabbat (the Sabbath) we drove, we used lights, yes we went to shul (pronounced shool and the cool way to talk about synagogue if you should happen to have any Jewish mates) but in the afternoon we went and watched the Leicester Tigers or when I played rugby at school  it was shul in the morning and rugby somewhere in the midlands in the afternoon. None of the afternoon activities are allowed. Friday night was sacrosanct and we always had a family meal with eight plus of us sitting round the table. No going out on a Friday night even as a teenager, who needs parents. Now at this point I could give you my version of Ferris Buellers’ day off as I once went against my parents’ rules but I am going to save the naughty boy stories for another time.

Now the first blessing was that I got to meet and know all of my grandparents. All unbelievable characters and my Grandfathers were always in shul. There was though a problem. My Mum’s dad, known as Zeida First (Zeida is a traditional name for a grandfather, First was his surname, changed from Firestein) sat on one side of the shul, Grandpa Cooklin sat the other. Now it was very important to the politics of the family that I spent time on both sides. There was also an added factor that all my mates sat on grandpa Cooklins side of the shul. So one side was full of chat and laughter and on the other I had to follow the service be quiet and actually pray. At the time the side with my mates and Grandpa Cooklin was where I wanted to be but as I grew up I realised I owed a huge debt to Zeida First.

So with the scene set a couple stories of both men. Every Friday night after the dishes were washed by me and dried by my three sisters (my sisters wouldn’t let me dry as if I didn’t think they had washed it properly I made them do it again) I would get to sit down with Zeida First and play chess. Zeida First I later found out played for Leicestershire and we would always play two games. He would always win the first. And he would let me lose the second as well just for good measure. When I came home from school aged about  11 I used to get 10 out 10 for maths a lot (I later found out when being tested for a job that my maths ability is really quite high). I used to show Zeida and go “look Zeida I got 10 out of 10 for maths”, he would always say “why didn’t you get 11?” but I knew he was proud. So you knew with Zeida if you won at chess you earned it and it would never be given. Also he had a tell. If he started humming I would be about to lose normally in three moves but sometimes two. Either way he knew he had me. We played hundreds and hundreds of games through the years. I won three times but let me tell you they were the three sweetest victories I ever had at any competitive pastime, including cricket in the back garden against the old man which was ferocious.

Now for Zeida Cooklin. I could tell you the story about him being on a bus and telling a friend of mine from school who he met quite at random that I was an idle wanker, or I could tell you how he used to say in a voice just loud enough for everybody in shul to hear “here comes little short arse” every time the president of the shul walked in but I am going to tell you the story of Yom Kippur aka. The Day of Atonement.

Now Yom Kippur is the most important day in the Jewish calendar. You are expected to fast for twenty five hours. No food. No water. The only thing that is supposed to pass your lips is prayer. The day is based on repentance, prayer and charity. It is really the most awe inspiring feeling when you stand there at the start of the service knowing what is ahead. Okay enough religious education. I am now thirteen. I am fasting for the first time and I am desperately struggling to get through it but all I can see is toast and butter and a nice cup of tea. We have just started the story of Jonah and the big fish which could have been a whale but there is no evidence for this other than an over imaginative PR executive trying to give the story more zip. This story is an example of faith and prayer that gets wheeled out in the afternoon every Yom Kippur. Now there used to be two services in Leicester during Yom Kippur due to a sudden rise in numbers, nothing like eternal damnation to bring them into the service, and I used to spend time in the overflow service because that was where my mates were but it was expected of me to visit my family in the main shul in the afternoon as mysteriously people disappeared.

So in I walk hungry as hell. Knowing I am going to have to sit quietly for a bit. I feel a bit faint. Grandpa Cooklin can see I am struggling and comes to the rescue. He unscrews the cap on a small brown bottle and says “Phil take a big sniff of this it will help”. I took a huge sniff. Instant eye streaming hell ensued. I had never ever been introduced to smelling salts before and to this day I have never used them again!

This post comes to you courtesy of Red Dog who having asked people to look at things more closely has made me look at those things at the core of me being who and what I am. Thanks Red it is a most interesting view.

Fantastic post Snat..a top read :)

This post comes to you courtesy of Red Dog who having asked people to look at things more closely has made me look at those things at the core of me being who and what I am. Thanks Red it is a most interesting view.


I'm afraid you are not eligible for a prize, your post is more than a week past the deadline. But fret ye not, young Snatty. Your contribution has made us all a little richer.

So many questions answered in such a short space of time.  I thank you sir.   ;hattip; 

Husband is Catholic and technically so am I, but I've never followed things the way I 'should'.  I'm afraid I'd be too open to properly follow any religion wholesale, but I do enjoy seeing all sides of it and for that I thank you.  xx   

great stuff!

bugger it can't sleep. Think I am going to have some toast. Bubbled tonight in the Macau final and can't clear my head....
Not really going to eat toast as I just had half of tomorrows peanut bar.

Oh well I am just going to win this $100 sit n go on blonde then i am going to bed

My sister married a catholic and it caused much friction in the family at the time. I just know he is a good man. That's good enough for me.

Stuff like this is one of the things that annoys me about religion. Differences between people cause enough problems as it is - introducing arbitrary ones to further differentiate us and then using that to look down upon people not in your group doesn't really help to create a harmonious world to live in. Glad to hear you're above such pettiness Snatty.


What I think you're actually feeling is the sense that you're part of something bigger. A sense of shared experiences and culture passed down the generations - you belong to something which is far bigger than just you. This is obviously very strong with Jews as because of the diaspora and lack of a country, without this being actively passed down it would have died out and Jews would have become totally assimilated into the various cultures around the world. Hence Shabbat being such a big deal - it's a reminder that Jews throughout the world will be doing the same thing at the same time - a common shared experience when the members of the group have been dispersed throughout the globe.

Obviously, God doesn't have to be the reason for this bond - it could be anything. God is just a handy shibboleth for a group of people to use to mark themselves as different from those outside the group.

Interesting opinion. I for many years have wondered whether it is the religion that creates my belief in a supreme being or some other reason. I am pretty sure that it is not the religion. If it were the religion then I would follow all the laws not just the few that I actually do. I would believe that the only way to contact God would be by following the rules of the religion and that is not the case. I do as an individual believe that God exists. My choice. For me being Jewish was more of a cultural thing. It had a lot to do with family, chopped liver and chicken soup. I blame society's total lack of tolerance for anything different (and as I have pointed out Jews are no different in that respect) for the lack of harmony that exists. Religion is just one of the hijacked tools used by the lunatics regardless of the title religion.

Religion of course does bring up differences. Religion can also be a tool of great learning and understanding. The thing is do we celebrate our differences or point them out like some sort of disease. I believe that I have the Jewish festivals, Christians have Christian festivals, Muslims have Muslim festivals. It's cool. Most friction between religions is caused by ignorance. The more open the discussion the better. So I decided to post on here some of my experiences. For my children........... I have every intention of teaching them the beauty of the Jewish religion, the richness of Jewish culture, and how to be totally accepting of other people regardless of creed or colour. After that it is up to them.

Today, reading this, I learned more about Jewish society than I have in a lifetime, & I've been entertained whilst doing so. You, along with Red, have that marvellous skill of taking 'photos in your mind & somehow transferring them to paper such that we can all see them. Thank you - I so hope this Diary runs & runs.

I must tell you that several people mentioned this Diary Entry to me last night whilst I was in Luton, everyone's talking about it.

As to the Diet, does doing the Diary help, hinder, or have no effect?

As to the Diet, does doing the Diary help, hinder, or have no effect?

The diary has certainly helped a huge amount. The diet can only work long term if you study why you have behaved in the way you have to the extent of being irrational. So unfortunately to try and find some answers to questions I have been going through the picture books of the mind. The diary has helped letting me share some of the more interesting ones. To know that this waffle is being read by people is unbelievably supportive. That some comment on it even more so.

Also if I have a particularly bad craving session I switch the pc on and make a few notes on any subject. Funny how we forget distraction tactics on ourselves when we use them on our children all the time.

I enjoy all the diaries on here.......the amount you manage to put into the week, Red dogs view of the world (let alone his style which is brilliant). The Luton boys (including Edna) in Vegas. It only confirms what I know........this forum is the best and not just for poker.

So here we are again on Thursday morning looking forward to Fat Night Weigh In and I have 20 mins so I have decided to do a new playlist for the old i pod. Playlists on the ipod have to follow these rules. 15 tracks. One genre. One per band.
Due to all the inner reflection I have been doing my playlist is as follows

Genre - Punk
Requiem by Killing Joke
In a Rut - The Ruts
A Forest - The Cure
Holiday in Cambodia - The Dead Kennedys
Warhead - UK Subs
Suspect Device - Stiff Little Fingers
Emergency - 999
Identity - X Ray Spex
Teenage Kicks - The Undertones
London Calling - The Clash
Anarchy in the UK - The Sex Pistols
Down in the sewer - The Stranglers
Love in a void - Siouxsie and the banshees
Smash it up - The Damned
Ever fallen in love - The Buzzcocks


Now please feel free to put in your own genres and playlists cos I really need to broaden my catalogue and let go of the 70's and all that anger or something.

These days I'm mainly listening to "sweet mother-f*cking acid house country music" (to quote the band).

Alabama3

YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvLB_tcZ4-w

YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3d9-sXrx3o

YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Y4u52__vUY

Love that play-list.

:)up

Okay so i am playing a WSOP step 3 on Stars

one Rock
two sharks both immeadiately to my left
two bombs and three reds

WTF....level3....where is the value in this......oh yes it must be me

Oooh one of the sharks has just eaten himself...you don't ee that on Attenborough

Your stuck in 1978 Snatty (aint no bad thing though).

Get some sweet soul music as an alternative.  ;karabiner;

Name names

Heres a few (of 100s), all old school, 60's & 70's: Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Curtis Mayfield, Edwin Starr, Aretha Franklin, James Brown, The Temptations, The Meters.

You didn't mention Otis...unacceptable to leave him out...just wrong.

Otis; Dock of the Bay
Otis; My Girl
Otis; Georgia.

end of.

The German dwarf speaks sense for a change...go figure.

So today’s the day. How hard was Stratford? I had no idea and it was just as well I didn’t know. My problem was this. I got the summer job with Burtons through my uncle, as you all know, but there was a nagging doubt in the back of my mind, which was did I get on the management training course because of him. Now being twenty and obviously always right, I believed most of the time that I was there as of right and on my own merits. Of course as I look back in the cold light of day it was obvious bollocks and I think subconsciously I knew that, which was why I was looking for a tough store to handle. I had to find out if I was any good!

This finding out malarkey has got me into a lot of scrapes. You know the inner voice that asks you to prove that you can do it. That says stand up to the school bully and give him your best shot so that he leaves you alone. It might have helped if they had also told me to make sure he doesn’t get back up. Or tells you go to Stratford it is your launch pad. How bad can it be?

So there I am in East London. Newly promoted all cocky that I can do the job and that it is only a matter of time before I am managing the flagship store in Oxford Street. I know that stock loss is running at an incredible 10%. So for every £100 we are taking through the till somebody is having it away with a tenner. On arriving in the store I notice there is no fire bolt on the back door. So I buy one. In comes the morning delivery. It gets taken upstairs by two of my boys and sorted out. Jeans are hung on hangers and sized as is the knitwear. All the wrappings are chucked into dustbin liners. The boxes broken down for reuse. The stock gets put out on the sales floor and one of the boys asks me if I will open the backdoor as there is a fire bolt and a padlock on it which weren’t there before.

As I open the first bag of rubbish outside the store I can see the guy visibly paling in front of me and I already know what I am going to find. Sure enough three brand spanking new pairs of Levis going out with the rubbish. Theft is theft and I knew I had no choice but to phone Charlie Eastbourne my area manager. He makes it very clear to me that they will both have to be fired. Great. I have been in the business three hours and twelve minutes I am firing people for the first time in my young life. It feels absolutely vile and I am already two staff down in one of the toughest areas of London. It can’t get any worse.

And then it did. We alleviated the staffing problem by borrowing a chap from the store in Ilford. We had started tidying the store up and merchandising it correctly. Morale was improving really fast but I knew that stealing was still rampant because of the twice daily stock takes and that there was only one way of bringing the figure down. We were going to have to confront the local gangs. The problem with some roads is that having started down them you should just turn around fast and get the hell out. Unfortunately this road was too narrow for turning in. It was go straight on and pray that you come out the other side. The company say that you should not confront shoplifters. The company say that stock loss should be 0.66%. The company has idiots who have never worked in a store coming up with this stuff.

I am standing in the middle of the sales floor and this truly big geezer walks in. Without pausing he walks straight up to me grabs the front of my jacket whips out a knife, sticks it under my chin and says “I am going to nick your fuckin jeans”. So what flashes through my mind at this point. Is it “oh my word he is going to kill me?” Is it “why am I doing this?” No what I am thinking is two things. Firstly I think “I wonder what it says in the managers handbook for this” and then an even better thought “How do I stop myself bleeding on the stock”.

 In honesty I didn’t have time to be scared it just happened so fast. Purely by luck I came out with “Go ahead”. Big geezer looks at me quizzically but then puts his knife away bends down and picks up two armfuls of jeans. This was his first mistake, no knife, and arms occupied. I pick up the now empty metal rail and before he has taken a step give him a gentle tap across the knees. Well just hard enough to make him drop the jeans and fall over. I explain to him calmly that I have nothing personal against him but I would like him to go elsewhere to conduct his activities whilst he is telling me how he is going to sue me for actual bodily harm. He may actually have been crying. When I got home that night I paced. I paced for a long time. I couldn’t settle. What the bloody hell was I thinking, taking on a bloke with a knife. The problem is…. in moments of high stress one rarely thinks, one purely reacts. Stupid stupid stupid.

Unfortunately this was the first incident in six months of hell. Broken windows. People waiting outside the backdoor with baseball bats, break ins the lot. We had it all. The local police left me with incident reports that I filled in and then took down to the station. I just wouldn’t leave the store. I paced round the store all day and I paced round the flat all night. I was a wreck. Then all of a sudden it all went quiet. Right after this incident.

I am standing near the front of the store and look back at the security mirror in the opposite corner. I can see a youth of about fourteen crawling and yes I do mean crawling behind the racks to the jeans run. I move very slowly to the other side of the front door knowing that this is where he is going to come out. Sure enough matey crawls round the corner. I tell him to stand up. I shake him until the jeans fall out from his coat and I do one small compassionate thing. I give him a lecture and let him go. I have no idea why I let him go and in light of what I did on my first day it is outright hypocrisy. But there you go sometimes you do things differently.

I thought no more about it and that Saturday was in my usual position behind the till packing clothes for customers. I liked it behind the counter as I could see what my whole team were doing and I got to chat to the punters…..oh and make sure nobody was taking from the till. Later on we found out who was taking from the till but that is a very long story which I keep to myself. Anyway there I am behind the counter and this huge bloke walks in. I mean if big geezer was big this bloke absolutely blocked the sun out. He walks up to the counter and says “I want to talk to you” in a voice that could move mountains. I shat myself. No other words for it. Everything that had gone before had been fairly spontaneous. This was definitely not going to be and I was scared. I asked him if he would mind walking to the back of the store with me just to get him somewhere quieter. I was praying. I stopped and turned to him expecting a severe smacking and he smiled and said “you caught my kid brother nicking jeans in here and didn’t shop him. You will have no more problems!!” and with that he walks out. There is a GOD!!!!!! Thank you!!! I honestly had no idea who this bloke was or the family or how they managed to do it but I had no more problems. In the three and a half years that I was in the store we took sales from 300k to over a million. We took stock loss from 10% to one per cent. It is my crowning achievement as a manager not because of the numbers but because of the person I became to get through to the other side. When Oxford Street came up for a new manager I was told to apply. I left Burtons at that point with nothing left to prove.

And so the challenges go on. Let’s start with the Wii Fit. I can now jog for around 10 minutes without my knees seizing up. I do lots of balancing work. Stepping. Yoga. I have done at least half an hour every day and Adam owns our latest game table tennis……might have to hide it as he is just too good.

The diet had a crisis moment this week. As you know week three became known as week of the bagel but it was okay because we talked it through at fat club and I knew what to do if it happened again. Well it happened again.

A little background might be helpful. I was playing in the Macau final on Blonde on Sunday night. It was going well. I had cracked aces with four six and I was in the zone. There are two seats and money back from third to twelfth. We are down to the last three and at that moment the poker gods let me know it was not going to be my night. Ace eight into ace king. Ace ten into ace king. Just to finish off low stacked queen ten into kings and that was that. Would I or should I have played the hands any differently. Well after tossing and turning from one thirty until three twenty five I decided to get up and have some chollah (plaited loaf to you dear) toasted. I go downstairs. All I can think is carbs baby. Got to have them. Then just at the last moment I manage to stop myself. What am I feeling? Craving or hunger? Okay this time it is hunger. So I have half of Mondays peanut bar with loads of water. All the time I am thinking no need for bread. Twenty five pounds is proof of that and fully satisfied go to bed. By the way I wouldn’t have played the hands any differently.

This week’s music on the way to fat club needs to be something euphoric. The challenge of the carb has been beaten for another week. I have made pack lunches for the kids. Sat out to dinner with friends again. Went to the theatre with Rachel to see Grease and watched Anne Marie and Rachel eat ice cream without any feeling of need or want. Didn’t take Adam as he was out at his new girlfriends house. Indeed a euphoric week so on goes Blondie blasting out Atomic so loud my ears are still ringing. This week we lost seven pounds. That is a total of thirty two pounds. How good do I feel? Well pretty good actually and even more so after stopping at the petrol station for a bottle of water and whilst standing in the queue feeling absolutely no desire for any of the large array of confectionary on display. This is the man who only four weeks ago would have happily picked up a KitKat, Twix, Marathon and a pack of Opal Fruits......just because they call them Snickers and Starbust doesn’t mean I have to. Oh and by the way I would have scoffed the lot whilst watching some old tut on the television

Hmm better start thinking about next week. There is still so much ground we can cover and so much weight to lose. If there have been any topics that have caught your eye that you would like me to do some more about please do not hesitate to post. Otherwise maybe we should go right back in time to the school years. They are quite funny particularly when I managed to launch a half brick at the deputy headmasters head.

Until then be nice to your kids and if you don’t have any be nice to someone else’s.

Just play the entire "Otis Blue" album.

Great post,

Thanks Snat.  ;hattip;

yep, tis a classic.

Keep the stories coming Snatty, its all good

Absolutely fantastic post Phil, inspired even.

Phil, that's, to me, your best Post yet. True-Life adventure, psychology, bravado, business talk, & Fat Club. You could not make this stuff up.

Where have you been hiding this superb writing skill all this time?

Look, you keep writing this Diary, or I'll send round a box of fresh bagels. Get my drift?

What topics would I like to hear more of? Your business career. Very impressed with the way you went about sorting out that Store. Disappointed you only got Stock Loss/"wastage" down to 1% - the Company Target was 0.66%. Do try harder, OK?

Oh, & well done - 32lbs, that's the equivelant of say, 16 bags of sugar you were carrying around that you don't have to carry now. You must be well proud of yourself.

What a stonking post Phil. Well done.

fantastic news on the weightloss phil keep it up mate. :)up

didnt think it was possible for you to waffle on in type more than you can actually speak at the table but you managed it mate lol.

i for 1 never got bored sitting at the table listening to your non stop jabba and the same applies to this wonderful thread

 ;applause; ;applause;

When we returned from the pub last night, I checked the posts on Blonde.  Saw this one and decided I'd read it in the morning as I wanted to give it my full attention.  1:30am, after a couple, running poker hands through your head was not the time.  Blimey!  Great post and already can't wait for the next one!!! 

You're doing a brilliant job with your weight loss and this diary.  Thanks for sharing the lot with us!  xx

Top post Snatty..well done on the weightloss as well, 32 pounds is very impressive indeed.

To all those who post support I thank you . Although corny it really does mean something. I would guess a little like the crowd at a marathon............hmm  diary of a marathon runner..........no, no, no.

"Although corny it really does mean something."

You think that's bad? I was going to post,  "32 lbs Phil? Now you're Cooklin" 

You'll be pleased to know that I thought better of it.

::)

Great stuff Snats.

Well at school I was of course a dead loss at English up to and including my English literature O level. Having perused the entire English paper I realised that I was in serious trouble. Please answer one question from each section. Sections one and two no problem but section three was a mare. The choice of doing a critique on Romeo and Juliet, couldn't stand Shakespeare on account of the fact if he was so funny why did I have to have the jokes explained to me. I mean do you think Eddie Murphy has to go on stage with somebody alongside to explain the humour. I think not.

Sorry mini rant....okay so it was Shakespeare or compare ten Ted Hughes poems. Bugger I only know five and as regards The Pig, I only knew the first line....The pig lay on the barrow dead. To be honest once I knew the pig was dead I kind of lost interest in the rest of the story. Trout on the other hand was my kind of poem. "One jammed its gills past the others gullet".....something like that anyway. It was a long time ago and I have not re-looked at that poem since.

So rubbish at English then and no desire to write until one day I see an advert in a publication that I regularly read but only in the winter asking for people to write of their experiences. So I wrote a piece and it appeared in here. I was amazed. It was not altered in anyway other than making it fit the page.

that made me laugh out loud

It was great to see you last night Phil.  I have to say despite reading that you had lost so much weight, I was still amazed at the really noticible difference in such a short space of time.  What surprised me even more was how fantastically healthy you looked.  I suppose I kind of expected with not eating and the quick weight loss that you would look somehow ill and haggard but the opposite is true - I have never seen you looking so well. 

I'm so proud of you!  Keep up the good work, but make sure you leave a teensy bit of padding there for hugs :) xxx

Okay I have tried scanning the image so you can share the thrill of seeing my name in the matchday programme........and let's be honest it was the only way I was going to appear. I failed. Anyway what I wrote was as follows

My  Club
As I approach my fortieth year, I find myself reflecting more and more on the pleasure it has been to be a supporter of the Tigers for the past thirty years.
From   my   earliest   memories   in   the seventies of calling Fylde, Flyde or of helping change the score on the old scoreboard at the Welford Road end. Through the times when my father would shout out "you are rubbish Matthews" a player to go   on   and   make   more appearances for the Tigers than any other. Sitting in the Crumbie stand with my  backside  on  one seat  leaning with  my back on the one behind and my feet on the one in front.

Then the magic of the cup years getting drunk on the school trips to Twickenham, the move where Cusworth placed the ball on the floor for the man on the Scissors to pick up and more recently the European matches, which truly capture what rugby supporting, is about for me.

These trips offer the opportunity to immerse yourself in a different culture, to   be  in the minority of Supporters  and yet still believe that the Tigers will prevail. Yes there will be disappointments along the way such as being stuck in Llanelli after losing the group match last year but the highs are so high that they more than make up for it. Standing at the Parc des Princes crying with joy after we beat Stade Francais and to see all those miserable Frenchmen trying to take a gut wrenching loss gracefully. Classic.

And so to this weekend as I sit at my desk unable to do my work for thinking about the trip to Beziers, going selfishly on my own with no wife and no kids, going into the unknown hoping the team play well but knowing the wine will be good as will the food as will the company. At worst we will lose the game and I will suffer a   huge hangover at  best yet another memory to file with all the classic moments of supporting the Tigers over the last thirty years.

My club over the past 30 years have gone from not very good to exceptional and in the last five years have played at a level that I could only dream of when we  were getting our ritual stuffing by Coventry. I'd just like to say thank you.

By Phil Cooklin aged 39 and 3/4

If you would like to write My Club for
one of our forthcoming programmes
email fans@tigers.co.uk or write
to My Club, Leicester Tigers, Aylestone Road, Leicester. LEz ?TR


Wow in the matchday programme verbatim. I knew I had created something that people liked. Well my Mum and Dad anyway so I vowed I would use this special gift and create something to read. It's only taken another six years but for some reason the course has made want to write stuff down and for some reason some of you want to read it.

Now on the professional front I have to be a little bit careful as for the last fifteen years I have been selling into the countries major electrical retailers. If I start writing about them I may be out of a job and seeing as the book hasn't been published yet, actually it has been written, that may not be wise.....I may be able to find something though.

It was lovely seeing you Ding Richard and Nina and others........I do feel quite well. The Wii definitely helps as did your lovely post......My word that Matt's a lucky boy or monkey or something.

i have some interest in health and fitness but this makes me want to go out and eat a few big macs

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/13/world/asia/13fat.html?_r=1&oref=slogin (http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/13/world/asia/13fat.html?_r=1&oref=slogin)

33.5 inches? unreal, they are barmy

Very very scary....one thing to do it cos you want to. Quite another because you have to.

sumo wrestling will never be the same again

 http://uk.news.yahoo.com/itn/20080625/tuk-nhs-approval-for-weight-loss-drug-dba1618.html


So it is open season on photos of lardy arses again. Can't say I neccessarily agree with the use of drugs but it is a particularly sensitive area. Not all people can face up to their situation and want to change it. Long term success IMHO would suggest this is vital and drugs will just mask the patterns that cause the eating disorder.............In the meantime there does seem to be an adhoc competition going on as to which news media can show the largest bottom. The BBC were winning last I looked. Funny this is a story to develop skinny people and not a skinny person in sight. Face up to it skinny people you just aint news

Of course the best years of your life are those spent at school. Hang on just a moment the best years of your life are spent at school doing what? Homework, I think not. Cross country I think you must be having a laugh. Latin…….ooh Latin. Or French.

Okay so it must be the environment that is good. You know all chaps together. Learn together, eat together go to detention together, become bullies or victims together. The problem is that as time passes, as with every painful or happy event in life, the pain or joy softens, you don’t forget what happened but somehow it is not as deep a wound as it once was or in fact as great a pleasure. So it is with school.

Mayflower junior school which I attended from the age of seven to eleven was a small lovely primary school. We had lots of laughs, all lived in the area and these days truly were special if you can ignore the fact that I was called a yid for the first time. As you know the character involved was summarily dealt with. I arrived as a little seven year old boy but I had two big sisters in the school already one two years older than me and the other three. Which meant she was in what we now call year six. My sisters are fab. I have three in total and we always look after each other regardless. So my progress through school is serene. I am a top 5 student. Always come second to Michelle Duff at speech day, Michelle being one of those girls that I could not have beaten even if I had wanted to on account of her being every teachers pet and damn gorgeous to boot.

The two major things that happened at Mayflower though were these.
Firstly I realised I was rubbish at sport. Oh I tried hard mind you but not in my wildest dreams could I beat a man playing football like Tinker could. He was one of my best mates at school and lived three doors down from me on Roundhill Road. In the hundred metres I came three from last and hear me now, I was flat out. The problem was I really wanted to play for the school football team. So I decided I needed a special talent. In 1973 Norman Hunter played for Leeds 43 times and didn’t score a goal. In fact he played 540 games for Leeds and only scored 18 goals. I had at this time no real football affiliation. Rugby was my game even then. Now Norman Hunter had a special talent and even then as a ten year old boy I could see it. When he tackled somebody they remained tackled, totally and utterly. He frequently got there late so I would have no problem with that part of the plan on account of my supreme athletic ability. In fact it was a nailed on certainty that I was going to get there late. The big question was when I got there was I tough enough to actually go clattering in. Oh well only one way to find out.

So morning playtime kick about. Jumpers for goalposts.  The score six, two to them. The bell goes for the end of break. The instant call of next goal wins goes up from all players. So just for the uninitiated this means that regardless of the score at the time whichever team scores the next goal will win the game. In fact the funniest thing I have ever seen or heard at a football match revolved around that phrase. West Ham versus Luton. The semi final of the Littlewoods cup first leg at Upton Park. West Ham have played absolutely brilliantly. They are losing  two nil at home to Luton. Two nil at home to Luton for petes sake. A corner a minute into injury time at the end of the match. A sudden lull in the noise level and out of nowhere some kid shouts out “next goal wins”. Everyone cracks up including the players.

Okay so the call goes up next goal wins and Tinker is running towards me. Bugger it he is my mate I can’t just hack him down on the playground but I’ve got to know. So in I slide taking Tinker, the ball, my trousers and most of the skin off my right knee and elbow. It took a while for the dust to settle and it took a good while longer before Tinks would speak to me again. It also hurt like buggery and I knew tears would not do. By a supreme effort and the use of lying with my face on my sleeve I managed to control myself before standing up. Tinks was shaken but just about okay. He had lost a bit of skin off the hands. Everybody else was just standing and watching. I got in the team and had to give up the descant recorder……Mrs. Fox the music teacher never forgave me.

Now it just so happened that we had a match against Linden. We hated Linden as they were our local rivals. Of course we didn’t actually know anybody who went to Linden but we hated them anyway. Oh and by the way they were better than us at football. So we managed by some miracle to draw two - two. We are walking across Evington park after the game. Tinker, me and a couple of others. Three Linden kids appear from round the side of the local toilets. You know even at this age you are aware that it is going to go off in an explosive ten year old way. We all start talking amongst ourselves how we are going to fight because there are four of us and only three of them. So I get ready to stand and fight which suits me because I cannot run anyway. When the two groups are about twenty yards apart they run towards us and to a man as I turned to stand and fight my mates all ran away. Hmm only superficial damage. You know bloody nose a few bruises, sports kit up a tree and that is going to need explaining to parents. After they tired of kicking me which probably wasn’t that long but felt like forever plus a bit, they left. This time I was crying. Not because of the bruises so much but because of the shock of my mates just running off. Tinks came back though and helped me get my stuff out of the tree. Good man that tinker. From this story I learned that you should not worry what other people say that they are going to do. Do what you need to do as a person.

The second major event was of course the eleven plus. The eleven plus was the old system of deciding where you went to school next. If you passed you had the choice of Wyggeston Boys Grammar School, City Boys, Alderman Newtons and one other that I just can’t recall. Dad and all of his brothers had gone to Wyggeston Boys. It was decided that I was going to Wyggeston Boys end of story. Hang on a sec don’t I have a say in this? Apparently not. Not only do I not have a say but it is not even a discussion topic. Would I have chosen Wyggeston if it had been my choice I do not know. Not to have a say in the matter bruised my little fragile ego a tad.

So we had months and months of practice tests. Well maybe a few weeks anyway but you know at ten it feels like months and months and everybody is telling us it does not matter what we get but we all know it does. We file in for the tests. The Maths test is a belter and I know I have done well. You see maths is easy to me as the answer is either right or wrong and I can just spot a wrong number. Well Dave Orton on my right can’t. Not his fault he just can’t. So all through the test I am writing the answers large on my rough sheet and moving to the side so he can see. Dave please stop being so obvious it just will not do to get caught. Somehow we both get through the exam undetected.

The day of the results is a bad one because some get what they want and some do not. For some of those that do not it is an anxious time working out where they will go next. For some it is absolutely too much as they burst into tears due to the pressure they have been under. Luckily my temperament is one that demands being so laid back as to be almost horizontal when it comes to exams. I pass and am off to Wyggeston along with some but not all of my mates. Dave is going but sadly not Tinker. We did however meet up again many years later due to us having girlfriends that were best mates………a small but funny world really.

So onto the weight loss. This week was fine but on Monday I suffered some sort of depression. Friday, Saturday and Sunday had gone fine. I ventured back up to the G on Sunday to play in the £100. Yeah yeah I know I promised not to but what could I do. I fancied a game and Luton is home venue. Played the tournament incredibly poorly and totally deserved what I got which was knocked out early. Not to worry though because the cash table beckoned. Normally I do not play cash but this table looked okay so I just pulled a small amount of cash and played. Seeing Sofe again was lovely and we just laughed our way through the evening and of course as is often the way with these things the more we laughed the more we won. Get to bed about 1.45am. Wake up Monday just feeling down. Can’t work out why. Feels like it is work related but it might have been because I played Sunday. Not sure need to analyse the whole experience in a couple of days.

Any way the Wii took another hammering this week but the weight measurement is going up and down. It does not matter as the only weigh in that matters is the one on Thursday. This week though has started the introduction of the doubting Thomas. So named because of Thomas theApostle, who doubted the ressurection of Jesus and demanded to feel Jesus' wounds before being convinced John 20:24 – 29. You know the crew. Well my mate lost four stone on lighter life but put it all back on. Now I really want to hear this. I mean I spent Sunday clearing out my wardrobe and even then I had kept some of the big sized clothes just in case. I am after all a realist about this whole jaunt. Now it would appear accordint to more than one source I was going to need them.

But will I? My biggest fear in all of this is not now but how to train myself to eat properly when I come off abstinence. I do not want to go back ever. My goal is not to get to a certain weight. My goal is to sort my head out so that I do not eat in the abnormal way that I used to. I still get the occassional craving but I expect that. People who set a weight or time goal I think are heading into trouble. They reach the weight and suddenly think they have achieved. I will only have achieved if I change my lifestyle on a permanent basis. Maybe this is a bigger challenge but I am absolutely convinced that down this path lay success.

And so to fat club. I am being soothed by the album Otis Blue this week. What a great album and many thanks for the reccomendation. Obviously I know a number of the songs but it is just nice to listen to them and some that I do not know. And then all of a sudden I change my mind. Each week has had music that seems to have some basis in anger……Hmm Green Day blasting out Jesus of Suburbia would seem to do……..and indeed it does.
Weight loss this week is a stonking five pounds and total weight loss is 37 pounds. I feel really well and in control of major bits of my life. At least right at this point I know that any emotion I am feeling is my own and not brought on by a change in insulin levels or food types. It helps when trying to work them all out.

Now I am aware that this post is a bit on the long side and I could do with some audience participation as to whether it is too long or not please. Next week I am afraid there is no weigh in on Thursday as I will be in Germany. I will post a few stories anyway just for good measure and we can move onto Wyggeston, rugby, beer, girls and Snotty Crabtree.

Until next week say something nice to your partner out of the blue just because you can.

my fav thread at mo. wp nh carry on snatty

another great post Phil.  Too long?  Never!

 ;iagree; Keep it up Snatty  :)up

xx

Another tremendous post Phil, your writing just flows. I can't wait for the next installment.

This thread is useless without pictures of Michelle Duff. :)

Great thread, always a pleasure to read and now it feels like I know you a bit even though we have never met. Congrats on the weight loss and fingers crossed you can change your lifestyle to keep your weight down.

What she said.

Hell, even I'll give you kisses if you keep posting wonderful stuff like this. (OK maybe not kisses but a fruit drink of some sort at the next bB)

I was so in love but I was spurned for somebody cooler......funny how trends start

we've all been there.  I spent many a night several years ago longing for someone who didnt love me back (happy to get his end away though obviously).  Love (or rather infatuation) does funny things to the head - it makes us think we can't possibly live without this person who doesn't love us back - pride and self-respect goes out the window.  Michelle Duff and Simon Cooper (for that is the adonis' name) are the losers in the long run!

you got the last laugh mate

http://www.michelleduff.ca/webpages/michellebench.html

I LOLd.

And he keeps knocking down the pounds.  Well done that man!!! 

I use to play Varsity Basketball for my high school.  I was ok, but others on the team were better.  While working to improve my overall game, I was the 'take out' girl.  If someone on the other team was causing us hassle, I was brought in to 'take em out.'  And that's what I did...for 2 years. 

Suddenly I was good enough to start, because I could actually play.  During one match we were faced with Amazon chicks.  I swear.  They were HUGE and towered over us.  My coach asked me to 'take one out' but I came up with another plan.  If you can't score by going up with them, then go under them.  By the time they realised what we were at, the ball was in the net...and I didn't have to worry about the rest of their team kicking my backside for 'taking her out'.  I was offered a full college scholarship thanks to that game.  Of course, I had other plans...and college wasn't part of them. 
         
Enjoy your trip to Germany!!!   

Me too........total quality

Snat - superb! You are so eloquent in the written word. As opposed to the spoken word....

I just loved those school memories. 11+ exam - ouch - I failed mine, big time.

Very unlucky in the Five-O last night. I was not sure if "Chompy-IMO was "the" Chompy, so had to restrict my comments on him.....

Have a safe trip to Germany bud.

Now, I need to know about Snotty Crabtree. Male, or Female, for starters.

I've been incredibly busy this last week, & ditto next week, so I'm not on blonde as much as I want right now, but I just want to say, while I have a moment - thank you for bringing us this Diary. You, & Red's Diary ditto, have ensured I'm always eager to open the blonde Forum up. You are both a breath of fresh air to this site, & I'm immensely grateful.

As an odd aside, I always leave my favourite things until last. When eating, the potatoes are last, when doing e-Mails, I do the friendly ones last, & when I open blonde, I read all the other threads first, then I go get a cuppa, "job done" sort of thing, & immerse myself in you & Reds Diary - it's a kind of reward for me, a relaxing break, & it helps me see things in better perspecticve - as to life, & as to blonde, where, at times, the "mood", & undignified displays of unrestrained anger make me very depressed & morose. A visit to "Vagueness" or "Fat Boy" always leaves me with a wonderful sense of contentment. You two are both proper men.

Well done, & thank you.

Well said that man.. :goodpost:

Oh my word I have just reread what I promised at the end of last weeks instalment and it is way way too ambitious for one instalment so just to set your taste buds straight today we will cover off Wyggeston the school, Mr. Crowley the French master and as a special bonus topic the infamous tuck shop hag……..young boys are so horrible. Snotty Crabtree and others are going to have to wait for another time but there is plenty of time and much to write about.

So first day at Wyggeston and I have to tell you I am massively excited. The blazer for a start is black with a badge…..how cool is that. I mean we even had to go to a special shop to get all the clothes. I walk into the school and go to the Great Hall. There seemed to be thousands of people and I remember the stark feeling of insecurity of going from the biggest in the school to being the smallest. A little like Harry Potter we are all put into houses. The houses are Kingdom, Johnson, Huntingdon and Went. Huntingdon had the reputation of always winning all the sporting events and everything else for that matter.

Now based on my fathers and uncles exploits I am placed into Huntingdon. Well somebody is going to be disappointed aren’t they? Green and white hooped rugby shirt, and sure enough most of the Neanderthal rugby types seem to end up in the same room. Lines are being drawn and much posturing is going on. You know the kind of thing….”you can’t sit there because you didn’t go to Overdale!!”. We are put into alpahabetical order by Miss Whitely regardless of where we went to school. We are given a timetable to fill out and fill it out it we do. My word this looks like a lot of work….and what the hell does Labore et Honore mean on the front. Latin. I don’t know Latin. I barely know English. I later find it means work and honour and soon gets changed on the front of my timetable to “desidiosus est magis fun” which roughly means lazy is more fun. So the day breaks down into seven periods. Two in the morning to first break. Then two to lunch. And then three in the afternoon. So we do rules and timetable to first break. We are taught the importance of tradition. How lucky we are to be at the school. The importance of the school motto………and then it is first break. We pile out of the Lower school block and go out on the school playing fields at which point we are smartly surrounded by the rest of the school and shown just how important tradition is.

The quaint tradition of throwing the first years down the bank was in full cry. My word sharp grass bank about eight foot high and almost vertical and you were thrown pushed or whatever down it. I just let it happen. I already knew at age eleven that there was a time and a place. Can’t beat a bit of tradition. Some fought of course. Big mistake as they definitely got the worst of it. Some tried to run down the bank and a few made it but many more did not. Oh dear the bottom of the bank is carnage. The bell goes to signify the end of break and we go back inside for more indoctrination.
Lunch time arrives and we have lunch and then go off to explore the school. What a big place it is especially after your little primary school. Anyway boys being boys it doesn’t take long to work out that there is a tuck shop. So we go into this separate building with a blue door next to the sports pavilion. We stand in line and wait to be served by this unbelievably scary woman who got named the tuck shop hag. Now she had been a young woman in my fathers day and that was a long time ago and according to him she wasn’t very pleasant then. Well let me tell you right now time had not treated her well. She could have taken the place of one of the baddies in Lord of the Rings and not needed any make up to do so. She was short and talked in the manner of a Rottweiler and nobody in that queue looked comfortable regardless of year.

Now the tuck shop hag got used in one of the funniest tricks we played that year. A group of us had gone into buy chewy lollies. Now these normally had a long stick and cost 5p. Tremendous value. Unfortunately when we got to the front of the queue on this day the lollies only had short sticks. Cookaburra as he was known and no it is not me…..my nickname was Sid…. asked very politely excuse me “Do you have any with long sticks?”………”No I don’t. These have got short sticks so I am only charging 4p”. Oh this is just too good an opportunity to miss. So one by one six of us go up and ask the same question. By the time the sixth one has got there the hag has reached ballistic. She is on the very edge of tumbling…………now what we need is a victim………I spy with my little eye somebody called Jason. “ Hey Jason come here!” and Jason saunters over for he is the sauntering type and therefore deserves all he gets for trying to be cool.
“Listen mate the Hag has got lollipops with short sticks and what you need to do is ask her if she has any with long sticks”. In saunters Jason and the next thing we know he comes flying out screaming and holding his head. She had only gone and smacked him with the broom. I still laugh now as I see his startled expression in my minds eye.

I digress as is my way in this diary. Back to the first day. After lunch we have our first period. French. Great a new language. I really fancy this. In walks Mr. Crowley. We all stand because that is what you do. It is boiling. I have been chucked down a bank I have been scared witless by the tuck shop hag and I am nowhere near the window. I put my hand up. Now Mr. Crowley looked like an older version of somebody who was or had been a member of the Hitler youth. Clipped moustache and everything neatly pressed.

He looked down his nose at me and said “oui” in a particularly clipped voice. “Sir can I please take my blazer off?” as you were not allowed remove them without permission. He booms back “EN FRANCAIS! EN FRANCAIS”. Great been in the school less than a day and I am being shouted at in a language that I do not understand. I am forced to stand up in my blazer and spend the next forty minutes being humiliated. Oh what fun. Well let me tell you it bloody well wasn’t and it put me off the language for a very long time. What the miserable git was looking for was “puis je enlever ma veste s'il vous plait monsieur?” and I still know it now because I wrote it out fifty times that evening. It took seven long years until I got my own back but I did in the end and it involved his car door locks a willing accomplice, some naughty mags and some superglue……I leave the rest to your imagination.

And there I leave dear old school for another week. A shorter post this week as I am absolutely knackered from a long meeting today and I have another tomorrow. So onto the diet. Well onwards and upwards. No weigh in today as I am in Krefeld which is kind of like the West Midlands in that it is heavily industrial. I caught the Air Berlin flight. Ah Air Berlin have very sexy stewardesses and treat you so nicely it makes you forget that you only paid £36 plus taxes for your flight. Budget airlines as they should be. Well it was a great flight for this one reason alone. I not only did my seatbelt up but I had to tighten it a bit. Now I always stay at the Tryp when I am in Krefeld as it is fifty yards from the office. My room always has a bottle of water and two packets of crisps in it. The water is gone but not the crisps. I have only now to do my press up challenge, have a shower and go to bed and so I wish you night night.

Please remember the following. The only person who got all his work done by Friday was Robinson Crusoe.

Merci

urgh - Mr French teacher sounds awful.  Reminds me of a time in primary school.  I was 8 and we had another teacher covering our class because our form tutor was sick (this was at the age where the form tutor taught all subjects).  We were all told to quietly work through the next chapter in our maths books.  Now I was a bit of a swot in those days and whizzed through the chapter, finishing long before the rest of the class.  I put my hand up and the teacher came over.  I told her I'd finished, and was there something else I could be getting on with?  'finished!?!?!' she boomed, picking up my workbook to check.  'so you want something else to do, do you?  Write me an essay on the use and effectiveness of discipline in primary schools' and stomped back to her desk.  That was me out of her depth, I think that was the first time I had every heard the work 'essay', and I didn't really understand the rest of the question (but darent ask for clarificatin).  I spent the rest of the class struggling to put words to paper other than writing my name, the date, and the heading.  The rest of the class, understandably, kept schtum when they'd finished the chapter and twiddled their thumbs instead.  By the time the bell went indicating luchtime I'd still not written much, and what I had probably made no sense.  I was also close to tears.  The teacher came to collect my essay and I told her, shaking, I hadn't been able to do it.  I was then instructed to spend my lunch break in detention (I didn't know what that was until that day either!) until it was finished to her satisfaction.

I can remember that day like it was yesterday - I think it's the first time I realised how unfair life could be.  In hindsight I think I just pissed the teacher off because she was obviously hoping for a nice easy session sitting at the front of the classroom filing her nails whilst the kids just got on with their work. 

So as you rejoin me I am being held upside down by my ankles. There is one small problem with this in that I am being held out of the window two storeys up. You see I have this massive problem. It is a problem I still have. I sometimes just can’t help myself. I see the incident I think a line and without thinking out it pops with exquisite timing leaving a large proportion smiling and somebody with a rueful look on their face or hatred in their eyes.

On this occasion my target was one of the rugby team. We are still in the first year and I am struggling to fit in. I am just different. Chubby. Not very sporting. Not made to feel very bright oh and based on never hiding my religion everybody knows I am Jewish. The one weapon I have is humour but the problem with all weapons is that if you do not handle them with care then they tend to blow up in your face. On this occasion the captain of the year rugby team was insulting me incessantly. “Oi chubby why don’t you go back to where you came from!” that sort of thing. Now I came from my mother who gave birth to me at the St. Francis hospital on London road and there was no way I was going back into the womb no matter how big the bully was. So of course I walked away and kept my mouth shut like any normal person. Of course I did. Only I didn’t. No I came up with the aged 11 classic of “Listen Mark what gives you the right to insult me when it is perfectly obvious to all of us that your mother is still cutting your hair, you can even see the where the handles of the bowl were”. So instant laughter. Then I make mistake number two. I turn round. Next thing I know three of them have grabbed me and I am hanging upside down outside the window which is where you find me.

Unusually at this point I realised I was not afraid. No not me I was working out how to miss the wall and land somewhere that wouldn’t kill me. Quite by chance a prefect came in at this point and all of a sudden I am hauled back in and I am not going to say a word. Mark had been picking on me for most of the year. It had not been much fun. I wasn’t a member of a group see. I mean unfortunately there wasn’t a smart arses unite group. There was rugby. There was drama. A fervent bible group. Anyway things reached a head the first week of year 2 when Mark started on me. I just lost it and I hit him. There was a full years hatred in that punch. There was pain and frustration. I hit him so hard in the stomach I felt him rise into the air……….he invited me into the rugby team. I accepted.

Now I had a group. I was fat and slow so I went straight into the front row. If I had realised just how much fun it was going to be I would have joined up straight away. The front row is just like being the Norman Hunter of a rugby team. You learn all the dark arts of intimidation. Sticking your thumb up the other props armpit to cause him discomfort. Biting ears. Head butting. Dropping the scrum to ensure your opposite number gets a mouthful of mud and my favourite which I called the champagne cork. To do this the whole front row had to work in unison. We would pack down slightly lower than our opponents at the scrum (if you know nothing about rugby, just nod intelligently here). When the ball came in the shove would come on and we would leverage their front row so that their heads pointed to the floor and their feet were off the ground. We stopped being able to do this as time went on and we all got bigger. At the time though it was tremendously dangerous and therefore quite good sport.

Anyway eventually I graduated to the position of hooker. The position of true nobility. Peter Wheeler, Bobby Windsor, Phil Cooklin  great men of true grit and indomitable spirit. Well the first two were. Me. I was rubbish but I tried hard as always and the humour was apparently appreciated by the team. Anyway there was a big cup game. It was the start of our successful run to the under 16 cup. We were going to play Oadby Beauchamp a local comprehensive. We know we should win as they are better known for their football team. In the changing room all I can here is the voice of a big, ginger haired lad telling his team how we were all a load soft grammar school shit’s and how we would crumple if they went in hard and lots of other macho nonsense.

Now I may have been rubbish but even I used to get pumped for a game. It generally took me a couple of hours to calm down after I came off the pitch. I was angry as I ran out. We kicked off. Their player dropped the ball. A scrum was called. There I am opposite Mr. Gobby………thank you lord I love you. So for the next sixty minutes as that was as long as he lasted I show him just how soft we are as a team and let me tell you I enjoyed every minute of it. Not very noble I know but honestly I absolutely loved taking this kid to bits. This was a defining moment in my life and I knew it then and I know it now. I realised that I enjoyed inflicting pain. I had also found out by now that I could stomach a fair amount of pain for a bloke (women can stomach a load more). Before all you deviants start on the sexual connotations I am incredibly boring as regards sexuality.

As I sit here in Dusseldorf Airport typing away because it takes my mind off the fact that I am not eating my normal pre flight steak it is clear that the reason I like poker so much is this giving and receiving of pain. I mean we all know that somebody is going to get lucky against us and it is going to hurt but we also know that we are going to do it to somebody else and this is going to hurt them. I mean poker is one big brawl with everybody having different fighting styles. Some people like to throw lots and lots of jabs looking for the blow that will knock you out but always active. Strangely Michigan Jeff springs to mind, a player I consider to be one of the best on the circuit. Not only does he have tremendous game but he is a tremendous man as well. Others wait and wait looking for the knockout blow when you are least expecting it. Step forward Tighty and Red. When you mess with these prize fighters you know you are likely to get a bloody nose. Also tremendous company at the table and away from it. Then there are the tricky fighters like Lallit truly difficult to read particularly if there is a Jack on the flop. On top of that there are lady fighters as well and some of those are truly difficult at the table and they hate losing. I still remember Claws face at BB3 when she got knocked out. Then there are truly scary fighters who can cut it all ways like 77 Dave………if that don’t get me room and board in Vegas nothing will. All these fighters are going for it at the same time bound to be bloodshed.

What type of fighter am I? The worst kind for bankroll management because I don’t mind too much getting hit. If  I play for a long time I get a little punch drunk and get involved when I should be bobbing and weaving. All of this I do with an incessant stream of rubbish being uttered from my mouth. So difficult to concentrate if you are laughing. During festival events I have been told to shut up but I do not care. I love the game though. The violence. The carnage. I get it wrong lots but just occasionally I get it right. When you get it right it just feels the best. The only thing I hate at the table is one player being disrespectful to another. There is no excuse. All people pay to enter and they all have a right to play in whatever way they choose.

So rugby at school helped define my poker style as did Snotty Crabtree. You see the best description I have seen of poker is that used for war. It goes “hours of boredom, moments of terror”.  Now Snotty Crabtrees lessons were absolutely excruciatingly mind numbingly boring. They were far worse than Mr. Reeves’ Latin lessons and I used to fall asleep in those as they followed on from swimming. Snotty was from the old school of education and he had been called Snotty since my uncles day…………ah they are just calling the flight. Thank you for helping me through this moment of craving. More next week.

Wow, Snatty when you post you don't half tell a story...top stuff.

Funny how we still blame ourselves for the teachers inadequacies. There were so many teachers at Wyggeston who were out and out characters..........a thick vein of story telling I am afraid.

Great read phil and much respect for your on going fight.....good luck..think ur be fine

Keep up the good work Phil.

Someone on Blonde before was trying to lose wait and they had a sliderule at the bottom of each post which should how much they were losing and what there targets were. Just an idea

Thought about that but came to the conclusion that I wanted to sort out what had screwed up my head in the first place around food rather than set myself set goals. Originally I thought lose five stone be happy. Now I am thinking get happy then see where I am on the weight. Got on my scales at home this morning but do not trust them. I know it is going down and I know I feel better than I did but I haven't sorted all my issues out yet. I suppose who has? When I had food though I wouldn't even think about them and now I have to. These ramblings have helped massively and I thank Blonde for being a forum where I can post this stuff. I used to eat a lot when I heard my kids fight. I used to eat a lot when I was bored or tired. I certainly stuffed my face when unhappy. Oh don't get me wrong I would laugh through the whole lot of it whilst still not liking myself very much.

The cycle goes....unhappy......eat......guilt........repeat as necessary. In my case a lot. Right now I put up with a lot less. If it makes me unhappy I  am tempted to address it in a forthright way. It got me into tremendous trouble at work this week. This is a job I like though so it was a tough week. So when I got to Dusseldorf airport I was unhappy about work and I have to hang around for my flight. Would have normally had a steak at the Red Baron and a large cake but I knew what I was feeling so sat down and mapped out what I needed to do to put it right and then wrote a post for the diary.  I have a number of new life goals to focus on. This is a slow process that will probably continue for the rest of my life........unlike the diary,

that was me - I took it off once it started sliding back the wrong way :D

My father about five years ago had a check up at the dentist. Nothing unusual in that. When the Xray came out the dentist made him phone the doctor straight away. He had detected shading which meant that there was a lump at the very top of the throat behind the nasal passage. To cut a long story short he had an eighteen hour operation involving two teams of surgeons.
I remember like it was yesterday going to visit him in the hospital. This strong caring man, immobile in a hospital bed. It took a long time and the strength of all those around him as well as his own stubborness to pull through but pull through he did and he is still with us today.
Today finding out that Maureen has four members of her family in hospital just reminds me of the impact of having one person needing care and I think how strong this lady and how strong her family have been for such a long time. So positive and caring and really showing what family life is about. I am disgusted by the lunatics that seem to think that they can do what they want without consequence. Maureen and Darren somehow we have never had the opportunity to really talk but yours is the first thread I read every time I log on and you have made a lasting impression on me. I have to believe that things will improve for you and wish you a return to a happier and more stable time ahead.
Somehow weight loss seems a little trivial
Huge hugs and support

Snat xx

Thanks for posting  Maureens pokerstars details Red as I know there are plenty of blondes who care.

So onto the flight I go. It is the last flight back on a Friday night and it is always busy. I settle myself down in the seat next to the window. I get the seat belt I do it up and yes wait for this one……………I tighten it. It just gets better and better this week as I decide to play a bit of poker….well what I played was something that could be loosely described as poker but either way it got me to the final table where the wheels fell off. That was not the good thing though. No the good things were as follows.
One. Bumping into Muppet which was the first time we had seen each other since West Ham finished higher than the Spurs…..oh happy days.
Two. I am wearing a sweatshirt that I had not worn for over four years. I bought it in New York seven years ago and I had never had the heart to throw it away.
Three. Loads of people came up and told me how well I am looking……..thank you thank you thank you.

So a great week with weigh in to come……….and with that back to Snotty. His idea of a good lesson plan was to open the text book and dictate directly word for word for an hour and a half. What was worse he did so at pace so you couldn’t keep up and if you tried not to keep up thinking you would copy it out in your own time he gave you a detention. So here was an evil sadistic little man. He was of Yodaesque proportions, and indeed looks, and drove a red Datsun Cherry. Now I do not want to upset the really nice short blokes that are out there but let me tell you I do not understand this need of certain short males to try impose themselves by being out and out (please find a suitable word or words) . Well Snotty had this disease in spades and yet there was humour there. I mean there was the time when the ezzes and I all got hauled into his office. The ezzes were a group of my mates in the fourth year. There was Kez, Jez, Dez and Mez and of course Phil and if you think I was going to call myself Phez and be related to a stupid red hat you can think again.

What happened was this. There was a kid at school who used to tell outrageous stories. No surprise there then. But these were truly outrageous. His Dad played football for Liverpool. His Uncle had climbed Everest. More likely his Dad had played football in a park in Liverpool and his Dad worked for Everest. Anyway the material was too good and I was a typical nasty teenager so he was fair game. Well he reacted badly. In fact he reacted so badly he brought a knife into school to stab me with. He was showing it to everybody. I yet again was reasonably worried. Funnily I have noticed whilst doing this diary that actual violence does not worry or scare me but thought of it does. It’s official I am definitely weird.

So what should I do? Lunatic with knife threatening to stab me and me unarmed and nervous. Now in the olden times in which I grew up, your desk was where you kept your books. They were made of wood and they had lids…..and lockers were some sort of terrible American word used in programmes like Happy Days. Oops I am drifting like a Ronnie Corbett story. So the desks had lids and the lids opened because down each side was a hinged metal arm. I am sitting in a particularly boring science lesson when the solution comes to me. I take out a ha’penny and start unscrewing the sides of the desk. They are caked in the grime of years of hard school life but I am a man on a mission. After much persuasion I have managed to unscrew both and wrapped them in a polythene bag. I then manage to purloin a roll of Sellotape away from the stores cupboard and wind it round and round so it is a tight nasty implement. Please understand me dear reader I do not want to use it but my imagination is running wild and it may get nasty. Okay try it out at lunchtime before going out to the playground. The ezzes all have something just in case and I smack Nelly (for that is now my new weapons name) onto the desk. Well wouldn’t you know it just at that moment Baldeagle walks into the classroom. Now Baldeagle was so named because he looked just like the character out of the Texan advert.

A Texan bar was a chewy bar. The advert had a cartoon  Texan cowboy tied to a stake surrounded by Red Indians (or native Americans depending on your sensibilities) and the Texan shouts at the Indian chief “Hang on there Baldeagle….You wouldn’t kill a man before he’s finished his Texan bar”. So because the bar is so chewy and it takes ages for the cowboy to eat it, the Red Indians eventually tire and all fall asleep on the ground. Personally I think they had all been in one of Snottys lessons as that would have had the same effect.

So into the room walks Baldeagle and shouts out “COOKLIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”. Here we go again another detention. Quick as a flash I say “having a fit sir!”…..we all get sent to Snotty’s office as he is the year master. We stand like the naughty boys we have been. Snotty opens a cupboard absolutely full of canes and says “by rights I should give you all one of these!” when Jez turns round and says “but sir we all thought you were into leather!”. Well bless him Snotty cracked up and let us all off so he was not all bad. Indeed later on when I get to the sixth form he was witness to my worst and finest hours but that is way in the future.

Next week on the school front I think it might be good to give you some idea of the imagination schoolboys have when it comes to recreational sports. I mean we came up with two particular beauties known as the “Basket Dock” and a particular favourite which was “musical boot boys”.

And so to fat club. I am dreading it as I know the weight loss has to slow. Not only that but it has been a tough couple of weeks as the monotony and boredom and dare I say it a little jealousy have set in. I mean why should all these people eat what they want? Smells are becoming more poignant and vivid and occasionally I have felt hungry and not been sure if it is craving or hunger or just frustration. After all I have been eating gloop for seven weeks and it is in some ways similar to the food in The Matrix. Please do not worry I am not ready to finish just yet as it is only a moments frustration that will pass but merits logging.
In the car this week all week I have been listening to Otis. It really  is an onion of an album but tonight I need, as you know, something loud to be on as I pull up to the club so I plump for the Kinks “All Day and All Of The Night”. Two weeks since I have been here and I am excited…………..our survey said “ Phil Cooklin come on down”. Another ten pounds. A grand total of 47 pounds or 3 stone 5 pounds or 21 kilos. There are lots of things that still need doing. I need to increase my aerobic work as I have slid in the last two weeks. Also the weigh in is a lift and where possible I should not miss it. Two weeks is too long.

Please remember this. Just because you can say something does not always mean you should. Until next week have a good week.

47 pounds?..that's astonishing..Well done. You look a lot better in Tighty's pic than you did in the caption comp picture (and not just because you showed more skin )

Hi Phil...Great read as usual.

You looked so well Wednesday at the G as havent seen you in an age....keep it up ur inspiring me to the soup,shake and water...

by the way how did you come to murder that stack on wednesday.......????????

I became for one hand a non believer and got what I deserved lol Jacks into aces

Thank you sir you are too kind......people are starting to notice and that is great as it makes you feel so good. Then there are people like the one I met Adams sports day this morning. Wow you have lost loads weight. How are you doing it? I am on Lighter Life. Oh says she.....I don't know anybody who has kept it off on that course..................so there you go no point in continuing because her mates all put the weight back on.........my fear would seem to be well placed. So now I have to become the first person to do something. Like climb Everest or get to the North Pole. Adam came third in the year 7 100 metres final in 14.8. Not bad for a second row forward.

keep it up Phil!  I have to say Tighty's picture doesn't do you full justice - I was a little worried that all the not eating business would leave you looking ill and haggard, but was amazed at how well and healthy you looked last time I saw you.  I'm almost inspired to do something about my own spare tyre (but will put it off for a while longer I think) :D

This diary is spellbinding Phil. I'm really impressed by your perseverance with the diet and you don't half tell a good story, but I must admit to having one rather selfish concern. How far are you intending to take this ?

I mean if you plan to live on gloop for evermore does that mean that I will never again be able to enjoy your company for a couple of glasses of wine and that well-known Italian speciality, meat pie ?

Well to be honest Ralph I am not totally sure. what I know definitively is that I certainly do have the self control I need around food if I want to have. I kind of think somewhere between fourteen and fifteen stone will feel comfortable at which point I plan to switch to a much healthier lifestyle, building on the exercise that I have started and also planning my meals for a week. If I do all of this then I will just plan a good meal with a couple of glasses of wine with a plate of traditional Italian meat pie. We will go somewhere in Nottingham and thern go to DTD and carve up a tourney...........sometime after the barmitzvah probably but maybe before..........it is a racing certainty

Where's this photo?  I must have missed it.  I don't miss much on here usually, and I certainly don't want to miss this!

(http://blondepoker.com/forum/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=34870.0;attach=21103;image)

WOW!  Looking good fella.

(Can't see your shoes either, which is a bonus)

Okay so last night I tried my two mile stroll around the village. I deliberately hadn't done it until now because I just didn't want to demotivate myself in case it went badly. After all there isn't a whole lot going in, so to expect a good performance is probably rather stupid........a new record time of 26 minutes 35 secs and unbelievably I jogged the last 200 yards because I felt so good. Now I realise that the elite athletes amongst you are rolling on the floor laughing, well if you are not you damn well should be but let me tell you, for one who could barely get in or out of the car eight weeks ago this is nothing short of a miracle.

Now rather nicely this brings me onto a special bonus post. Today is the intershul athletics competition at Lee Valley stadium. I use the term athletics loosely but the word competition is used in its very vilest sense. I always offer to help and the kids have taken part for the last few years and brought back quite a haul for the trophy cabinet. Let's get it straight right now it is not the kids who are the problem. Oh no. It is most definitely the parents. That living the dream through their children is much in evidence.

As the official starter I have been chastised by one parent for not knowing what I was doing. This parent went on and on to such a degree I eventually had to warn him that I was losing my temper and he would be wise to back off. Oh and last year a mother of the boy who finished second to Ads by a full five metres went up to the judges table and complained that he was ineligible as he was obviously too old as he is too tall to be of the right age. You could not make this stuff up.

I can't decide if this is a Jewish thing (I do have a problem when I see the behaviour of large gatherings of Jewish people but I think that may be a regional thing seeing as I am a provincial boy) or just a parent group thing but every year I come away with increased blood pressure. I did think of not doing it this year but in honesty I want the kids to have opportunities both in and out of school to have to deal with success and failure and to understand that it is not about being the best but about being the best that you can be.

It has been a great year for me as a parent this year. Rachel making it to the national finals of the memory challenge, getting her Taekwando Green belt and now graduating to Costa (City of St Albans swimming club....and to warm up they do 8 lengths of a 25 metre pool) and Ads winning Player of the year for the second year running for Old Albanians, winning awards at scholl for work and already knowing his bar mitzvah reading even though it is not until November.

So this afternoon we will all go and maybe Adam and Rachel will win and maybe they won't. Doesn't really matter as we will all go out and celebrate afterwards regardless as long as I see them do the following. Compete like hell during. Be humble if they win and congratulate the winner if they do not. As for the other parents.....well that is their problem

Phil,

Please pass on to Rachel & Adam my congrats on a great year.

May I enquire as to what "intershul" means?

47lbs - wow! (Excuse the late reply, am on "catch-up" speed-reading here).

I've done with dieting now, too late, gone to seed, but in my twice-annual dieting days, there was that magic moment when a pair of trousers a size smaller than of late suddenly fitted - and that moment was abolutely priceless, because it's something you can only do yourself, & you can't cheat.  I know how pleased you must be with yourself. Enjoy.

And this, which I also noted, is superb, says so much in so few words. It should be your signature, if you did not already have such a blindingly good sig.

Please remember this. Just because you can say something does not always mean you should.

Cof E equivalent would be competition between various churches/parishes I think...

Oh you clever thing you. Indeed the children from eight different synagogues gathered at Lee Valley Sports centre for a range of races from ages five through to twelve. The blue riband event is the 12 year old boys and 12 year old girls 100 metres as they are the only races with a trophy as well as a medal. Since the age of 7 Ads has had his eyes on this trophy and there have been three boys, Ads, Hendon and Muswell Hill who have been in fierce competition each year for some time now.

It had already been an emotional afternoon. Rachel had run the race of her life in the 9/10 girls 4 x 100m relay anchoring the team to silver in such a determined way that her brother was the first one on the track to hug her. Ads had picked up three silver medals in the 400 metres, the long jump and 4 x 100 m. As official starter I generally do not get to see the races too closely as I am 100 metres away from the business end of the race but somebody kindly swapped with me so I went to the back of the main stand.

He flew away from the blocks, hopefully I will find a good picture of him in full flight because it really is scary, and held on to win. The first thing he did was turn round and shake everybody elses hand in exactly the same way as he had congratulated the winners when he had failed to win. When competition is this fierce and let me tell you for the kids it was, to see them behave in this way does give hope for this generation.

And then there are the parents. At the end of the afternoon there is always a Mums and a Dads 4 x 100 metres relay. This event is fun. There are no medals and it carries no points. At the end of a hard fought Mums race one of the Mothers walks up to the officials desk and launches into an official complaint because one of the teams had the twelve year old girls champion in it........oh get a life. When I get more pictures I will post them.

One funny thing did happen. Adam said to me afterwards as we were all celebrating in an Italian restaurant in Radlett "Daddy do you know what song I was singing in my head as I was running?" No says I amazed that he would be singing any song at all whilst trying to run as fast as he can..."the intro to smoke on the water", and they say the male of the species can't multitask.

Well done Ads

GREAT story. If you were any prouder as a Dad, you'd burst. Quite right too.

Good looking lad Phil. Takes after his mum?

re our conversation last night.......keep posting please! (actually forget the please, that's an order)

It has been an absolute disaster of a week on the diet front. I mean I fell off the damn thing all over the place. Almost decided that enough is enough and walked away  from it completely. You see I suffered the triple edged sword of success, failure and guilt all in a twelve hour period and I am afraid it has knocked me so far off course I am not even sure that I can get back on and even if I can do I honestly give a stuff.
So how did it all end up here. Well on Sunday as you know  Ads won the athletics and with Rachie getting a medal too I was absolutely made up. It was at this point I made my first mistake. I decided to play the Sunday night comp at the G. I mean I love the folks at the G and the Sunday nighter if everybody turns out is probably one of the best comps around for both poker and company. I shouldn’t have played it though because I was way too emotionally wired from the events of the afternoon.
So I walk into the G and it is like all my yesterdays and todays in a poker sense. I mean so many good mates from the poker world it was just incredible. I entered late and got a seat as an alternate and in no time at all had managed to lose them all. It was no patience on my part and of course not hitting a card along with no patience and three calling stations can only lead to imminent demise. And so it came to pass. I was still very chatty at this point  and should never have sat down at the cash table. Mistake number two. I managed to upset one of the most mild mannered people at the table who exploded in a most unlikely fashion. Having said too much at the table I then compound it by going on and on about it until poor David just had to explode.
Well they say pride comes before a fall and I feel right now that I have fallen a hell of a way. What to do next? I am really not sure. I think I will call my counsellor tomorrow and talk it through with her but right now I am just massively depressed that I seem to be failing...................... and way too emotional to carry on this post

Stick with it Snatty,  I know you can do this. ...not a doubt in my mind. Everybody trying to kick a habit can fall off the wagon sometimes, it's those that recognise that it's only a blip that will succeed.

re sunday night phil, i still cant get my head round it. There was you putting yourself down for something that you felt was wrong, then dave, who normally likes a laugh at the table suddenly exploded!!!! And then stars calling you pathetic and gets up!!! All bizarre imo for what was supposed to be a 'fun' game win or lose. Keep up the diary too, i dont read it, i think its shit but each to their own :)

Phil,

Pack that sort of talk up.

You had a bad night. You recognized it. If you owe an apology to anyone, I know you'll have proffered it. If you don't, don't.

It's now that your backbone & heart will do their job.

Move on, get that bloody chin up (there are less of them to get up now), & move on. Some day's it rains.

x

Some day's it rains.
so Tony says....

Nail on head..ere's a bit of strength..
xx

I was starting to feel guilty for asking if we were ever going out for a meat pie again..

Keep going Snat ... you know why you are doing this, never lose sight of it !!

Just a minor setback, get going again & your confidence will soar.

Keep at it Snatty, ....you've only reached your schooldays, still so much more for you to write about.

((((((Phil)))))) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Keep it going mate.  Your'e my first read every am. Don't make me read TK's diary first.

You know you want to.

now if there was a diaries board

Did tdid there not use to be a diary board of Great Britain?

I'd like to just say that this is a truely wonderful thread/diary/thingy.

You are a true inspiration Phil not just the dieting but the life coaching i find invaluable.

A humble yet remarkable man.

Keep going sir.


 ;tightend; ;hattip; ;tightend; ;hattip; ;tightend; ;hattip; ;tightend; ;hattip;

:)up

Keep it up Phil....ur doing great and you look fantastic ( in a non gay type of way...i dont have problems with my sexuality honest...now wheres my pink dress..)

Also youv'e inspired me to join u on the gloop soup and water thing...with a bit more food added..obv

Phil - t-shirts are in the post.  I'm sure they're going to be too big for you!

:)up

They arrived today thank you sir...please pm me the cost of postage.

A quick thank you for all the support. I know it is my fault that I became so large but all your support is definitely helping me to get positive again and therefore address these mood swings and emotions................and if I ever need to understand the meaning of determination I can always look at this

wow see Phil if he can reach the finishing line  so can you.....

I haven't read this for a few weeks.

Great blog Phil, keep it up mate. It's a very brave thing looking inside yourself and addressing your 'issues' and so much easier to just carry on as normal.

Your weight loss is amazing and your family must be so proud of you, probably as proud of you, as you so obviously are of them.

Well done pal, your a real inspiration. ;applause;

Saw you on the telly last night Snat.

Thought you looked great.

And cracking entertainment as ever too.

Btw nice footwear.

I remember some time ago reading a book called the “secret lemonade drinker” about a guy who works in a launderette and goes home one day to find his wife in bed with his best friend......the story meanders hither and thither and it all works out well. Why do I tell you this useless information? Well in the launderette is a sign. It says “today is the first day in the rest of your life” and to be honest folks that is what I have done today. Just taken it as the first day of the new diet......more of that later. First up “The basket dock and musical boot boys”.

Well if you think adults are nasty it is my humble opinion that teenage boys are far worse. Having been bullied in my first year at senior school I was not the honourable man that one would hope I would become. Oh no. I crossed over the fence to the dark side with devastating force. It started with musical boot boys where a group of us would gather around a poor unfortunate victim and to the cartoon theme of Roobarb and Custard would summarily start kicking him. Why? I don’t know. I honestly don’t, other than violence in a group is exciting ask any West Ham fan who has been to Millwall away. Well nobody got hurt too badly not at school anyway, the odd bruise was about the sum of it and also it wasn’t done to any one boy but would rotate and members of the group all got it done to them at some time or other. Hang on a second it sounds like I am trying to justify my behaviour. There is no justification. Sound familiar? Sounds like diet.

Back to the subject in hand musical boot boys was okay but it lacked style. I decided to come up with something a little more creative. The basket dock. Unfortunately I had to find a victim to see if it would work and a bit like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn painting the fence, I would have to make this look as though it was great fun. So what I did was this. In olden day classrooms were olden day wastepaper baskets. These were large cube shapes made out of flax with holes on either side as handles. Well you could sit in one and when you sat in it you could pin someone’s  arms in by using the window poles through the holes in the basket. You then balance the pole on two desks with the basket hanging down and rock it gently backwards  and forwards like a homemade swing. Making it look like great fun until somebody says “that looks like fun can I have a go?” Sure enough only a minute of gently swaying when Germaine June walks past and looks fascinated by the whole idea.

So we plonk him in the bin and pin his arms inside the bin and feed the window pole through. You really cannot get out. This time we are going to put it to the test. We get  two old wooden chairs and place them on the desks. We then balance the pole from  the top of one chair to the top of the other across the pathway between the desks. At this moment unfortunately the red mist overtook the group and what started off as a gentle swing had the basket doing for the full 360 with Germaine scared as hell. Just at that moment the lunchtime bell goes off again and we take poor GJ down get the chairs off the desks and all wait for baldeagle to walk through the door. Unfortunately we had forgotten to take the wastepaper basket off GJ and he was walking, well crawling round the floor as baldeagle walks in. Not much GJ could do really as his arms were still pinned. Baldeagle “June what are you doing? Stand up right now!!”.
“I can’t sir!!!”
“Then you can have a detention”
Evil really. Poor bloke is green at the gills and has just picked up a detention. Unfortunately for my regular readers I have rather a lot of stories that may not paint me in the best of lights but there you go in that respect I am no different to anybody else.

GJ was unfortunate in many ways really. He was in my maths set and our teacher was a teacher who had the nickname “chopper”. Chopper was scary and not just scary, but in the way that baldeagle was thick chopper was sharp. Well GJ walks into maths one morning and chopper says “June where is your homework?”. GJ answers quick as a flash “it’s at home sir”....Chopper weighs him up like Tighty does before banging in a reraise and says “well then you won’t mind me checking in your desk then!” and with that grabs GJ by the ear and drags him across to the other side of the school reappearing five minutes later with GJ’s ear in one hand and the said maths exercise book in the other. Not good.
And finally on the subject of school my favourite moment for so many reasons. It was the year of the great acorn fights. All years were involved and they bloody hurt when you got hit by them. Acorns were at a premium and being the businessman I am I spotted an opportunity to make a bit of money collecting and selling them. I became rather good at collecting them and there were a number of Oaks in the school grounds. Now I had a trusty half brick that I would wang up into the trees trying to dislodge acorns. Anyway on this particular day at the exact moment that the half brick leaves my hand the deputy head walks round the corner of the old school block. The brick misses him, but only just. I loved the moment his face paled as he picked up the trajectory of the brick in his peripheral vision. I loved watching the evasive action and the severely dirtied trousers from the undignified sprawl and I loved the fact that I had managed to get out of sight so he could not be sure who had thrown it. He of course had his revenge when he expelled me for writing ten sides on how to improve the education system in my mock A level history exam.

So on to fat club. I was asked to list down all the emotions and feelings around me eating the stuff I did on Monday and Tuesday. There is a lot of it. You know me not one to hold back once in motion. I now understand the following emotions
1.   I eat because I am happy
2.   I eat because I am unhappy
3.   I eat as a displacement activity
4.   I use the petulant child technique as an excuse
5.   I am not going to beat myself up but I am going to get up and find the inner strength to carry on because that is what I want to do.
So I have Smoke on the water ready to blast out on the stereo when I get into the car but the mobile goes off before I can get to listen to it. A good mate phoned to see how I was because he was concerned about my post earlier in the week. Having shot the breeze with him for a bit and hung up I then get a phone call from my guvnor and once we have finished that I am there. Well walking up the stairs to the fat club room I feel mentally about four stone heavier than last week.

Well I lost a pound. Only one but one more than I deserved. Forty eight pounds in total. My addictive nature around food though would appear to be there and as strong as ever. We had a good session at fat club today talking about addictive tendencies and the addictive circle. It is a nice group of normal blokes who are just trying to find their way through their relationship with food. It made a lot of sense and I am a wiser man because of this week’s activities. Battered yes but not bowed. A big thank you for all the support both on the thread and by pm it really helped and to CC at fat club because she really knows what she is talking about.

So on to next week. I think we need to look at a new topic and so we will go back to sport and my passion for West Ham United or maybe rugby and my undying love of the Leicester Tigers.
This week the words of a very wise man entered my head. He always said I do not want you to change a lot. I just want you to move an inch. I don’t want you to be a good man but I want you to try and be a better man. He understood that if everybody moved just a little bit and just tried to be a little bit better then we would all have moved to a much better place. As I said he is a very clever man.

This week the words of a very wise man entered my head. He always said I do not want you to change a lot. I just want you to move an inch. I don’t want you to be a good man but I want you to try and be a better man. He understood that if everybody moved just a little bit and just tried to be a little bit better then we would all have moved to a much better place. As I said he is a very clever man.

Wht a great quote.

A clever man indeed. Far more clever than someone who uses the word "sport", "passion", & "West Ham United" in the same sentence. If I may make so bold.

Superb Snatty as always.

You didn't make anything bold - you used italics.

Great post as always Snatty.

Wow, this thread is deep,

Some very quite clever and meaningful quotes in here Snatty, keep up the hard work =)

wow didn't realise we were so much alike Phil,

You were trouble at school,so was I,
You are a West Ham Fan,so am I,
You play poker,so do I,
You are a tops bloke,similarities end.......

 :)up

You got expelled for writing ten sides on how to improve the education system in your mock history "a" level.

What an truly heroic deed.  ;tightend;

Yet another superb post Phil, which really cheered me up, please do keep them coming.

48lb is a major achievement Snatty, top work. Like I mentioned the other night you've got me at it too.
I dropped from 115kg to around 98kg after breathing problems surfaced and the weight loss helped a lot. But I've stuck 9kg back on over the last year, mainly thanks to inactivity before and after that hip replacement thing.
Now I've started hitting the gym five days a week for the past fortnight or so and I'll soon drop below 100kg again. Once I'm there I can stay there; it's true what they say you have to change your lifestyle either on the food or the excercise front. There's feck all chance of me cutting out takeaways, as I live on them, but gym I can easily fit in. One hour is enough time to burn 500 calories and it's something that's worth doing anyway.
Keep it up, have no doubts you'll get where you want.

There is one thing that I know for absolutely certain as I sit here in my forty fifth year. Life goes in cycles. Just when you are fully enjoying what one might describe as a golden time a seismic shift occurs. And so it was for me this week.
I had just read Tighty’s magnificent series of posts about his relationship with his father. I was glowing in the warm feeling of having regular posts by Red back on his thread. I had spent the weekend in Leicester with the family just catching up. Ads was showing off his latest trophy and my folks were spoiling the kids rotten. They stayed with Mum and Dad on Saturday and Anne Marie and I were going to get up early on Sunday and join everyone for breakfast. Now Sunday morning breakfasts at my folks are the things of which legends are made. Often my sister and her kids pop in and one visitor is always there. Uncle Gerald.

Now Uncle Gerald is an amazing man. He fought in the war and was a lieutenant in the artillery in Africa. He also fought in Italy and had a great love of the country. He was demobbed in 1947 and he went into the family cabinet making business in Leicester as my grandfather was unwell. He kept the business growing and ensured that all his brothers and sisters were financially supported and able to progress and develop their careers. Uncle Sidney became a doctor. My father became an accountant. Uncle Laurie went on to LSE and Chicago business school. My aunts both got married. All of this though was based on the rock like behaviour of Uncle Gerald. A real capo di tutti capi

So there we are, all having breakfast on Sunday morning and it was lovely. Uncle Gerald at eighty two was in great form and my kids absolutely adore the time they spend with him. He made all children feel special. He had a way of relating to them in a way that just brought light and challenge at the same time. He would ask intelligent questions and develop discussions regardless of your age.

So the weekend over and I am throwing myself into another week and have reached Wednesday when the phone goes. It is my Mum. “I have some bad news I am afraid. Uncle Gerald has had a massive heart attack and is in the Royal Infirmary”. You know when you get punched in the stomach and it catches you off guard and all the air is sucked out your lungs well that is how I felt. An hour later a second phone call tells me he has unfortunately passed away. The kids are home so I have to stay upbeat and calm until Anne Marie gets back. Breaking the news was gut wrenchingly horrible but I needed them to hear it from me so that we could talk it through together. An hour and a half later I am in the car and on my way up to Leicester.

Through the night in the Jewish religion people stay with the body and the body is not left alone as a mark of respect. It is also an honour as the person obviously is not doing it to hear the words thank you. Jewish burials always occur as soon after death as possible, frequently the next day. And so yesterday we buried Uncle Gerald. I spent a fair amount of the night with Dad at the Synagogue with Uncle Gerald and managed to get Dad to go home in the early hours. I was there and to pass the time I went and had a look at the bookcase that stood in the corner.

Now Uncle Gerald could play poker. And by play I mean if I had ten percent of his ability I would be a sponsored player. He only played for fun but he was a regular winner in his “game with the boys” as he described it. I remember as a small boy on a Sunday morning the stories he would tell of the hands against this one or that one. So dear reader I can hear the question in your head, what on earth (or beyond if you like) has this got to do with 5 am in the morning and guarding the remains of one of your heroes. Well I will tell you.

Whilst looking at the bookcase I came across a book called Heroes of Jewish Thought. I reached a great man called Hillel who lived 1000BC and at the end of the story of his life I found two quotes. The first was “Do not judge your fellow man until you have been in his place”. The second relates to poker. There is a regular player in Luton called Avi. He is a devil to play against as he plays a wide spectrum of hands and whatever he is playing he does it with a smile. He has a favourite saying “If not now when?”. At 5.05 am I see the following Hillel quote. If I am not for myself then who will be for me? And if I am for myself only then what am I? And if not now when? There were hundreds of books and probably millions of pages and I get a poker quote. I have never felt more connected.

Finally how great a man was Uncle Gerald. I will tell you this. Some people measure themselves by their possessions. Some by the number of friends. Some by the seeking of knowledge. All I know is that all my friends called him Uncle Gerald just like me. If that’s not true greatness I do not know what is.

As they say where I come from “I wish you long life”

Through the night in the Jewish religion people stay with the body and the body is not left alone as a mark of respect.

It's the same in our society Phil.  On the night before the funeral the women folk stay indoors and the men light a big fire and stay outdoors. No one sleeps.

My respect to Uncle Gerald. May he long be remembered, and may he rest in peace.

RIP Uncle Gerald.

RIP Uncle Gerald. Zichro livracha.

I wish you long life

So today on the news an absolute classic fat story. Yes the worlds largest man has managed to lose twenty seven yes that is twenty seven stone. This follows quickly on the heels of the earlier story this week about the fat chromozone. Anybody who believes that we do not live in a fatist society had better think again.
If we targeted any other minority in this way we would be hauled quite correctly in front of some equality body or other. Now to the best of my knowledge you can’t get third party heart disease from sitting too close to a fat person so why is it okay to persecute a group like this. It is wrong.
Personally I would like all this time and trouble to be targeted at rude and offensive people. It is okay to be rude and offensive. Nobody takes exception and if they do they are probably too nice to do anything about it. I am not saying go and be nice to everybody, I am saying if you encounter somebody being rude and obnoxious then tell them to damn well stop it. Less rude people. Less stress. Fewer heart attacks saving the NHS countless thousands.
As for us fatties leave us alone or face our wrath……….
More this evening after fat club

Look I need to have a rant. It has just happened again. Washing my hands in the toilet at work and out of nowhere there is a little electronic beep. Instantly my hand goes to my pocket to check my mobile phone. Instant wet patch on side of trousers from wet hand but better than that, it has nothing to do with the phone. Oh no. This is the beep that gives you a three second warning that the automatic air freshener is about to discharge itself and if you don’t move out of the way you are going to smell like a bog for the rest of the day………..Fifth bloody day running I end up sitting at my desk smelling like a toilet. Will I ever learn? Well it seems unlikely.

And while we are on the subject of learning, let’s talk about dancing. Now Mrs Snat has got it into her head that she wants to learn to dance “properly” in time for Ads Bar Mitzvah and I in my infinite wisdom have said “yes Dear no problem”. What am I thinking? Listen when the good lord was handing out attributes and it came to dancing and rhythm the Jewish man was placed last on the list. I mean if white men got no rhythm Jewish men got even less. In fact it is so bad that the average Jewish male teenager dances “like a Dad” from a very very early age. If you want the best laugh going just find a Bar Mitzvah celebration in your locality. Phone up the venue where the party is and say you would like to visit as you are thinking of hiring it out. Go along and just cry with laughter. I of course am an exception to this rule. I am even worse than the average Jewish male. I mean I try. I really do. I give it everything but it is just bloody painful to watch me dance. We start classes very soon and I am just dreading it.

Moving from dancing it seems logical to cover off other incredibly embarrassing things. I have of course suffered an absolutely monumental number of embarrassing situations. Some are too painful to post.

I am by nature a very shy and private person. When you have stopped laughing I will continue. I would as a child try and avoid getting up in front of people or would make sure that I would not be in any possible situation that might turn into what I call a Terry and June moment. For those of you who have forgotten Terry and June try this for size. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpa2hH54TyU  . A Terry and June moment is one that feels like the most painful situation comedy. You know the sort of incident that is so painful that you have to change channel. I was also incredibly shy and awkward around women and in honesty I still am. Over the years of course I have found ways of overcoming this shyness so that you really can’t tell but trust me it is still there.

Now I can remember the first time that I realised how much I hated being embarrassed in public. I had dressed myself for the first time. I had chosen the clothes and everything. Couldn’t have been much older than twenty one. In fairness I can’t remember how old I was but I was very young. I was going with Dad to visit my Aunt and I think it was before my sister was born so I must have been around four. Anyway I had got my socks on inside out and my Aunt pointed it out to me in front of other people and I just crumpled inside. It destroyed me.
Other early memories included forgetting my lines at the junior school play, fairly big embarrassment that one, crying at my seventh birthday party because one of the other boys blew the candles out, I can’t believe I even shared that one with you, and of course this absolute classic which happened at my Bar Mitzvah.

Be aware there is nowhere to hide when it is your Bar Mitzvah. You are the centre of attention and it is full on. You are thirteen or in my case emotionally about ten. How can I put it in terms that all can understand? Try this one for size. When you or your partner are about to have children everybody walks up to you and comes out with this little classic “it will change your life completely”. They don’t tell you how it will change your life completely. They don’t even tell you if it will change your life for the better or not.

Well that’s what it is like as you approach your Bar Mitzvah. In fact to be totally honest the day isn’t for you at all. It is for the rest of the family. You just have to do the work. Anyway the big day dawns and the synagogue is full to overflowing with lots of family who come up to me and say “I haven’t seen you since you were so big” and I smile back trying to be pleasant and just wishing it was somebody else they were talking to. The Hebrew bit goes okay. I even know what I am singing about. It is the story of the birth of Samson, fairly apt now as I view my long flowing locks in the mirror. Anyway we go over the Road to the Communal Hall where there is a big lunch laid on. During the lunch there are speeches and toasts. The last two speeches are one about the Bar Mitzvah boy and one by the Bar Mitzvah boy in response.

The one to the Bar Mitzvah boy, me, was given by Uncle Gerald and he told the story of how as a small boy I had gone missing. Now it was normal for me to go playing in Roundhill Road or Bodnant Avenue occasionally I strayed as far as Homeway Road cos I had a mate there. Different times indeed. My parents would now be incarcerated for neglect etc. etc. So moving swiftly on, no matter which street I was playing in it was generally no problem because I would always be home for tea. Always. Without fail. Then one day I wasn’t. Must have been about six or seven. Tea time came and went. No Phil. No sign of Phil. None of my friends had seen Phil. Everyone starts looking for me and after about half an hour Uncle Gerald finds me down a great big hole in the ground where I am playing in the mud and clay chatting to the workmen.

Uncle Gerald goes on to tell the story of how he knows I am going to be a great businessman on account of my go kart project in woodwork. For this project I got the wood for free from his shop. I got the teacher to pretty much make it by asking for advice the whole time and I got two of my friends to walk it the two and a half miles home whilst I cycled ahead on my bike.

He tells these stories beautifully. Schmalzing it up in just the right way. I can feel myself welling up. I am nervous as hell at the thought of doing the speech and now he is telling all these funny stories about me. I stand up to give my response and yes ladies and gentlemen I blubbed. Not a word. No other way to put it. The audience split into two groups almost immediately. The women all wanted to hug me and the men reacted pretty much like you are now. A classic real life Terry and June moment. Even now I get emotional at the strangest things like crappy emotional movies which have Rachel and I stretching for the tissues almost instantly.

The getting up in front of people doesn’t bother me anymore. I have done presentations to hundreds and even appeared live on TV to a watching audience of my parents and a couple of mates. In fact I positively love it now. They say that a leopard can’t change its spots but people can and do and the only failing is in not trying.

One last Bar Mitzvah story goes like this. In Radlett we have a number of what I call helicopter Bar Mitzvahs. The family fly in and appear for one week only for their sons Bar Mitzvah and then they fly out again. Well the Rabbi on this occasion had obviously been bothered by the fact that he was unlikely to see the boy again and started his sermon like this. “It is easier to leave the religion than a book club…………..because you have to write to the book club but you can just walk away from the religion”. He proceeded to give a number of reasons why the boy concerned might be better served in not leaving the religion. Of course we never saw the boy again but it was a most eloquent and clever speech.

Talking of things you can just walk away from. You can just walk away from the diet but unfortunately for you lot that is just not going to happen for a while. Going to fat club needs some summer music and I plump for UB40 blasting out “food for thought”. Feel like a bit part player as yet again I have missed a week. Need to apply myself more, still in light of things that I had to do it just had to be this way. Onto the scales I hop, twenty two stones four pounds. Only joking no today I weigh   18 stone five and a half pounds which is a total loss of 54 and a half pounds and I have not finished yet. I have taken two minutes thirty off my march round the village time but the hundred push up challenge seems to have slipped off the radar. I will get back to doing that this week. See it is not the failing that is the key. It is the failing to try. Most people fail at most things. Not important.

So I urge you to find one small thing and go and do it. Talk about it if you want to. Keep it to yourself if you prefer. Just take warmth from the fact that you went and did it…….until next week consider this. The only person who got all his work done by Friday was Robinson Crusoe.

This diary doesn't need any schmalzing up Phil, it's awesome.

+1..What a post that was, Snatty. I was rotflmfao at that first paragraph and it got better.

Won't recognise you at the Bash in September...well done!!!  Loving your diary.  Had me in stitches from the get go today...cheers!

I'm like you, at the Barmitzvah. Speechless.

Great stuff Snat, & 4 stones (of weight loss) hoves into view. Amazing.

Does the diet mean you no longer have the energy to post, Snatty?

Noo ?

Ladies and gentlemen. Apologies but I am officially on holiday. Yes indeedy and you guessed it Luton won......
It is funny how so much of life is influenced by the most minor of mistakes. The sort of thing that can happen every day. You know what I mean. Putting petrol in a diesel engine can kill your entire day. I know because I have done it not once but twice. The first time I drove off without realising it. An expensive mistake in a Merc diesel. The second one I realised what I was doing about a gallon in and stopped and got the tow truck out immediately. That was a far less expensive mistake.

Today I made an even less expensive mistake. In marching round the village mode I got to checkpoint one I lifted up the stopwatch to see I was 20 secs inside my personal best, I believe you athletes call it a PB. So I decided not to look at the stopwatch again until home but really really push it out. I jogged more than I walked and the craters were clearly visible where each footstep landed. Home hoves into view and with one last lung bursting, eye popping, chest heaving effort I cross the line in 6.15.21.....yes ladies and gentlemen I have just broken the world record for two miles or I have by accident pressed the stop button at checkpoint one and made the rest of the walking and jogging redundant in terms of time.#

So we can see from this that sometimes we make a mistake and we have realised what we have done and sometimes we make a mistake and we do not understand the full impact or in some cases are totally unaware of it.

Yesterday I witnessed something that has left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Let me set the scene. I am in Luton and we are playing the super sat for the main event. Lots of runners and six seats and £590 for seventh. Now I played the super sat on Monday when there were four seats and £60 for 5th and you guessed it after four hours of superb play picked up the £60. So I really wanted the seat. There were 270k chips in play and there were two big stacks in Jeff Rogers and by some weird twist of fate me.

A deal was struck. Carve up the £590 for 7th so that everybody got something. £300 for seventh, £190 for eighth and £100 ninth. I decide not to play a hand when we get back to the final table. Second hand AK to me all in walks into Queens and miracle of miracles the AK wins. I then get Jacks four times in ten hands and win the blinds. Loads of pressure on the mid and small stacks as one by one they tumble out. Then we are down to seven and two shortest stacks are in small and big blinds. The whole table know what is going to happen and sure enough it did. The shortest stack gets knocked out.

Everyone starts congratulating each other. Next thing I know as I am standing by the cash desk the guy who has finished ninth tells me that the guy who finished seventh has just left the building. Tom Myland goes out with the two players to try and find him but he has gone. I am seriously hoping he has just made a mistake and when the casino contact him he pays those people concerned. If he does not I will name and shame even though I have not met him before as I would hate it to happen to any player let alone a blondie.

On a brighter note I got on the scales this morning at home and they read eighteen stones exactly and I am going back to play the main event later on today........ I love holidays. More tomorrow

Good luck in the ME!!!   ;cheerleader;  Will be railing the Blondes all day (between house chores).

Wahoooo Phil, see you there. (Thinly veiled "I'm playing too" post)

Ditto ditto!

All the best of luck for today Phil, gloop ftw.

best of luck snatty! :)

Good luck!

well apparently the young man did come back into the casino and yet again I managed to save my worst poker for a main event...................going away to boil my head

You looked fantastic yesterday Phil - really great - not seeing you that often means i can really see a difference. Bloody amazing - well done xx

Was milling about last night ,railing and donating to the hundred in prep for today..spotted you head in hand so decided not to push my crotch into 7 peoples faces to get to you...but Phil m8...you look amazing..i almost didn't recognise you..

Hats off to you..... what a display of strength and willpower...well done !!   :)up

I was uber impressed at what you have achieved thus far in your diet Phil, you looked a totally different fella last night since I last saw you at DT (http://www.dusktilldawnpoker.com/)D (http://www.dusktilldawnpoker.com/) a few months back. Not just thinner but shorter (dunno if its a good thing but I noticed it) and younger.

I think its fair to say the diary, the support and the challenge has brought out the best in you. if you hit any sort of slump (which does happen unfortunatley as someone who has gone from 19st to 13st and currently back to 15st myself) I advise you orchestrate a futher challenge to counteract it (maybe a charity weight loss type thing) as it clearly works for you, you competative bastard you.

Good work fella. ;topman;

Ladies and gentlemen thank you for the kind words and thank you to all those who came up to me last week..............now for a post

It is amazing how to bring the very best out of a competitive situation one needs to have the best adversary. In boxing terms I think of Sugar Ray Leornard, Tommy Hearns, Marvin Hagler and Roberto Duran. So many classic fights at that time between this group. In football terms that extra special edge of going to the local derby match and please I will not upset anybody here by stating one though my own travels to the Old Den following West Ham bring a little lump to the throat. In cricket the Aussies need England. It just means more and somehow everybody hates the English and yet I struggle to totally understand why. I mean we are not even an indigenous people.

We were invaded by every country under the sun and when these invasions finally stopped we only knew how to do one thing and that was to invade everybody else. So we did. I mean it is not a complete surprise that if you teach people to behave in a certain way they go off and do it. Of course if you tell people to behave in a certain way they will go and do the opposite. It is a fine line and a huge difference between teaching and telling.

So it is with Adams room. Now as you know I am hugely proud of the kids and the latest photo of the yeti in full flight has been blown up and sits proudly on my desk in the office. He and his sister though are seriously pushing the edges of reasonable behaviour as regards their personal living space. I am tired of looking down on the floor and there strewn casually all over the floor is a selection of just worn clothing. Well I am not going to tell them any longer…………now I am going to teach them.

Anne Marie and I had a council of war this morning. There is nothing for it. Anything left on the floor is going in the dustbin liner. The dustbin liner will beyond their access. It is going to hurt as they realise that they have nothing to wear. The payment in kind to get these clothes back is going to cost dearly. I have no doubt as adversaries go that Rachel and Adam are going to be right up there. I mean Rachel from a very early age realised that she would call all semi bluff behaviour from her parents. You know the type of thing. “If you don’t do this then you won’t…………..” copped the standard response of “I don’t care” and a stomp up the stairs. I will keep you posted on this one.

Now it may surprise you that in my youth I could hold a snooker cue with reasonable success. Just above average with a top break in the sixties. This skill came about due to diligent practice during chemistry lessons and the fact that the school backed onto the university which had snooker tables. The time needed to master snooker was greatly aided by the fact that in the fourth year (15 years old) I did not bother attending the first chemistry lesson of the year. From that moment on the chemistry master did not expect to see me and I didn’t disappoint him by actually turning up. This arrangement would have been fine if only parents evening had not suddenly appeared in November. My parents knew I was supposed to take chemistry and having found out that I had not been there for three months decided to come back and have a full and frank discussion with their wastrel offspring. Let us not dwell on this now.

My snooker adversary was a young man called Michael May. He was fiercely competitive and we were fairly well matched right up until it came to the last three colours. The blue, pink and black. For some reason Mike had a real problem with potting the blue and on a regular occurrence I would then walk to the table and clear them winning the frame by a couple of points. It would send him giddy and we both knew it was going to happen and I would love to say that I used to hate it but I didn’t. Oh no not me. I would make sure that maximum pain was felt with a quick one liner. You know something along the lines of “my word how unlucky was that!”.

Even my good mate Hillel had an adversary called Shammai. Now Hillel as you know came up with the line of “if not now when?” The story goes that a stranger came to town. The stranger wasn’t Jewish and said to Shammai “I want to convert to Judaism but only if you teach me everything to do with the Jewish religion whilst I stand on one leg”. Shammai gave the stranger pretty short shrift but the stranger undeterred went to Hillel and asked the same question. Hillel said certainly, so the stranger stood on one leg and Hillel said “Do to others as you would have done to yourself. Everything else in the religion is just concepts around this one belief”. The man of course converted and Hillel is an absolute hero of mine.

Now my adversary is something inside myself. I feel my mind weakening towards my diet before I am even anywhere near ready to diet switch. ~You see I know I am going to have to monitor what I eat for the rest of my life. I have had a couple of bad weeks where I did things that actually I am not sure I wanted to do. What sort of person does this? Maybe a fairly normal person……….maybe not. Anyway the poker does not help me stay on this stage of my life change. The long hours and late nights have led me to do things that I just did not need to do. Today as I sit at my desk I have found again the resolve I had at the start of this journey.  The live poker will have to be heavily regulated. The odd visit here and there.

Talking of live poker at the main event in Luton I had the pleasure of sharing a table with Alex Martin and Byronkincaid or as Alex famously called him in a post Byronic Acid. Now Byron had warned me of the dangers of the diet and I know he was looking after my best interests. Mate I have looked it up on the internet. I may suffer hair loss after I come back onto a normal diet. Well that one is okay as I haven’t got much left anyway. As regards my periods I think I should be okay there as well. Drinking enough water is just common sense. Byron I know this is not a life diet. I know that I fall off it a fair amount. I know that I am four stone lighter than I was. I know I want to get lighter still and this works for me and I know for certain your concern was genuine so I thank you.

As to my weight adversary let battle commence cos this baby ain’t done with you yet…………normal post on Friday when I think it is time to talk about the beer industry. Something we can all relate to.

Another breathtaking offering from Snatman  :)up

You don't half tell a good story Phil.

Adolescent semi-bluffs, I reckon I got a few of those through but it's harder with today's parents, well some of them....

Can't wait to hear more about the battle..my parents regularly threatened me with stuff like that..and never followed up..simply because they didn't want to have to buy me loads of new stuff :)

I'd say girls would give in way b4 the boys would..keep us posted how it goes..... oh and dont post any pics of you as i wanna see you at the bb for the WOW factor....

i think you should consider doing the starting strength program when you go back to normal food, it's pretty amazing imo. this guy is doing just that

http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/showthread.php?t=268805 (http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/showthread.php?t=268805)

was pretty LOL 4 of us being on the same table

http://www.amazon.com/Starting-Strength-2nd-Mark-Rippetoe/dp/0976805421/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1218480519&sr=8-1 (http://www.amazon.com/Starting-Strength-2nd-Mark-Rippetoe/dp/0976805421/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1218480519&sr=8-1)

Good stuff thank you

Snatty, when using the Wii Fit, do you follow a certain program or just what you feel like that day?

(I am 2 lbs overweight and generally need to work on my fitness according to the damned thing)

whatever I get the urge to do....but always core balance work. Makes you feel good

Those accursed words “New Improved Recipe” lambasted the tranquil world of the Snat diet this week. What on earth are they thinking when they put this marketing positivity all over one of my favourite drinks from fat club. Let me explain. My day goes like this. Get up and have a strawberry shake using either ice cold water or some crushed ice. Lunchtime is soup time. A choice of either Vegetable or Mushroom. Mid afternoon is Raspberry and Cranberry bar time and supper at 7pm is either a vanilla or banana shake mixed with a spoonful of instant coffee and served well cold.

It was only as I was making lunch today Tuesday that I noticed it. I took out my vegetable soup and there in large letters was that terror of existing customers the “New Improved Recipe”. What are they thinking. I mean I am probably an existing customer of the old recipe, which of course I was and if that is the case then why would you want to alienate me. Well they have, let me tell you, not just alienated me but it is now the most noxious concoction known to dieting man. Oh I feel a mega feedback session coming at fat club. Other things that were new and improved at some time in my life that were definitely retrograde steps were. Club Orange. It was the perfect biscuit after of course the Tunnocks caramel wafer. Of course there is barely a week goes by when there is not a new improved washing powder. Makes you wonder how we ever had clean clothes previously.

What does this have to do with the beer industry I hear you ask? Well let me tell you. The first time I really understood the full impact of the marketing man I was working for Guinness but that is too far along in the story so let’s back up just a bit.

Anne Marie and I had met on a blind date on the 26th January 1991. Well we had talked on the phone for about three hours before this happened. Well actually Anne Marie had talked for two hours fifty five minutes before we met and I had made non committal male grunting noises for the remainder. Listen I know you find that hard to believe based on my normal chatty behaviour but I was and still am a mere novice in the art of total manipulation of the tools of communication in relation to Mrs. Snat.

I had been given Anne Marie’s number by the mother of an ex girlfriend whose motivation was I think to ensure that I, on no account, got back together with her daughter. Well obviously you can’t blame the poor woman and she is very friendly with Anne Marie’s step mother and they decided that Anne Marie and I might be well suited. When given the phone number I asked for a description of my blind date not in physical terms but as regards personality. I got a one word answer. Feisty.  Anyway we decide to meet up. Me in my loafers with tassels and my Marks and Spencer regulation blue sweater, I have no idea what I was thinking about with the shoes, and Anne Marie in this bright emerald green sweater.

We went to the museum of the moving image. We had tea at Richoux. We went on to a movie. Narrow margin starring Gene Hackman. We had a pretty cool day really. Anyway the following day one of Anne Maries friends phoned her and asked in that particularly Jewish way “noo, what was he like?” to which Anne Marie replied “he is okay, but he is geographically unsuitable and I won’t be having his children.” Well the following weekend was Amma’s birthday and she was having a party and I wasn’t invited. She maintains to this day that the only reason she didn’t invite me was she was scared of me being interrogated by her friends. A likely story. Okay so I am not invited. Well not to the party anyway.

The party is on the Sunday, so on the Friday night I decide that I will surprise her by driving from Leicester down to Mill Hill with a few pressies to surprise her. You know flowers, champagne and some class music that I have now forgotten. She was gobsmacked. She was even more gobsmacked when after a cup of tea I got back in the car and went back to Leicester.

Skipping forwards things progressed quite nicely and we got engaged after twelve weeks. I needed to get a job in London or the south east and at exactly the same time Amma was made redundant. It was strangely both a challenging and yet somehow exciting time. I had endured a number of interviews and had been offered a job by Sketchley the dry cleaners. Just as I was about to take the job Guinness phoned and offered me a job. Now I realise that to most of you a job with Guinness would appear like manna from heaven but I honestly was not a drinker. The training though promised to be intensive and high quality and weighing beer up against dry cleaning was not really fair.

I took the job with Guinness. I remember during the interview being asked if I understood the meaning of the nine by six, five W sales technique. I said “pardon?” Well my sales training to this point had been a little sketchy and I was looking forward to getting into a blue chip company and really get a thorough grooming. If there was a nine by six sales technique I was damn well going to learn it inside out until it was six times nine. Well needless to say I have forgotten most of it now but the nine stood for the nine steps to every single sales call made on a public house.

I think I should point out here that there were two sides to Guinness at this time. The on trade sales, hairy arsed types like me and the off trade group who considered themselves superior. The on trade team took care of all the licensed premises in a particular location. In my case I ran from Paddington in the South to Hatfield in the North. East to Enfield and West to Wembley. Yes lucky me I had serious Guinness drinking areas. Paddington, Kilburn, Cricklewood and Holloway Road. Now as a nice Jewish provincial boy I had no idea about these areas. I wasn’t even certain of the difference between a protestant and a catholic but much more of this at a later time.

So my training was all about how to influence a change within an on trade premises. The nine steps to the call were something like the following. Preparation, approach, outlet check, presentation, proposal, close, pos, departure drill, administration. There was a tenth one. Evaluation, but in honesty there was never enough time to actually do any. The six were the six selling tools, none of which I can remember other than presenter, pen, calculator or some cobblers like that. The five W’s I still use today and it is the way to structure any sales pitch in its most basic form.

What is it? Why are we doing it? What is different about it? What are the details? What are the benefits? I know it is corny but people buy benefits. What is this great new thing going to do for me? How is my life going to improve using this? So my first day is upon me and I need to go to an area meeting in a pub in Southgate. I am given a large box with six hundred outlet cards in it. A presenter with lots of pages missing, a thermometer, some dummy fonts (they look like Guinness taps but are really bottle openers) and the keys to a Peugeot hired from Europcar.

Now the Peugeot led to my one and only time of busting a loyalty scheme wide open. It was the launch of EuroDisney. Well it was the pre launch promotional time and Europcar had a promotion where if you hired a car for one day then you got a WHOLE 50 POINTS. Yes ladies and gentlemen and there were a whole range of prizes. A suitcase was….wait for it……….2000 points. A video was 100 points. I mean who on the planet was ever going to get to two thousand points. Well after six months my Sierra finally arrived and I had to give the Peugeot back. Three suitcases, two matching hold alls, all Delsey and all still in use. Videos galore, Euro Disney cobblers in abundance. Well poor old Europcar did not know what to do. I am not even sure they had ordered any suitcases. They wriggled looking for a way out but I had them hooked as nowhere on their promotional blurb did it exclude company hires. Three months later the cases arrive. The smallest ones in the range. Am I happy? No I am not. So I did something that even now troubles me.

We had our wedding list at one of the well known London stores. This store had a luggage department. It stocked Delsey. It stocked the range without any Euro Disney labels on it. I took the Euro Disney labels off our cases, well the two I was going to exchange for a larger size. I lumped them into store and apologised that these were bought for our wedding but they were the wrong size and could I pay for the upgrade…………and yes I could. Somewhere out there, are two black leather Delsey suitcases that came with no labels. I am sorry.

Next weeks offering will cover the training course and how to do a taste test at 9am in the morning and if you think I haven’t answered what New Improved Recipe has to do with Guinness you are right, but rest assured I will.

So to fat club. It has been a troubling couple of weeks. The festival at Luton was not good for either my poker playing or diet. I struggled and failed and struggled some more. The positives were I managed to irritate Peter Singleton, I qualified for the main event for £100 and enjoyed just playing in it. Was I playing my A game. No somewhere closer to C minus and nice bet Tighty with the 6,3. So aside from the Bash no more live poker until after the diet is finished. Yes I will miss it but that is how it has to be. Early nights are essential to stop late night cravings. It is now clear 11 or 12 weeks in that my battle with white carbohydrate and starch will be ongoing forever.

This is not a problem but a realisation that just needs addressing in the way I structure my life for after the diet. I now have a good book for after the diet as regards working out. The walk is now down to twenty four minutes and twenty four seconds and a week of healthy activity stretches ahead for me and the family.

Hmm the journey to fat club should not have triumphal music as I am starting all over again. Except this time I am starting at eighteen stone five and a half pounds and not twenty two stone four. I am excited again. Second wind maybe. I will finish this project no matter how many hurdles I decide to put in my way. They are my hurdles and I can and will remove them. So in goes Coldplay’s “Fix You” at an unfeasibly loud volume. I am not expecting anything at this weigh in. If I come in at exactly the same as last time then that will be okay. Today I weigh 18 stones and 1pound. I wear an XL polo shirt. My waist is six plus inches smaller. A total of 59 pounds lost is almost immaterial. Ten weeks to the Barmitzvah and I feel good about my chances of hitting somewhere between fourteen and fifteen stone.

The good news is that my sense of humour has been retained during this weight loss process. Why is this important? Well only you can lose your sense of humour. Nobody can take it from you if you decide to keep it………..More beer next week.

I loved them

Great read Snatty...wish you'd post more though, I love them old "I used to sell crap and this is how I did it" stories.

great stuff!

Ah it is a life problem......too much to do and too little time........or I am too lazy........or I like to take my time over posts.

Anyway this thread is all about long, slow meanderings through life so it is going to stay at one two posts per week max.........I am glad you like the stories though. It is amazing when you sit down and start each post how much I have to miss out.....maybe I should really look at doing a complete book

maybe I should really look at doing a complete book
[/quote]

Damn right you should, you can put me down for a copy.

So as we now know there are most definitely nine steps to every sales call, well actually there are sixty three that is sixty three sub sections to the nine steps. You have to learn them all. You can be tested on them at any time. To start though you are given to the gentle care of a trainer.  You basically had to shadow them and they did the whole call. So what was a call?

Well firstly you had to sort out a day’s visits. This meant going to the large container of accounts and finding twelve accounts that were a) geographically suitable and b) had some sort of opportunity to sell something. It was as I was trying to find twelve accounts that I made my first discovery. They were not in any particular order. Six hundred multi coloured plastic folders randomly placed. Only one thing for it I turn the whole lot upside down and tip the contents onto the lounge floor at exactly the same time as the key goes into the lock of the front door signalling the return of the future Mrs. Snat. Now the lovely Anne Marie has come a long way in the last sixteen years. At this moment in time she was a little bit nuts about neat, tidy and order. When I mean a little bit nuts she was of course worse than that. I mean what sort of person pulls the spines of all the books out so that they are all level with the widest book.
This was still fairly early in our living together phase and you know what it is like. Not only that but I had moved into her territory and there had already been some conversations as regards squeezing the toothpaste from the middle, leaving my shoes in the middle of the lounge floor, a continuing weakness of mine and how much space I could have in the wardrobe. The great news was that Anne Marie was open to negotiating as a basic form of communication so we found middle ground.

Anyway here I am in a sea of plastic mayhem with my wife to be walking through the door. Honesty is the best policy. It is.......honestly. So I explained how I slipped and the box turned upside down and I would clear it up and sort it out at the same time and bless her to bits she kicked off her shoes and mucked in and it took us no time at all. So three hours later the files are all in good order and we have found twelve good calls. Now all I have to do is phone the first three calls.  I have to call three perfect strangers and book meetings to see them at 9am in the morning or 9.40 or 10.20. Now I have always had a healthy disdain for the telephone. Really not sure why, but I do like to be face to face with people.
Nothing for it so I phone the first pub and ask to speak to the licensee by name and explain that I am from Guinness and can I meet him at 9 in the morning and that I have a proposition for him that will increase his profits. He dwells for less than a nanosecond and gives me the best of all buying signals and tells me to “---- off”. He tells me why he isn’t going to go to bed in the early hours of the morning and get up to see a jumped up little ---- from Guinness. Well that went well. Better try number two. By some stroke of luck the licensee says yes no problem come on in and he will have the kettle on.

With my new found confidence I phone the next one and he says yes too. Then I phone a replacement for the one that said no. The replacement says yes and we are up and running. I need to make these phone calls every night. The first three calls of every day have to be booked in because the pubs are shut. A month or so in I realise that all you need to know is delivery day and their preferred time and make a note of it on the call record card and you will always get a yes.
So to my very first call. I have planned a day close to home and I pick my trainer Clive up from his hotel in Hendon at 8 am. Clive goes through his presenter and shows me how he is going to use it. We then go through my presenter and bless him Clive shows me what order it should be put in. So let’s go through the nine steps and what they involved as Clive and I walk into my first public house as a representative of Guinness.

Preparation involved having everything ready in your case. Point of sale. Wire clippers. Dummy font. Record card. In your car you had a whole load of other stuff. Beer mats, Bar towels, even drip trays. In fact your boot is full of crap. As is your garage. Clive and I are prepared. He has gone through everything that he is going to do in call. I am totally lost.
Approach was all about looking at the property on the way in and spot POS opportunities. Look at the bar area for font positioning and the opportunity of placing a dummy font. Check which bottled beers are on the shelf but most importantly introduce yourself to the licensee with a benefit statement. So in goes Clive with the little classic “Hi my name is Clive Shutt and I am going to show you how you could gain extra profit with Guinness products”. Now this is the nice licensee who promised a cup of tea and already a look of “do me a favour” shoots across his forehead. We move swiftly on to the outlet check at which point we are going to check the equipment in the cellar. It gives us a great opportunity to count the number of kegs in the cellar. Now this is exciting as I have never been in a pub cellar before. Okay it is not very exciting once I get down there but there are lots of tubes and bits and kegs and low pipes and manage to take the first of many bashes to the cranium.

After the excitement of the cellar we have to do a temperature check. So we have to ask our nice licensee to pour out a half of Guinness which to my gobsmacked amazement he does without question. Clive whips out his thermometer and bangs it in the Guinness (we will do a whole bit on temperature and why this is a complete and utter waste of time as regards quality in a later post) . We check the bottles of Guinness Original and Kaliber to make sure they are in date and the foils are in good nick. We get the pricing for all beers. We have a cup of tea made for us.

Then we get to the presentation. Clive does a wicked presentation. Honestly....no buts. It is really good. Slick with benefits on every point. He sells in a buy five cases get one case of Kaliber free deal. Gains agreement for a cooler under the bar and for POS renewal. Leaves half a dozen bar towels. We thank the landlord for his time and go back to the car to fill out the administration. This for me was amazing Clive had gone from presentation through close POS and departure drill so seamlessly that it was not discernible that there were any stages at all.

So as the week wears on I slowly but surely have to do more and more of each call and by the end of week two I am doing calls all on my own. Versed in the Guinness ways. Totally indoctrinated in a process that actually works. From here on in it is sixty calls a week. Forty selling hours a week and a shed load of paperwork in my own time. Next week’s Guinness instalment on Thursday is one of my top three most embarrassing moments ever so you just know it will have huge cringe worthy value.

So to fat club. Well there was no fat club for me last week as I was holidaying in sunny England.I will write up all about holidaying in England this Thursday. It will include the steamy thought of me writhing on a bed for four hours. No fat club this Thursday as I will be in Germany. What I do know is the following. The scales this morning read seventeen stones seven pounds. Now if they are to be believed that would be 67 pounds OMFG................

67 pounds! Almost without trying, of late.

Brilliant - like that Post.

Roll on Thursday.

well done phil, wtg.......

I worked @ guiness park royal, (part of the office refurb job) about 17 years ago

salemen always left promotional stuff out, loads of it in boxes thx  ;whistle;

That would be the marketing team...............useless sods.  Going to have a whole post based around a group who came up with the classic term paradigm shift....real rant to come

Sixty-seven pounds is a fantastic achievement already, already.

Another great post Phil.

I had to supress a couple of noos in the last few days as this thread was in the murky and unseemly depths of page two.

Well Done Phil,

When do you start maintenance , do you still dream of lettuce ?

from Crow

I really haven't set myself a goal or a target in that way yet. I reckon I know when I will be ready and will go from there.....

Of course the four hours of writhing on a bed was my own fault and was exceptionally painful. Rachel needed picking up from Hertford as she had deserted the family holiday to go on Brownie Pack Holiday. So the old snatmobile needed juice as bless them the company pay for my petrol. So I leave our lodge in South Cerney and drive the three miles to the local 24 hour Tesco. On the way in I spot a Macdonalds. I haven’t been into a Maccy D’s for a very very long time. I just couldn’t help myself. I know it is weak but I am just a flawed bloke trying to get some control of my life. So on this particular day I had no control. I did though have a quarter pounder with cheese and small fries.

So after the initial adrenaline surge of doing something naughty I am three quarters of my way through this taste sensation when I realise that the taste sensation is not that great. In fact for not that great read pretty unpleasant. Way too sweet. So I throw the last quarter in the bin with the fries. Now I really am sick. Throwing food away, what is that all about. Anyway full of guilt and petrol me and the snatmobile head back. About an hour later I feel a little weird, which then changes to continual gurgling and then moves on to gut wrenching pain. Five hours later the pain starts to recede. Now there are almost certainly a large number of reasons for this but I have decided to major in on the fact that I no longer like Macdonalds........now there’s a thought. Also I had no wish for any sort of Coke product. I used to drink about three cans a day. I have had no wish to drink it at any time on the diet.

So British holidays. We hadn’t done one for a while. Anne Marie likes the sun and can sit for hours. I end up reading endless books. Adam gets bored. So this year we took a four bedroom lodge on Summer Lake in South Cerney. It is part of the Cotswold lake complex and what an absolutely fabulous setting just four miles south of Cirencester. Wildlife everywhere none of which I could name except for the little bloody mosquito that decided to make a dot to dot picture on my leg which I dutifully managed to join up by vigorous scratching.

So what did we do? Well having turned the Skoda into the Cooklins version of a Tour De France support  vehicle with four bikes on a roof rack we did loads of cycling. Mostly in the rain but as we all had waterproofs it really did not matter.  The kids went on a huge float pulled by a speedboat called an exscream which they loved and Adam later in the week found wake boarding being pulled by a cable which he enjoyed so much he did on four separate occasions. There was something strangely therapeutic in watching him set off perfectly, get round corners one and two but go into total wipe-out mode on turn three. It took him twenty minutes to get back from turn three. I sat and read my book which is currently Bill Bryson’s tome on Shakespeare.

The music played out of loudspeakers most of it new and by bands I did not know but I quite liked most of it and the regulars were really laidback and friendly. The only downside was the number of wasps. There were loads of them. After a while you realise that they leave you alone if you leave them alone and I started to relax. I sat back in my chair and watched my son struggling back to the dock with his kneeboard on his shoulder and rested my arms on the chair and duly crushed a wasp with my elbow. How lucky was that. The skin at the elbow is the least sensitive of all and it still irritated like buggery. By the end of the week Adam was doing lap after lap and enjoyed it so much that he has already dragged Rachel and myself up to Milton Keynes to have a go there.

I also managed to persuade the whole party that a trip to Symonds Yat, a full hour’s drive away was worth the effort. Well let me tell you it took some persuading. Anne Marie’s idea of walking in the country is anywhere laid with concrete. I mean I tried to get her to change her shoes and get some waterproofs but she just was not having any of it. We stop for lunch in Ross just round the corner from where I used to live in Redmarley d’Abitot. What a great name for a village. Anyway it looked like it was going to rain, no surprise there, and the doubters pushed one more time to abandon the trip………….this man was not for turning.

Onwards we go. At this point the sat nav decides to play a few games. Now all of you older members may well remember the first time I used the Sat Nav and got the car beached axle deep in sand in Spain. Well bugger me there is an East and West Symonds Yat and I am not sure which one to take. Purely by luck I take the right one but if you asked me now which one I took I could not tell you. We get to the car park and the heavens opened. I offer to Anne Marie that she can stay in the car and Adam and I will go up to the viewing point and come back but “she is here now”.

We stagger up the hill from the car. The downpour finishes and we reach the viewing point after five minutes uphill walking. There are so many views in Britain that absolutely take your breath away but let me tell you ladies and gentlemen this is right up amongst the very best. I will not spoil this thread with a photograph because no matter how good a photograph is, it just cannot take in the full majestic scenery, the way it plays on your other senses of sound and smell. We find a bench after moving to a second viewing point and just sit looking out over miles and miles of this green and pleasant land just totally at peace with the world.

Eventually we move on and walk for a couple of miles and of course Anne Marie’s shoes get ruined. Of course it is my fault. Why she is wearing £80 shoes to walk in the country I have no idea but I am so at peace at this moment in time I take it on the chin.  I will go back on my own soon and just sit quietly breathing in fresh cool air and watch the scenery for half a day or so.

It was a terrific holiday and the weather did not change that in any way. Adam thought it was the best ever and the only downer for me was that Rachel was not there for the whole week. I always miss the kids when they are away as they are such tremendous company.

So to fat club or rather not. As I write this I am back in Krefeld for a pan European meeting which will go on until Friday night. Not sure what my weight is but I do know this. I can lower the tray on the airplane seat and it doesn’t touch my stomach anymore…………..oh happy days.

Please stop here snat. You're writing can't possibly continue at this standard and I've run out of superlatives.

I would stop honestly I would but not until I can eat what a normal person from the thin religion (aka the new inquisition) can eat. I have to join the thin religion as fat people never blame themselves, are lazy because they do not exercise, are a bad example, and should be put through terrible torture until they promise to change their ways. It is enough to make an aging rebel go "stuff it I am going back to the world of the big bloke". This week alone I had to listen to some prat from the Conservative party tell me how it is all fat peoples fault that they are fat. Of course it is and they all know it regardless of what they say but exactly how does ramming it down their throats inspire them to go and do something about it. Yet another sanctimonious politician who should go and do something more useful like become a traffic warden........anyway you really want to read next weeks post I think it might be reasonably funny. I just started writing it as I am stuck in a hotel room and I am bored of forecasting...............

Top posts again Snatty.

mcD gives me heartburn and stomach aches as well..and I've eaten some filth in my time..it must be evil.

Top effort and top writing :)

Hi m8

 we all missed you in the PRIMO tonight, guess you did not make it back in time,  unlucky m8

from crowy

Top work Snatty, a truly remarkable effort. I'm stuck around the 16st7lb mark, which is about 2st above what I should be for my height, but I'm never going to see that weight again. You'll be below me for sure in a couple of months at this rate, ffs.
John McCririck is my kind of fatty. He said he'd never employ someone who's overweight as they're basically lazy and unreliable. Not sure about the unreliable bit but I can see why that might be true in some cases. Lazy is right though. If I cut out beer and kept doing what I do now at the gym I'd hit 14st7lb in a few months but it's never going to happen. Laziness whichever way I want to dress it up.

Law of sod I am afraid. Stuck on an air berlin flight that refused to take off......got home after 10pm........oh well maybe next time

No mate not laziness. When you are ready you will do it, but not until you are ready. It is priority setting. Fat people are not lazy they just have different priorities. Thin people are dieting all the time. In fact they are so used to dieting they do not even know they are doing it............ anyway I now know that like everything in life it is just down to getting your attitude right

'Thin people are dieting all the time'

LOLOLOLOL....

try the stress diet it is the nuts way of losing weight,ive shed 9lbs so far ..

Keep your head up mate. I know it is tough right now.....

no worries phil, the weight on my shoulders keeps my head well up.

No bagles to celebrate your Sky Open third tonight please. I lost about a stone when my AQ was cracked by the Q9 of an inferior player. FFS
Same old nonsense...

A fun night was had by all........especially me. The legend continues coming back from 4000 chips with blinds 10k 20k

lol i enjoyed it  ;hattip; the q9 was class

n1 phil

ul chompy

So where were we? Ah yes I was coming to the end of my first two weeks of training. Clive was about to go back to Cornwall and I was taking over my patch for the first time on my own. My fears about being able to do the job or learn the various parts of the call were fading fast. I was a proud wearer of the Guinness tie which was uniform by the way. So much so that we always wore it when in the field, even at England matches, but I think we will cover off football and black beer next week.

No today I want to cover off the Guinness conference. Now the conference was always a major event. We would have a big presentation followed by being split into Northern and Southern region at which point there would be a large sit down dinner. The only problem with the large sit down dinner was that it was free bar and the following day was followed by a regional meeting that had to be attended. Work hard, play hard and all that.

So I go off to my first ever Guinness conference. The job is going  well and I am hitting my numbers. The main event is being held in Birmingham and after the regulation brain washing session by senior management showing where we are going, and how we are doing, there follows one of the funniest guest acts that I ever saw at any business function. Guinness brew Kaliber. Kaliber were sponsoring the whose line is it anyway roadshow and they were all there. I laughed………..a lot. I am still madly in love with Josie Lawrence. There is just something about intelligent women that sends me all weak at the knees. By the way quite the worst piece of judgement at a conference happened at a Burton’s conference. The room was full of young men and who come on as the star turn but none other than the Beverley Sisters….what on earth were they thinking of when they booked them. The whole South East region got up and walked out.

The main presentation ends and the north and south need to make their way to their respective hotels. The north head to the Belfry and the south go to Chateau Impney. Now I knew lots of back doubles out of Birmingham and I got to the Hotel early.

I let the concierge take my suitcase, well hold all, and show me my room. “This is the cupboard sir, in here is the bathroom and you have a lovely view out over the grounds”, I tip him thinking I could get used to this as I look out over my twin double bedded bedroom. I unpack which takes all of thirty five seconds, I start running a bath at full steam, I turn on the TV full blast so that I can hear the sports news over the bath. Priorities…..priorities. I get undressed and I do mean fully undressed, and run a sink of water so that I can shave and with white lather all over my face the concierge sticks his head back round the door and says “and this is your bathroom sir”. At which point a colleague of mine Leo comes into the bathroom. Well I am in the altogether’s and the towels are on the far side of the concierge and Leo so I just turn smile at Leo and say “well I wasn’t expecting that”. I might have had some clothes on if I had been warned that we were sharing rooms but nobody had warned me. Poor Leo could never quite look me in the eye again, strangely it didn’t bother me that much.

So shaved, clean and suited Leo and I go to join the rest of the region. There is rather a lot of the black stuff being drunk. In fact the only people drinking lager are women. My first conference and I stayed up all night and drank somewhere in the region of fourteen pints. Bloody hell a paddling pool full of Guinness. Not only that but I am supposed to stay awake all day, contribute fully oh and then drive home tired and drunk. I get through the day without falling asleep but phone Anne Marie and book myself into a Travel Inn overnight.

Now this acquiring of a taste for Guinness does not come naturally for most people. It is after all a very bitter drink. At this time, the Guinness in the UK was brewed at Park Royal. Park Royal was an amazing brewery. It was set up on a slope so that originally the raw materials went in at one end of the brewing process and Guinness came out the other and the whole process was powered by gravity. There were also cows at Park Royal which meant the land was still charged at agricultural rates.

Now  even during my rugby playing days I had avoided Guinness. Newcastle Brown was my poison of choice and failing that a strong lager. After leaving school I always found a couple of Newcies before the match  would wipe away the possibility of any pain. Now in my first two weeks at Guinness I realised or rather Clive taught me that the best time to do a taste test was first thing in the morning. What you did was line up six bottles of Guinness Original. Check their labels. Make sure they are in date and then dear reader open one of the bottles and taste it. Now this was okay for Guinness Original but let me tell you the first time I did it with Kaliber the fridge had been off for some reason. One of the top ten worst sensations in the world, drinking warm Kaliber at 9 am in the morning. It is similar to that moment when you are about to hit something in your car and you realise just before it is going to happen, but you know there is nothing you can do about it.

Now some time ago I talked about new improved recipe. New improved recipe hit me when I was at Guinness. They changed Guinness Original. Commercially they probably had to as it was a live beer in the bottle but let me tell you in hardcore Guinness land which was where I was working, I took bucket loads of stick. You see live beer lasts about 28 days in the bottle as it continues to ferment. To make it last longer Guinness decided give the product extra longevity by pasteurising it. Well this was the new improved recipe except it wasn’t. It changed the flavour considerably. In fact it was a paradigm shift in downward selling. This classic was only surpassed by Holsten Pils “Good but not that good” campaign. People took the message and decided that if it wasn’t that good then they weren’t going to drink it. Killed the brand faster than filling the bottles full of weed killer

Now temperature had to be tested in all calls.  What you did was run off half a pint and stick your thermometer into it. Now beer used to be ambient and then coolers came in because people prefer chilled drinks. Brewers like chilled products because ladies and gentlemen you can drink more. Guinness worked out that lowering the temperature from between 12 to 14^oC to something between 6 and 8 meant that your average hardened session drinker could drink three pints more in a session. Please be under no illusion, drink aware campaigns do not stop the fact that the job of a brewery is to sell beer, end of story.

Back to the old thermometer then. Well first call of the day the temperature would always be high as the beer would have been in the pipe overnight. If the temperature was over 8 to 10 degrees you had to check the cooling. Now a lot of the time the coolers were great big things near the cellar that had multiple beer lines going through them,. If the Guinness pipe was going through this cooler then no problem. If the pipe misses this cooler then we had to get it connected if there was a spare input/output line. If not we had to sell additional under the bar cooling. This was surprisingly easy once you showed the amount of extra profit that cold be earned from lowering the temperature and that there was no cost to the publican. Sold in lots of coolers to pubs. Sold in lots of Kaliber. Lots of Kronenbourg 1664 and even a little Harp.

So next week, we will discover what becomes of Clive, football and Guinness and maybe a few stories from some of the pubs and areas………have to be careful though as I wouldn’t want to upset anybody and nothing does that faster than describing their home area as a turd infestation.

So to fat club. I am hitting the wall my dear friends. We are at twenty miles into this marathon and I am fed up, bored, looking for excuses to cheat. I mean let’s be honest I have come so far. This in itself is a victory. Then the other side of my brain takes over and tells me to take control and see this thing through to the finish. It may take longer but I will not stop this process now or in the future. I may deviate off the straight and narrow but I will always come back quickly to the straight and narrow. I am not going back to twenty two stone. I like the fact that I can move around, use the seatbelt on an airplane and choose clothes rather than just accept that there is a website where I can get a shirt, or my suits have to be made to measure. Was it my fault that I became so big. Only in so much as I did not want to address other issues in my life that were driving me there. The politicians and popular thinists are wrong. Big people are not lazy and people in my office are now aware how sizeist modern society has become.

Hazel O’Connor’s haunting rendition of    Will You is cascading into my whole being as I drive to fat club, funny how I always turn to a bit of sax playing when I am troubled. I go up the stairs and in honesty three weeks is too long without the comfort of the group. Onto the scales and ladies and today I weigh    17 stone 7 pounds a total loss of  67 pounds. Honestly I cannot believe how far I have come or how much fortitude I have discovered. Life changing is really hard, really really hard. Even when I reach a weight I will be happy with it is only the beginning or rather moving from the marathon to the triathlon…………but the rewards are great…..believe me.

bendigedig

Indeed Sir..............though I did have to look it up..........this site is such an excellent education

Yet another great post Phil, and well done last night too.

As for the diet, well it's simply astounding.

+1...don't know what you did last night though

Don't know....went to fat club....came home and came second on sky........mind you came 3rd on Monday. I just love hearing Tikay get my name wrong......oh and he renamed me slimmyramus

2nd and 3rd in one week?..Don't worry..you'll crack it one day mate.

and chompy was still moaning bout yr Q9 LOL

Hazel O'Connor's "Will you" eh?

I didn't know you were a fellow sax maniac.

I know this is going to sound mad but I am about to go out and learn how to play a tenor sax. I haven't picked up a musical instrument since I was 11 about 34 years ago. I just want to prove to myself that I can go and do it. The only problem is that I am not sure that Mrs Snat will be able to put up the screeching awfulness of the early Snat sax years. My soul though is always soothed by the sound of a tenor sax..............oh and Tikay getting my online name wrong

Slimmeramas suits you imho.

Well what a strange week it was. I hadn't played any poker since the UKGPT and to be honest hadn't really missed it as I was busy with the other things. On Monday night I was at home as Mrs. Snat was out, we see each other one night a week for a good old fashioned marital argument...........sometimes we get on famously. Anyway I was at home and happened to be on line and went into my sky account where there happend to be 52.65. No idea why it was there or how it got there, but the Open was about to start so I played it and by some minor miracle I finished third...........more to follow

apologies I had forgotten about my nieces second birthday party and had to leave sharpish as we were already late and what was I thinking messing about on the computer when they were all in the car waiting for me.........I wondered why the house was so quiet.

So Tuesday I played the open again and bombed out early and Weds I played a little live cash, only played live cash seven times in five years, and made a little money. Thursday I as you know went to fat club and came back just in time to play the 50 where I finished second for £1000. Friday bombed out early in the open and I decided I would play live on Saturday. So where to play. Well there was a two day event at The Western, The GUKPT Bolton and the deepstack at DTD all of which were useless as I was unable to play Sunday due to Addies rugby training form 10 to 12.30. Katies birthday party from 2.30 to 5.00 and then two Barmitzvah parties that would take up the rest of the day. Stop the rollercoaster I want to get off.

So the Vic had a sat for some of the EPT events which I would have played except that I could not have played any of the events. So what is on at Luton. Hmmm a £30 freezeout with an average of 55 runners. Bugger it I need a live game so it will just have to do. So I turn up and go to pay and find it is £45.50. How is this asks I? £30 entry, £10 bounty chip and £5.50 session charge. Now let me tell you anybody from Grosvenor who might read this. When you put the session charge up by £0.50 you made me stop playing any casino games and I will tell you why. Somebody in your organisation sat down in a meeting at some point in the past and said let's put up the session charge. Somebody else said "we can't as we charge quite a lot for a self deal tournament already and we only just put in these increased charges". So matey1 says "well if we can't put it up by £1 maybe we can get away with £0.50". Well done with getting away with £0.50 matey1 I am sure you are making more money overall, but from this punter you have lost revenue.

Anyway rant over I of course pay the £45.50 and sit down at my table with my 4000 chips. I hadn't been at a self deal table for a while. I like self deal on a small round table. Lots of mistakes on pots that can send people just a little bit tilty. Who is on the table next to me but good old Compo himself. You see there are no depths to which David and I will not stoop for a game. Actually he was there in the afternoon for sat for the Grosvenor Grand Prix......ho hum. Anyway there is a celebrity bounty of £50. Nobody knows who the celebrity is not even the celebrity. In fact it is a misnomer. It should be a mystery player. Anyway at 3.15 am we are heads up and the £50 has not been won. I have a third of the chips. I wait to see if the other player wants to suggest a deal as I never start these discussions. He doesn't. We play rock hard heads up poker for all of 3 hands at which point I have all the points..........and the bounty which was on my head all evening. Yes ladies and gents I am the first player in Luton on a Saturday night to carry the bounty through.

Oh and before you post it, this is another look how great I am at poker post but it has been a fun week and actually I would like to post a big THANK YOU to all those people I met last week who told me how wonderful I look. It felt really good. Also a big thank you to all the railbirds on Monday and Thursday on Sky and a big well done to Joobie who cashed deep in the £50 +1 on Wednesday night. Those who can't play teach..........now there's a thought

well done Snatty :)

to off-set this obvious brag post I feel you owe us an extra Guinnes story though :)

67 pounds? That's equivelant to almost 34 bags of sugar! Awesome.

And I have only, right now, realised that I always say your name wrong on the Show - I say "snatimaras" when in fact it's "snatiramas". Oops.

Sorry.

I must say, though, I barely recognized you when we bumped into each other last week.

Blimey!  You're doing great!!!  You'll have to track me down at the bash because it sounds like I won't even recognise you.

It's okay I have been called far worse sir and I know it was genuine error............. There was nobody more surprised than me as I walked through the door to see you there...............I am looking forward to the bash though as it gives me the chance to thank lots of people who have supported me this far.

Just for you dear boy and having read my obvious brag post again I feel I owe you all this memory, but before I do I would like to point out that after one chat to me on Wednesday night Dingdells luck changed completely.........coincidence, surely not. So if you see me, come up and have a chat. If everybody does it at the bash we could keep this run going

Anyway as I have mentioned previously the Guinness marketing team were in honesty pretty astute if linguistically challenged. I mean paradigm shift was straight out of somebody's text book. One thing that they did come up with was the Dummy fount. Now as you are all aware lager sells more than bitter and bitter sells more than Guinness unless you are in certain strongholds of the black beer religion. To ensure that there was a Guinness presence at both ends of the bar we were instructed to place a dummy fount. A dummy fount looked like the normal dispenser but had a bottle opener behind it.

Now the fount at this time was a plastic replica of a straight glass of Guinness that was lit from the inside. Most pubs did not have the brass fittings that you see in the majority of places today, so finding space on the bar was sometimes challenging. Not only that but everybody elses founts were also lit so finding power or a spare socket so that it was lit was also troublesome. There was a target though so it had to be done. In our cars we had transformers, plugs, cabling, lightbulbs, wirestrippers, dummy founts and of course an industrial stapler.

So I am in call and I have identified the need for a dummy fount in a pub in Finchley. I get all the stuff out and in my suit and tie start this installation. Now Clive during my training had shown me how to do it all, and do it quickly, but I am a Jewish man and two things about the Jewish man that you should already know from this thread is that we can't dance and in addition we do not do DIY. Now the rest of the male society just think we are being clever in the fact that if you do something so badly you are never asked to do it again, but I can tell you we are genuinely awful at it and DIY.

It is going quite well and I have managed to wire the plug to the transformer and found a socket. I am now stripping the wire to connect the fount to the transformer. Connect it all up and bugger me if the fount doesn't light up just like it is supposed to. Fix the fount in the desired location using the clamp between a Skol (I don't even know if Skol even exists any more) fount and the bitter fount. It is at this point that the trouble starts. You know what I am talking about. Job done, getting a bit cocky, chatting up the antipodean barmaid as you do, when I suddenly realise that having stapled the wiring in place using industrial staples, the wire is now too short. Gorgeous blonde laughing at my jokes suddenly realises the problem and makes sure that I have an audience of the whole bar.......well the dozen or so that are in there.

So I pull the cabling out and I do it again. I am shaking and blushing and suffering terribly. All I can think is that it can't possibly get any worse as I am stapling the wire back to the underside of the bar at which point ladies and gentlemen I realise I can't move as I have stapled my Guinness tie there as well. To this day the stapling of the tie to the underside of the bar I regard as a miracle. I mean the tie defied the laws of gravity to get there. It had to. I can't find the correct descriptive word for the shade of red I turned, crimson would be close.

After a couple of minutes I have composed myself enough to a) extricate the tie situation and b) finish the installation. I think looking back on it the good lord was just showing me the error of my ways in chatting up the very good looking barmaid and I hope that this fairly embarrassing interlude makes up for the blatant brag post

 rotflmfao   Yep.  Yer covered now.  Cheers!  rotflmfao ;applause;

+1...rotflmfao indeed

Where there are sales teams, there are of course sales managers. Being a sales manager is of course a totally thankless task as you are trapped between the rock of senior managers and the hard place of your sales team. Now at Guinness as you know we had to book the first three and last three calls of every day and had to send them in on a journey planner so that there was a record of where you were going. This was so that your area manager could meet you at the first call of the day and either spend the day with you, or more ominously take all the call record cards from the previous day and mirror that days work.

Now the great thing about any job is that if an organisation want to get rid of you they pretty much can. With sixty three steps to the call, twelve calls a day, Guinness knew that it really was almost impossible to live up to the requirement. The company tell you that an audit day is there to identify training needs and of course it will. The flip side is that it also gives the company the ability to crucify you.

I arrive on this particular morning at a pub in Muswell Hill and there is Les my area manager waiting for me. Bugger it yesterday was a really bad day. Lots of decision makers missing and I only managed to do seven calls. Law of sod. Anyway Les takes my call sheets and after I explain to him what happened in each call, he disappears to retrace my calls. I spend the whole day thinking about what might happen. Law of sod two I have an absolutely electric day.

Les meets me at the last call and gives me some formative feedback. I don’t like it much but do what you have to in these situations.....keep your mouth shut and take it on the chin. In fairness it was not a good day. The following day I turn up at my first call in Holloway Road and Les is there again. Back to back audit days was unheard of in the business. Now I am really worried and the curse of imagination has me out of a job before the day is out. Could I have done this? I should have done that! Hang on a second, yesterday was a stonking day. Indeed at the end the day Les meets me and he is absolutely beaming, best mate stuff. No problems everything is great. So I have to ask “Les” says I, “why the back to back audit days?” and he goes on to tell me how Clive had been caught falsifying his workload and was sacked, and as he trained me, then they were worried that I wasn’t doing the job. Luckily for me I was doing the job.

So the job as a Guinness salesmen was going well. So well in fact that I get a promotion to become a business development salesman. The job of BDS was very different to that of field sales. Let me explain. Guinness does not own any pubs so their customers are all the major brewers. Now a lot of the pubs that other brewers owned at the time had so many restrictions as to what you could do in call, that it was not honestly worth visiting them except to get your call rate up. Can I walk into a Whitbread pub and put up a Guinness sticker......no I cannot. Can I put up a dummy fount?..............no I cannot. In fact all you could really do was take the temperature and give a quick presentation on the benefits of stocking Guinness.

Well Guinness realised that there was an opportunity here to influence managed houses by having teams working inside our major customers. It starts with Bass who were the most pro Guinness account. Bass did not produce their own stout so were considered a friendly. Whitbread produced Murphy’s at a brewery in Magor in Wales and Courage brewed Beamish in Ireland. Everyone wanted a bit of the Guinness pie. I was selected as one of two trial BDS’s for Bass. The trial went exceptionally well. At the end of six months it was extended to all of our customers including the most hostile one......Whitbread.

I was asked where I would like to work. I chose Whitbread. I like being in a hostile environment, somehow it makes me produce my best work. Now my boss was a guy called Vijay and we had an absolutely astounding year. We got Guinness back into over 150 Whitbread managed houses and really set back Murphy’s a long long way. It came to the end of the year and there was a review meeting with the main Guinness board for all the BDS’s and it was in this meeting that I came up with my favourite opening salvo for any presentation that I had given before or since. It went like this.....

“ So you would like to know how the business is doing? You have an Asian and a Jew selling an Irish beer brewed in England to a hostile brewer who brews their own Irish beer in Wales, and you want to know how it is going?”

Well nobody had ever come up with an opening like that and in this meeting I got absolutely every single one of my requests met. A golden time indeed. Now it would be logical to go on and talk about the football but I am my own man and I would rather give you this week’s Terry and June moment.

I got a phone call that meant I had to go to Preston at short notice. I knew it was going to be a weird day on account of the fact that it was chucking it down as I left London but as I pull into Preston there is bright sunshine. I am early for my meeting so I decide to do a little shopping. I park in the Fishergate car park. I have a look round TJ Hughes and buy a new pair of jeans............ooh I love clothes shopping right now. Then I pop into Argos and pick up a couple of USB memory sticks and a Maximuscle drinks shaker/beaker. It is brilliant and means I do not need to take my blender through customs any more, always a good laugh. I decide to pay for my car park and go over to the machine.

Now as I came into the car park I was furnished with a small blue plastic coin. I start going through my pockets looking for it. No joy. Go through my pockets again. Still no joy. Fifteen minutes fumbling around with shopping and pockets and find it has slipped into my wallet. Panic over. I pay. Stroll purposefully back to my car, raise my hand to operate remote control at which point the little blue coin slides out of the back of my hand and straight into the drain. Honestly I wanted to cry. Can I lift the drain?..........no screwed down tight. .bugger, bugger, bugger. I can see it but I cannot touch it. I have a receipt to prove that I paid. Time is now running short. I have driven for over three hours and I am now stuck in a car park. You just could not make this stuff up.

Back to payment machine. Press the buzzer. Explain the situation and ask if he will just let me pay for a missing coin. The meeting is worth hundreds of thousands, a missing coin will cost £12. No brainer. Pay the £12 and get out quick. At this point the good Lord decides to deal me the two of clubs. I am asked to wait by the machine and he will come down and help me...........I do not want his help. I want to get the bloody hell out. So I wait, and I wait and eventually matey turns up walking at a pace that you can only get away with outside of London.

I show him my predicament. He says “right I will just get a hammer and we will get it out in a jiffy.  Please let me out!!!!” says I. “No no don’t worry we will get the coin for you and save you the £12”.

Now at this point what I want to say is “I DO NOT GIVE A STUFF ABOUT THE £12!!!”. Instead I just thank him for his help. He gets his claw hammer. Totally and utterly bloody useless. It is bolted down tight. Can he not see this? Then his friend turns up. PLEASE LET ME OUT OF THIS NIGHTMARE!!!! Eventually we bend the drain back against the bolt and get the coin out and I get to the meeting just in time...........exceptionally harassed.

So to fat club. Or not as I am in Preston. I know this. I am now unofficially at 5 Stone of weight loss........5 STONE!!!!!!!  5 STONE!!!!!!! Just loving it!!!!!! Well right now I am but in five minutes I will probably fancy a bagel. I wonder if it is sunny in Preston today.

This.........


and this..........


Had me in stitches!!!!!   rotflmfao

You are doing sooooo good with the weight loss and your diary.  Keep it up!!

So whilst watching my son captain his rugby team on Saturday the following happened. Adam plays for OA's and they were in Luton playing in a curtain raiser before the game between Luton and OA's first fifteens so there were a couple of hundred spectators watching.

OA's kick off high into a late summer afternnons sunshine, the ball flies in a big arc towards a Luton player who in honesty does not look as though he is going to catch it. Well he does catch it but not with his hands but with his face. It bounces forward staright into Adams hands who raced forty yards to crash over the line for the first score.

The final score was ten points all in a hard fought game................ and those rare moments when everything just falls right for your son make parental watching just magical..........all the players came into the bar for a meal after the game. They mingled and talked rugby, Luton in shirt and club tie and OA's in the club Polo shirt........this is how sport should be played. No leagues until 13. Just skills training and matches. Competitive matches you can be certain but not the pressure of leagues. When will football learn.

A couple of weeks ago I was severely castigated by master Snat. He stormed into my bedroom and demanded to know why I hadn’t told him that I had met Ian Wright and Les Ferdinand……”Sorry says I…..must have forgot.” Well actually I had forgotten all about it.

What had happened was Kaliber had become one of the sponsors of the England football team. As such we had access to a number of players for personal appearances. Well miraculously I managed to get Les and Wrighty for two of my bigger Whitbread houses. I have to tell you they were both magnificent . Talked for hours to younger supporters, signed autographs until their hands must have ached and generally couldn't do enough. Now these were big stars at the time and yet there was no attitude at all which just goes to show you can't paint all footballers with the same brush. I attach the photos purely as a means to verify that this is not some weird part of my brain, that having been starved of carbohydrate (or not) for quite some time, has decided to rebel and make me hallucinate.

I have so many stories of meeting sports people at various functions paid for by other people that if I were to list them all I would definitely be in the realms of mad stalker. My all time favourite though was meeting Will Carling. Now I didn't like Will Carling from afar. He was young successful and captain of the England rugby team at an unfeasible age. Not only that he made a success of it. Well I was at an Epson event and Mr. Carling was the guest speaker. He had retired from rugby at this point and was doing the circuit.  After he had delivered his address which had me crying with laughter, I went up to him and asked him why he hadn't picked Dean Richards for the final in 1991.

Dean Richards was/is my all time rugby hero. He hated training, pointedly refused to do any conditioning work and yet when he was on the field was an absolute colossus. The ball was drawn to him like a magnet and he had an innate sense of where to be. It made it incredibly hard for the games administrators that their best forward didn't give a stuff for the new training methods. To refresh a few memories and to teach a generation who may not know, England had reached the final in England playing a particular brand of rugby. They had the best pack by a mile and simply squeezed the life out of the opposition. To the uninitiated it would have appeared boring. To the educated eye it was forward play of the highest order. England only had to reproduce it one more time for the final and the RWC was theirs. Australia were scared. Their pack was weak and they knew it. In football you may only get 20% of the ball and still win 3 – 0. In rugby if you get 20% of the ball you are on for a right stuffing. So the papers were quoting Australian officials all week  about how boring England were and how it would be terrible if they won playing such one dimensional rugby.

The last England forwards session before the final was by all accounts particularly feisty. Richards at one point had picked up Brian Moore, he played at hooker and was the pack leader, and threw him backwards onto his arse. It was fairly well known that the two players did not like each other much and I am led to believe that Deano thought that it was down to Moore that he had not played in all the matches. So I asked Mr. Carling and in fairness he said that he had got it wrong. His own gut instinct was to go with Richards but he was swayed by other peoples opinions.

Well England decided that they were going to win the final by throwing the ball around. They duly lost playing a game that the team had not practiced and their best forward was sitting on the bench. Dean went on to coach the Leicester Tigers and led them to four successive league championships and two Heineken European cup wins. The first one of which is still my favourite game of rugby of all time. He was regarded as a rather dour man by those who did not know him which makes this story that Mr. Carling told me all the more remarkable.

The story goes like this. After one of the training sessions some of the players had retired to the pub for a little liquid refreshment. They were in London and who walks into the pub but  Ross Kemp aka Grant Mitchell from Eastenders. Now Ross was bit of a rugby player, he played for one of the Essex junior teams at the time and his big hero apparently  was none other than Deano. Well Ross gets a drink and sits down at a table nearby. It was described to me that he sat there with his mouth open in awe of the people around him and staring at Deano. Well the England players finished their drinks and got up to leave when Deano walks straight up to Ross Kemp, puts a huge hand either side of his face, grabs his cheeks and says the immortal line “Not so hard without your brother are you!” and promptly walks out the bar. What a man.

The worst moment of sports corporate entertainment happened at an England  football match when I was with Guinness. We of course were wearing our ties. As we were approaching the turnstiles there were a group of youths of questionable intelligence singing at the top of their voices “No surrender to the IRA". Anyway one of the group spots the tie and surges towards me screaming vitriol. Now normally I would diffuse a situation with the classic line of how on earth can a Jew be a member of the IRA. This particular  member of the Hitler youth was not going to buy that  and just at that moment a plain clothes policeman drops this guy from nowhere. Blessed I tell you.

I think we have reached a seminal moment. The moment of glorious failure. The moment that every Brit strives for and somehow manages to achieve. I fear that the diet may be terminally off the rails and the use of the word diet now may be a misnomer. It feels very strange. On the one hand loads of people have come up to me in the last two weeks and told me how fabulous look. On the inside I am just a mess because I have not stuck to the diet. When I weigh in tonight I expect my weight not to have changed from my last official weigh in. 17stone 9 lbs or thereabouts. So in my head now I am working out if this is success or failure. I have not reached my own personal target. Failure…... I have lost 65 pounds. Success. …..I have not followed the diet strictly. Failure…… I can lower the tray on an airplane. Success.

As you can see right now mentally I am totally screwed up. I don't want to give up yet and somehow I feel like I am stringing all those around me along by not sticking to the diet and losing the weight…………more after fat club......maybe

A great tale there Snatty...as usual.

65 pounds?..that's an awful lot....I understand that setting a target wasn't what you'd like to do..but..if you're happy with your weight and only need to tackle the extremes of your...let's call it "problem solving eating" then it should just be a matter of keeping fit and going back to eating proper food, no?..Otherwise, when are you gonna stop with the diet?

Well I had a long long chat with one of the other guys in the group. I will let you know after this week as regards my plans for dieting going forwards. I feel a bit calmer than I did earlier.

I have absolutely no doubt that I will be fighting food abuse for the rest of my life in some way.

At official weigh in it was 67 pounds............

I'm not that much of a rugby afficionado although I do enjoy some of the international matches, but Dean Richards was always one of my favourites.

It seemed like every time there was a loose maul he would somehow emerge with ball as though by magic.

Now listen up you lot. Is there anything more annoying than somebody listening to an ipod too loud? No I tell a lie there is one thing. The start of a new relationship for a co worker. Right now my colleague and mate Guy is doing both at the same time and on top of which he is happy about it. He has just accused me of pissing on his parade but you know even I get grumpy occasionally.

Actually on the diet I get grumpy quite a lot. I get grumpy when I follow the diet as I hate the carbohydrate withdrawal. I get even more grumpy when I do not follow the diet as I feel I have acted in a weak way. I get grumpy when the kids argue. I get grumpy when Anne Marie asks me to tidy my clothes up. I get grumpy at work. I get grumpy when playing poker. There can be no doubt THINNER PEOPLE ARE MORE MISERABLE. Of course that just isn’t true, but it feels like it sometimes.

One thing that isn’t making me grumpy right now is the plan for Ads Bar Mitzvah. It is going well. The invitations were selected and printed some time ago. They are deep orange in colour. Why deep orange? No idea other than we have decided to go for an orange and black colour scheme. It looks cool and the little orange reply cards are rolling in. Everybody is logged on a spreadsheet with little ticks next to which part of the event they are coming from. Some are coming for Friday night and Shabbat lunch as well as the party on the Sunday. Loads of family are coming from all over the place but unfortunately the Israeli contingent can’t make it as one of my cousins is running for mayor in his town. I have not been to Israel for about fifteen years. It is too long. So in January we are all going over for a long weekend. Taking in the Barmitzvah of the son of our oldest friends in Jerusalem and then going to visit my cousins in Netanya. I just can’t wait.

So there I was watching the telly on Tuesday night. When Anne Marie comes out of the office looking paler than pale. Phil we have a problem. Oh says I, whilst still trying to concentrate on the acting genius that is Owen Wilson in You Me and Dupree. Unfortunately Anne Marie will not let it lie. “Phil I am serious we have a problem. The venue can only seat 200 and we already have acceptances for 210”. Head snaps up for a millisecond. She is genuinely concerned. I am totally ambivalent knowing it has to be an excel issue. Indeed it is double counting the numbers for lunch. I put the formula right. The colour returns to Anne Marie’s face but we are up to 160. It promises to be some party. The band we have booked is absolutely awesome 7 piece plus three singers. Secret news for my Blonde followers is that I have organised for Addie to play with the band. He will be playing Love me do and Get Back but only if he practices hard.

His life is a bit over full at the moment. He now know his Maftir (Maftir informally refers to the final section of the weekly reading of a torah portion from a torah scroll on Shabbat and holiday mornings and is normally about three sentences of hebrew long) and Haftarah (The haftarah "taking leave") consists of selections from the Hebrew bible specifically from the books of Nevi’im ("The Prophets"), and it is read publicly in the synagogue after the reading of the Torah on each Shabbat , as well as on Jewish festivals and fast days. The haftarah usually has a thematic link to the Torah reading that precedes it. The haftarah is sung and has related blessings before and after it.)
He is now working on Musaf. The Musaf service starts with the silent recitation of the Amidah (If you want to know all about Amidah go to Wiki it has a definitive entry). It is followed by a second public recitation that includes an additional reading known as the Kedushah. He is doing the public version.  He is playing rugby twice a week at OA’s. He is practicing guitar. He has been moved up to the top set in all subjects bar two at school. I fear my son may turn into a rather good leader of men. He can walk into a room of total strangers and captivate them instantly. He is 12. You would think he would be shy and awkward at that age but he is mature way beyond his years. I worry about the pressure but he keeps embracing it and pushing himself further. He has been asked to give the best friends speech at two other Bar Mitzvahs and has written them pretty much on his own. His writing is far in advance of mine or Anne Marie’s for his age.

Rachel is an academic hooligan. She picks out concept faster than anybody I have ever met. Knows all her times tables. She reached the final of the National memory challenge last year. She is a Sixer at Brownies. She plays football at school, is a member of CoSTA (City of St Albans swimming club). She is the tallest in her class, including all the boys which does make her self aware. She is very sensitive but very sharp. Oh and of course she is stunningly beautiful. Whilst Adam is wowing the room, Rachel just sits there weighing everybody up. Very accurately.

Then of course Anne Marie. The rock on which each of our successes is based. Not only does she hold down a senior position within BUPA but drives us all forward. She was a member of the board of management for the synagogue for nine years. She is strong in mind and to my eye radiates an inner strength and beauty that is quite captivating. We met on a blind date and to this day it was the day that changed my life forever. Truly a life partner.

Then there is me. The rascal. Well if you have read this diary you all know lots about me already so I think we can leave me to one sentence.

Then there are all of you. My poker mates. People who I genuinely like. I became a Blonde after meeting this chatty bloke down in Southampton at the South of England Masters. It was the first time I had paid the full entry of £500 and I was scared as hell as it was half my bankroll. Not great bankroll management I think. It was also my birthday. I final tabled and the chatty bloke got me interviewed. He also told me about this site called Blonde poker. I haven’t looked back.

I then happened to go to Walsall. I was in the hotel and went for some lunch and there was this big bloke sitting there. I had seen him around Luton but didn’t know him that well so decided I would go and have a chat. Tighty is somebody I am totally in awe of but please don’t tell him. Look at all the things he has done. Read his diary it is truly amazing.

I posted more on the site and met more Blondes. I went to my first BB in Walsall and won it. To this day it would have to go down as a modern day miracle. This site and the lounge area particularly are everything I am looking for in the eclectic mix of topics discussed, but more than that the support given by members to members is what my kind of society would be like. It takes on difficult topics and discusses them openly but with consideration of others. When Brendan passed away you could feel the collective sadness and Glenn’s speech at BB7 was beautiful and left many of us with a glistening eye. I love the bashes but do find myself torn between wanting to play poker and wanting to just sit and chat. It was so good to catch up with so many people.

I can’t invite you all to the Bar Mitzvah. I wish I could. You will of course be there. You will be there in every photograph of me. I could not possibly have got to where I am now without the support of all of you or this diary. The pm’s, the posts and all the positive comments last weekend made me realise how blessed I really am. I not only have my immediate family but I have this wonderful massively supportive super family with experts in subjects as diverse as horses, trains, the City, American football, colonic irrigation and the Gypsy way of life. You will all be there with me, even those who do not know me yet. You will be with me in the build up, through the up and coming Jewish holidays to the actual day itself and then my friends this diary will move on or rather drift away into the ether. I never meant it to go on for this long to be honest with you. It is a bit like the old comment about Bournemouth. You know the one about the retired person who goes down to Bournemouth to die and then forgets to.

So to fat club. No music this week as I am listening to five live on athletics. The way our athletes have been treated in the last four years if the radio is to be believed is shoddy. Poor administration and lack of consistency seem to have been the order of the day.
Up onto the scales. Total weight loss is now seventy one pounds. 32.2 Kilos. Shed loads. Starting weight 22 stone 4 pounds. Current weight 17 stone 3 pounds. This week I increased my walk from two miles to five. No stopwatch now. No need. Grinding my way to the money.

Haw Slim!! - that may be the point where you find out the bad side of blonde  ;nemesis; ;nemesis;

You write too well and have hinted at too many things we want to hear more about to stop now.

Agreed, we'll miss it if you stop!

what he said!

great writing as usual phil.

was great seeing you last sunday mate, you looked fantastic hope we get to share a table soon

woooohoooo on the weight loss snatty keep it up up m8 :) up phenomenal

I'm with them!

PS  Doing brilliant with the weight loss!  Couldn't believe my eyes...then I looked down and saw the shoes. 

+1 You know my feelings on this one Snatty...if only a weekly Guinness story..keeps us entertained, you see?

Snatty, you now weigh less than me, nice work. I will be inspired one of these days

It is the first day of Rosh Hashanah, and these days are known as the days of awe. Why the days of awe? Well the Rabbi's tell us that during this time it is exceedingly appropriate for Jews to practice repentance which means examining ones ways in anticipation of Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur is the Day of Atonement and signifies the day when God makes his decree as to regards whether you live or die for the coming year.

When I was a child it always made me a little bit nervous this time of year, after all if I did do something wrong, would I really be condemned to death. I didn't realise as a child that I could not be held responsible for my actions until after my bar mitzvah, if only I had known. Let me be honest with you, or rather here comes another Phil story.

Growing up in Leicester was truly a great experience. Why? Because I had a small group of very close friends, friends I had known since ... well let me put it this way I had known them since we had all been in prams together. They were then and still are my closest friends. I grew up with them and they know more about me than even my parents. Adam and Rachel met a number of my friends from Leicester at a bar mitzvah recently. They loved all the stories they were told about how their father was the bad boy in the group, as they always assume that I do everything that I am supposed to due to the fact that during their lives this has been the case.

Of course this wasn't always the case. There were times as a child when I was really almost totally uncontrollable and whilst this fills me with a certain amount of, I think the word is sadness but I'm not totally sure this is correct, it also helped turn me into the person that I am today. I will recite to you now a story that nobody except those who were there know about. During the high holidays, the high holidays being Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the community in Leicester swelled in size.

What this meant for us as children was that there were two services. The main shul service, which had all the regular attendees in it including our little cadre’s parents, and a service for the rest of the community and all the children. This service was held in the communal hall, which was where Hebrew classes were held every Sunday. Well we as a group knew our way round this building better than anybody. We knew that in one of the classrooms we could access a tunnel that led to metal grilles that looked down over the hall and service below.

So one Rosh Hashanah a group of us went into the classroom, climbed onto the cupboard, lifted up a chair, opened up the hatch and clambered up into the tunnel. I have to say it felt quite exciting. We knew we should not be doing it but we were doing it anyway. We knew we definitely shouldn't be doing it on Rosh Hashanah, and you have to remember dear reader that we come from generations of guilt but also love. Was this going to stop us? Seems unlikely. So there we were looking through the grille on to the service below, wondering what to do next when all of a sudden we come up with the following bright idea. We knew in one of the cupboards that there was a water pistol so we decided that we would fill it with water and squirt it on unsuspecting members of the community sitting below.

We find the fluorescent green water pistol and quietly sneak off to the gents and fill it with water. We climb back up to our perch above the service and take it in turns to squirt people that we don't like whilst they are trying to absolve their sins. Ladies and gentlemen let me leave you in no doubt whatsoever, that if you are going to commit a crime, make sure that whatever you do, you have some means of escape. It did not take long for the community to work out that it was not an air conditioning problem that was causing them to get wet but rather a group of children that were doing what children do best. What do children do best? They push the boundaries to the very limit of what is acceptable and then stomp all over them.

Now as we are in the period of repentance I felt it was only fair to come clean and say that it was my idea that we sprayed the community with water and that I am very sorry to my friends for not owning up. I know we all got into quite a lot of trouble over this one but when we all get together we still laugh about it now and will do so hopefully for many years to come.

Whilst I am on the subject of repentance I really should take the opportunity to apologise to anybody that I may have offended over the past year no matter how inadvertently, after all having a mind like a rapier does cause me to say  before thinking.............frequently.

Plans for the Bar Mitzvah gather pace. We all went out suit shopping last weekend. Then later on Anne Marie and Rachel went dress shopping. Listen I know this is all over the top but I believe that you can’t have the moment again, so live the moment to its absolute fullest and if that means spending your hard earned in a frivolous way then so be it. Adam is lucky that his grandparents are still alive and I have every intention of throwing a superb family party that lives longer in the memory than on the video.

We have started the speeches and I will post them after the event. Anne Marie thinks I am delivering the one that we are going to work on together, I think that the evil child is at work and the version that trips forward from my mouth might be a little different. These things are so tricky. It is a very fine line between making people laugh and falling flat on your face. Anyway we have sorted Adam out and used his words and ideas but just polished them a bit. He looks a little nervous now but he would never let on. He has his first league match this weekend and a match report will follow next week.

Rachel has all her outfits sorted and right now I can hear her singing in the shower. This always makes me laugh as she fights tooth and nail not to go in and the second the first jet of water hits her she starts singing at the top of her voice. Today’s rendition is from Rock School, no I tell a lie it is Hairspray.

So on to the diet. I have been pretty good this week. I have had tons and tons of positive strokes from the community who have not seen me for a couple of weeks. As you lot all know positive strokes are almost as hard to deal with as guilt. “Don’t you look great” really makes me want to go running for a bag of Cheese and Onion crisps, a flavour I hasten to add that I would not have touched with a bargepole pre diet. A calm week deserves some calm music so I put on a little Simon and Garfunkel which I instantly change to Lou Reed blasting out White Light, White Heat. I mean how could I look you all in the eye after using S and G on the stereo. Pop up onto the scales. Two pounds. Only two pounds. Whoa. Wait a minute. Your weight is still going down. 73 pounds total. Do not beat yourself up big man. Worse was to follow as the counsellor and I got into quite a discussion on the rebellious child issue. Ie. I really need to control this instinct hard to break my food addiction. I of course love rebellious child as he does all the fun stuff. Of course he also inspires me to break the diet........we will have to see.

Hi m8

I friend of ours came round and we offered her a coffee.

She said "No thanks I'm fasting"

We said " Oh, for how long"

She said "for many many weeks now   its been very hard"

Then she said" We wake up at 4 am every morning and have a full breakfast"

She explained that they only fast during the hours of daylight

I like that diet m8, the daylight diet

top post once again Snatty.

I've just speed-read it from start to finish.  A very good read, and very inspirational, particularly after sharing a (poker) table with you the other night and seeing the results first hand.  A hearty well done you.  I am on a pre-Vegas diet atm, which basically equates to "don't put any more on" and will obv eat well when out there, although usually do manage to lose weight out there skipping meals is so easy to do.

Anyway, when I get back, enough is enough.  I am now in the 20st club and I am going to give the Lighter Life a blast when I get back, here's a few questions for you if you wouldn't mind:

1. Side effects.  (more than normal) flatulence?  Halitosis?  Headaches?  Other?

2. Group hugs.  I share your initial apprehension, what is your view now some way in to the course?

3. Diet Buster moments.  Family occasions, meals out with work, dinner functions, etc, what's the plan?

4. Occasional lapses, medical/phsical/emotional impact of eating real food?

5. Plan for reverting to 'normal' (albeit the new normal) when you have got to your happy place?

6.  Anything else you would advise someone starting up to do?

Cheers Phil.

The way I write my weekly piece for the thread hasn’t changed since the very start. I sit down and just start typing whatever zings through my head at that moment in time. I don’t research it beforehand; I don’t change it much on review. I believe that this breaks every literary rule known to man. Miraculously and out of nowhere this brings me to the fast of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. A day full of rules, but actually only one that is important. Look at all of the things that you did wrong and genuinely repent for them.

The religion is full of rules. You can’t do this, you mustn’t do that, but really at the end of it all, the bits that I take are the ethical framework and guidance. Could I have got this framework in some other place, almost certainly. Did it have to be religiously inspired? Almost certainly not. As I sit back having fasted for another year, the reflective mood that has descended on me like an old friend come to visit, made me realise that so much of the time I spent with my family as a child was based around the Shul and the various festivals.

Take Yom Kippur. Do I remember it for the fasting? I remember it for the walk home along London Road with my Dad. For conker hunting outside Stoneygate Court. Just spending time chatting about this and that, school, the family, what my friends were up to. Just time spent together not realising at the time how cool it was. Now that Adam is up to it he walks home with me on Kol Nidre (the evening of the fast. Kol Nidre means all vows). We went conker hunting, talked about this and that, laughed a lot. Without consciously thinking about it the cycle continues. He has further to walk. It was only three miles to my parents house from the Shul in Leicester, now it is four and a half miles. We talked about the Bar Mitzvah and school and coping with expectation.

 Then we got onto more serious subjects such as, which girl he has his eye on at school and inevitably rugby. It was the happiest hour and a half I have spent for some considerable time. No pressure, no phone, no outside influences. Magic. We talked about the Kol Nidre service and the tunes, which he loved. It is a most haunting awe inspiring service for one who believes.

I slept well got up at eight, which is late for me, and walked back to the service. It was a wonderful morning and the mist was disappearing off the fields by the stables on Smug Oak Lane as I was walking down. I love the name Smug Oak Lane. I mean what is a Smug Oak and exactly what is it smug about.

 I stayed in the service for the whole day, thinking, praying, chatting to friends. Totally relaxed. You see the rub of it is this. The fast is not about fasting. The fasting is not an inconvenience. It is not even particularly hard; it is just a mindset that makes you want to embrace it rather than fight it. In fact I used a similar mindset on the diet, which involves embracing a change in my life and not worrying or resisting it.

No   the fast is about repentance. It is about taking the time to consciously look at the way you have behaved towards yourself and more importantly others. Some would say this is where the whole Jewish guilt cycle begins but trust me it doesn’t. What it does for me is make me realise that the old school report comment of “tries hard could do better” is still relevant. Particularly as I think I try harder now than I did as a pupil.

So to Rachel. She is amazing. Imagine that your brother or sister is getting the biggest possible party thrown for them. That presents are arriving all the time. That there is huge focus on the sibling. Maybe just maybe you would get a little bit jealous. Rachel has been fantastic. Beautiful and level headed, though I have warned her that when she brings a young man home to meet the family he will be getting extra long spaghetti and no knife if you know what I mean.

Tomorrow Rachel and I are doing a little road trip up to Leicester watch the Tigers versus the Ospreys. Stop for lunch at my sisters and then go to the game. I can’t wait as although it is great when we are altogether, when I get Adam or Rachel on their own somehow they open up that bit more.

So what’s news on the Bar Mitzvah? Well Adam should just about know it all in time. There are after all only three weeks left to go. I still need a suit and slightly more worrying is that Anne Marie is still looking for a hat……..the hat saga is absolutely doing my head in. It is a Mars, Venus thing. One head, one hat. How hard can it be? Well the West End could not come up with a solution and neither could Fonthill Road. I am leaving her to it now.

We also visited the Red Lion as we are all staying there on Shabbat. We have booked nine rooms for the religious members of the family. The rest will all drive. It should be an eye opener for some of those staying as they will be staying in rooms above a pub. For most it may be the first time that they have visited a pub for some time. Tomorrow Anne Marie and Adam go to the venue for the party to discuss the menus etc. I think we will have around one hundred and seventy coming……..should be quite a party.

And finally to fat club. New guy started on Thursday and he was very apprehensive. I saw a lot of myself in him. The excuses. The fear. Especially the denial. I am still having trouble with the denial, but I have a far greater knowledge and understanding of why I behave in the way I do than I did just a few short months ago. Here we go up onto the scales and yes ladies and gentlemen another four and a half pounds this week. That is a total of seventy seven and a half pounds……………feels good. You will have to excuse me now as I have to go and build a Succah……..what is a Succah? More next week

Just read through the complete thread:

a really


Thank you so much for sharing this with us all,

How do you fit that into just the one day?  :dontask:

usual tops read snatty.

1 question to you if you dont mind.

as i understand it from a piece of my sons homework

A bar mitzvah is to celebrate the start of being an adult for the son,

A bat mitzvah is to celebrate the start of being an adult for the daughter,

Personally I have never heard of a bat mitzvah? is the bat mitzvah celebrated equally?

It is an interesting one. When I had a bar mitzvah the girls generally did not have a bat mitzvah. Now the girls all have a bat mitzvah but they tend not to be as large. I have however started salting plenty away for the wedding.

Rachel will have a bat mitzvah where she will give a sermon to the whole community on the shabbat and she will have a party for family and her friends, so in honesty it is not as big but the studying is just as important

Great post as always Phil, and I must admit you do make me feel just a teensy bit guilty or is it jealous ?

Lovely read Phil. x

I bet the fasting was a breeze for you!

Sorry mate that is a genetic disorder and nothing to do with me.......the door is always open......just got to walk back through

Didn't really think about it at the time but the fact that my insulin levels are so stable probably meant that I found the transition to full on fast mode a lot easier than somebody with a lot of sugar in their diet. It was certainly easier than previous years. My Dad unfortunately had a bit of a turn. He had fallen asleep during the Rabbi's sermon up in Leicester and he woke with a bit of a start at the end when everybody stood up and passed out. My nephew was there to catch him luckily. There were also seven doctors in attendance within a matter of 10 seconds. My Mum said she felt quite sorry for the paramedic when he turned up because all the doctors were watching what he was doing.

Anyway he is fine and Mum and Dad spent the weekend in Cheltenham at some Dickie Attenborough interview or other........him being a Leicester man and more importantly Old Wyggestonian of my fathers generation. Oh and just for information if the fast means that you put your health in danger there is a law that states that you must not fast. Now the discussion on life in danger is very grey........... as the old saying goes, you can put two jews in a room and they will come up with three opinions

 rotflmfao rotflmfao rotflmfao

 rotflmfao Having spent a pleasant lunch in the pub in a wee Scots village - I reckon this means the Scots must be jewish - because they old boys up here are exactly the same.

A slightly different type of post this week. I know I promised a bit on Succot and building a Succah and I will probably go through this on Tuesday or Wednesday next week when yet again I will be with my colleagues in Germany dealing with some pan European meetings. During these visits I like to have something to do so I will put a post up then. Anyway I have been for some time struggling to reach my goals as regards the diet. This week has been particularly tough. I know that I have probably undersold some of the difficulties so today I redress the balance with a mail that I sent to my counsellor this morning with a response.


 
From: Cooklin, Phillip [mailto:phillip.cooklin@wacom.eu]
Sent: Thu 16/10/2008 09:53
To: Catherine
Subject: Stupid me
Hi Catherine
 
When I come in today I will need two weeks supplies as I have just checked my diary and I will be in Germany next Thursday. Could we repeat my order replacing vegetable soup with mushroom soup for the second week?
 
Also I will have the kids with me at weigh in later but I hope this is okay as I have to take Rachel to parents evening.
 
I am really struggling at the moment and sometimes I just find it easier to type it than say it. So here goes. I am still an addict. There are two key times in every day that I struggle with. One is at 4.30 pm and last week I thought I had it beat, but I do not yet. The other is at about 10.30 pm. The more I fight the cravings at these times, the more rebellious child comes out to play. As you and I know, I have more than my fair share of this particular character trait. So this week has been a failure and right now as I sit at my desk I feel that I have lost in the region of 78 pounds but I have not succeeded. I am frustrated with myself as I expect more from myself, and when I sit in the group I feel I have let them down as well. I know we all go down our own road but we all go down a collective road as well on a Thursday evening, so that would make me not much of a team player right now......not a positive feeling.
 
So I have some decisions to make right now. Do I give up or do I continue?
 
After much thought and if you can put up with me, I am not quite ready to chuck in the towel. The positives for me still outweigh the negatives. I like the fact that I have a waist, I like the fact that I have a choice of clothes, I like being able to go cycling or walking with the kids, and that Anne Marie is proud of me for trying to face up to my demons. We had a long talk about it last night.  I do not like the fact that I am not following the diet as it should be and the feelings of guilt that this generates. I do not like the fact that I should be where I wanted to be by now but because of my own weaknesses I am not there yet. I know I am going to have to change some things. No poker for quite some time as I think that this may be rebellious child's pastime. More exercise. A notebook to log down times and triggers of cravings. In other words I think today I will draw a line under old Phil and start over. I know it is the slippery slide of start over tomorrow and then next week and then longer and longer until you are right back to where you started from or worse. So we start now. If I deviate now that will be it for me. It is undoubtedly going to be really hard to do. You were right some weeks ago when you said "It is much, much easier to stick to the diet and not to deviate". Good old rebellious child played with that phrase to death. I think I may also visit my hypnotherapist to see if there is some reprogramming that can be done............
 
Thanks for listening even though you did not have a choice
 
Phil




Hi Phil,
 
That's fine re the order and the kids - did you want an extra savoury drink as well?
 
Re the struggle - yes you are an "addict" and it's good that you recognise it. I wonder if there's a part of you that thought you wouldn't be if you gave up the substance for a while. If you think you have it beat, that is the beginning of fooling yourself into going back into the substance. Do not give up because of a sense that you have failed - you need to reframe the failure into acknowledging that you are engaged in a struggle here, and even if you make a mistake, that is part of the process (not an excuse for the behaviour, but an acknowledgment that it's a tough one).
 
You fail when you stop the struggle (and then only really for as long as you give up - it's not a "lifelong failure"). Rebellious child doesn't go away (and thank goodness for it as well), but it can be talked back to, distracted, placated, and sometimes just told to follow the boundaries because that will serve a greater reward, or that it won't want the consequences of misbehaviour. With practice, and the less you give in to it, it can live within a structure. The behaviour usually gets worse for a time to up the stakes and see if you'll give in.
 
Keep patting yourself on the back for staying in the struggle, and talk back to the child from your adult. To strengthen your adult, it's about remembering you have a choice and that you have goals - how does what my child is saying fit in with my goal?
 
See you later.
 
Catherine


So there you have it. I have decided to keep going. I probably will avoid poker both online and live as it is just bad for me until these demons are channelled better. I make money but gain pounds. I would rather be rich in spirit right now. I shall miss the social interaction and I know the last time I made this decision it lasted all of 45 minutes. I think I need a period of calm and my antics at the table would rarely be described as calm. I shall of course still be on here as I always like seeing who is in form and chatting to you all.

So to the Bar Mitzvah. Well the pressure is starting to build. In honesty I have no idea why this is. I mean think about it. All we are going to do is have a load of our friends and family come and party with us. When I view it like that I really can’t wait. So this weekend I need to get my suit for Shul. We need to get Adams outfits altered…..length of the trousers. We need to pick up his shirt for the party…..okay this was well over the top and I promise you a piccie. Oh and I need to write a couple of speeches. Anne Marie still needs to get a hat but has tracked down her hat maker so we should be okay. In addition we will all be in Shul on Shabbat morning and Adam has a rugby match against Fullerians on Sunday morning followed by lunch. Adam has a friend from schools’ Bar Mitzvah party on Sunday night and Rachel has swimming at COSTA. So a pretty relaxing weekend all in all. Oh and Anne Marie’s car is going on Saturday morning for a service.

Some days I am enjoying life so much that I do not want to fall asleep in case I miss something. For all my trials and tribulations with the diet, right now is one of those times….

best of luck Phil x

We just don’t get it in the UK. I mean what springs to mind when I ask the question, What is a service industry supposed to be like? This week I had the absolute misfortune to have dealings with a company called DHL. It could just as easily have been any of the other delivery companies including the Royal Mail but it wasn’t. No this weeks story is about DHL.

Now Adam has been very lucky. We have a large circle of family friends, I provide the family and Anne Marie the friends and they have been, as is the custom, buying him Bar Mitzvah presents. Some have given money which will be useful as he moves into adulthood and some have bought actual presents, some religious, some not. Some have been bought from shops and  the people have popped in to deliver them and some have used the internet which entails delivery from a host of companies that believe that they offer a service.

Ladies and gentlemen if we really want to stop global warming here is an idea. Do not let these companies try to deliver to residential addresses during the day. Let’s think about this for a second. We have a product purchased for us and they not unreasonably send it to our home address. The delivery company has no idea if this is a residential address or not because you cannot tick a box that says residential address. So the package goes in the van and they try and deliver at the really useful time of 1.05pm. Guess what, nobody home. Wasted journey.

Package goes back to the depot 8 miles away. Very useful card saying you can pick it up from our depot but we wil only keep it seven days and then we will send it back to the vendor. So now imagine you are away on holiday and somebody sends you a present. At this point you do not know what it was that you almost got but you do have an illegible reference number written by somebody who failed the doctors school of handwriting course. It says please ring to arrange collection. Please do not bother. You can’t get through. Best just go to the depot.

So Adam and I decide to go to Borehamwood to pick it up. We find the depot and go into the parcel collection area. This is a misnomer of gigantic proportions. It should without doubt be called the DHL failure room. Firstly they have failed to deliver. Secondly they fail to have anybody there to welcome you. Thirdly they have a sign on the wall that says and I kid you not “PLEASE RING THE BELL. IF NOBODY COMES PLEASE BE PATIENT THEY MAY BE ON THE PHONE”. Now we know this is a bloody lie because nobody answers the bloody phone. We ring once. We wait exactly four minutes. We ring again. No answer. Another customer joins us. We start chatting and laughing and pushing random tunes on the bell. Still no answer.

After twelve minutes a young man eventually emerges from behind a white door. This guy is about twenty one and is a cross between somebody who has not been able to break out of the Kevin and Perry years and at the same time believes himself to be auditioning for a new part in Little Britain. Something like delivery with destiny, a company who might get a package to you sometime, maybe, oh alright you will get it yourself.

So I give him my card with the totally useless reference number on it. You will never guess the next question…………..”What is your address mate!!!”. Whoa….hang on there baldeagle…..you are trying to give me a package that you were supposed to deliver to me and you are asking my address. Is the world flat or something? Well of course I have to give in because I realise that this is going to be like trying to bluff Tom Myland off a pot….a complete waste of time. Eventually he does me the favour of going into the warehouse to find the package and sure enough after a relatively short period of time returns with it.

Ladies and gentlemen this is not a service. I am not even sure if it is a disservice. It is definitely hugely irritating and a complete waste of  scarce resources such as time and fuel. I think we should pass a law that states that all home deliveries have to involve a phone call to the delivery address or contact person and that these deliveries can only take place between eight and ten pm. Now that would be a service worth paying for.

This bonus post was brought to you from the Mercure Hotel Krefelderhof and has helped to take care of Tuesday night. Yes here I am back in Germany. Tomorrow night we are all going ten pin bowling………..can’t we just go out and chat like adults. Apparently not. Thursday night I will write my usual post if I have not been given a load of other stuff to do…….until then I leave you with this thought. Why does my car parking at the airport cost more than my flight?

What a read this Diary is Phil.

If I could write like you, well, I would.


Oh.....

Why does my car parking at the airport cost more than my flight?

Because flying has become ridiculously cheap, too cheap, because, even in these green-aware days, aero-fuel is not taxed.

And so, everyone - perhaps rightly, though I think not - moans about the price of car fuel, & the excessive tax & duty on it. But nobody mentions that aero-fuel is tax and duty-free, because it suits them, as they get cheap flights. The world has gone loopy.

So the festival of Succot has been and gone. The word Succot is the plural of Succah meaning booth or hut. This is to remind us of the booths or huts that the Jews used in travelling through the desert upon leaving Egypt. Now the leaving of Egypt happened in the spring so I am not quite sure how we get this festival at the start of winter. The Rabbi explained it in his sermon but it whooshed me completely. No surprise there then.

So dear reader. We have just gone through the fast and repentance of Yom Kippur and go into the fun of Succot. It is regarded as a mitzvah (a good deed) to build your own Succah. A hut which has two and a half walls and is covered in green foliage. No solid roofs allowed. This of course leads to two problems. Firstly the building of said structure and secondly the weather. Now it might be alright wandering through the desert for forty years to have no roof on your structure but we are in Europe. It always chucks it down during Succot……….you see it is not only a mitzvah to build one, it is a mitzvah to take meals in it. To study the torah in it. Have mates round and drink in it. We always get wet and becomes not much fun.

I decided once the kids were born that I would build a Succah. That it would be fun to build one. I was not going to buy a self erecting Succah that you put up like a tent. No not me, I was going to build one that could seat the family and friends. I would use the angle of the patio and a few fence panels and Bobs your uncle. So first you need panels. Off to the garden centre and no sooner said than bought, but they are a bit low so back to the garden centre to pick up some strong trellis that I can attach to the fence panels. Please do not forget that my normal level of DIY is maxed out in changing a light bulb. So off to the DIY store. I buy flat brackets and screws to fix the trellis to the fence panels. I buy the brackets to go on the wall. I buy some lengths of wood to connect from the side of the house to the far wall of the Succah. I make sure I have all the bits. I map out the whole job and get all the necessary bits. I get it right first time. Did you read that? I GET IT RIGHT FIRST TIME! I start the job. Drill into the wall for the external brackets. Put up the external brackets. Attach the trellis to the fence panels using too many brackets just to be safe. Join the fence panels together. Attach the panels to the wall. Attach the struts from the wall to the panel to hold the foliage for the roof.

It all goes up smooth as silk and then dear reader disaster strikes. It comes to my attention that two things have happened whilst I have been creating my masterpiece. The first is that the garden table is outside of this structure which can only be entered by going through the kitchen door. Not really a calamity but nevertheless very annoying. No it is at this point that I realise that the kitchen door is locked and I have just built my own made to measure open aired prison cell. Nothing for it. What I will have to do now is undo one of the fence panels from the wall and squeeze my svelte twenty two stone mass (this was of course pre diet) through the gap. Right about now my cup truly runneth over. The power in the portable power screwdriver dies. Bugger. Lucky it is not raining and then, all of a sudden, it was. It did cross my mind that the number of hurdles that needed to be overcome was in danger of making this a very good deed or not to be done at all.

Well eventually the trouble and strife gets home and I get let out from a real open prison and do you know what. I recharged the screwdriver and built the Succah. That year it rained every single day. I sat out in that Succah every single day and got rained on as a matter of principle. Succot has so many other memories for me as well. The fruit, the smell of lemons, the pleasure of  Simchat Torah all of these will have to be in the book I think.

Anyway yet again this week you should be careful what you wish for. There I was thinking that I did not want to go ten pin bowling and indeed my prayers were answered by one of my customers who suddenly decided that they needed twenty additional lines on their website oh and could I make sure that I fill out the sixty six line set up sheet for each product. So I spent the whole evening poring over an excel spreadsheet wishing I was playing ten pin bowling.

Well as I sit here tippy tappying on the old lappie there is only a week to go to the Barmitzvah and to say I am excited would be an absolute and total understatement. Even better than that Anne Marie has found a hat (not strictly true as she is having it made) and shoes and there is an air of calm that I did not expect at this moment. I of course still have two more welcome speeches to do but I will knock those out whilst watching Cardiff Blues versus Leicester on the Beeb on Saturday afternoon. I took Adam to Shul with his tutor to practice live as it were. I think it must have struck home because he made some basic errors that he would not normally have made, but on balance he did really well. So this week will be all about speech practice for me and Anne Marie, and Rachel and Adam. Got to pick up the suits which have been shortened as well.

We also did the table plan which is now finalised. Toastmaster is sorted, entertainer for the kids is sorted I will try and post more often through this week to give you a feel for the build up.

On the diet front I have been as I would have hoped to be, but not having any scales or weigh in facilities in Germany means I do not have any idea how I am doing this week. I will give you a guide in one of my subsequent posts. So that is all for this week……..shabbat shalom from the Fatherland

The children never cease to amaze me. It has been a lovely day in chateau Snat. We had to divide forces to conquer today. Anne Marie and Rachel headed off to the home territory of the Radlett United Synagogue which is kind of the middle ground of the right wing of the many factions that seem to have permeated mine along with many other religions. Adam and I headed off for the delights of Edgware reform synagogue. Somehow I never feel comfortable in the reform. For a start the men and women sit together. In the United they are separated out, so you have all the blokes just being blokes and all the wives trying to send cryptic messages to them that everybody else in the room can see.

The reformers kind of pick and choose which bits of the service are important to them and a lot of the prayers are in English. Nice language English but I prefer Hebrew. I don’t care if I do not understand all the prayers, after all I choose to believe in the almighty and that is not an idea that merits easy comprehension. Also the women in the reform wear kippot (Skull caps) and tallesim (prayer shawls). They also pray from the Torah. All in the name of equality. Now look there is no such thing as equality of people. Equality of pay is an absolute necessity based on performance regardless of who does the job, but equality of people, I don’t think so. Short people are not tall and vice versa. Should women be able to do the same things as men just because they want to? I do not agree with this ideal but then I still hold the door open for women to go through first. Sexist or good manners you are entitled to your own opinion.

In addition Adam does not like being in shul with me when he is with his mates. Cramps his style. So he and I decided that I would drive him to Edgware and pick him up afterwards. For once I did not argue and dropped him off. I then pushed off to Hatch End to pick up my dinner suit trousers and went home to find a trophy on the internet. The reason I needed to find a trophy will become clear after I post the speeches from the Bar Mitzvah which, unsurprisingly, you will have to wait a little bit longer for. I then go and pick him up and we pick up lunch on the way to Temple Fortune to pick up our other suits from Gilbery’s an old fashioned store based on manners and service. I know I paid more but if you want good things to survive then you have to support them.

We get back to home before the rugby starts. Leicester are abysmal. I mean really poor and unfortunately at one point I started swearing at the TV. Rachel explains to me very patiently that swearing a) upsets her and b) means I am not using my brain but my emotion. Nine years old and already has a better grasp of expressing herself than her old man. Funny in light of the Tikays diary thread about Giles Corens letter as regards the sub editors which I only caught up with this evening five hours after Rachel had admonished me.

Today was also Adam’s birthday. He is officially a teenager. It only seems like yesterday that I was holding him for the first time. It was 7.45pm on a Wednesday and West Ham were playing Southampton away.....funny what sticks in the mind. So tonight we all went out to eat. Or rather Anne Marie, Adam and Rachel ate and I had a savoury drink.

Adam really helped me today. You see I am one of those people that believe if you want to get an unencumbered view of a problem then you should ask somebody younger than yourself. They have fewer prejudices. I explained the problems with the diet, the cravings etc. and how I had been struggling for some time. Adam came back with this. He said “imagine you have a blank piece of paper, a ruler and a pencil. Draw a long straight line on the paper that is half the length of the page. If you are good you can rub a little of the line out. If you are bad you have to draw in more of the line. You are trying to make the line disappear. Every time you think you are going to be bad, you have to say to yourself, DON’T DRAW THE LINE. Interesting, normally one would say draw the line and start again. Anyway all day today I have followed his advice. It has been my easiest day on the diet for some months.

So we all went out for supper to our favourite Italian, Oscars in Kings Langley, Adams choice. We had a nice meal and we were getting back into the car. The clunk of the doors followed by the click of the seatbelts and then from nowhere Adam sighs and says in a voice little more than a whisper “Happy birthday Uncle Gerald wherever you are.” We all spontaneously started crying. You see Adam and Uncle Gerald share the same birthday and between you and me I see a lot of Uncle Gerald in Adam. You see I believe we never die as long as we are remembered and Adam without any prompting just proved me so very right..........

Wow. Just wow.

I hope you had shaved.....

I hadn't but adam had!!!!!

Anyway Anne Marie has pointed out to me, quite correctly that I should not have written about the Reform in the way that I did. She said they worship in the way that is right for them and I should show more understanding and tolerance....amazing woman Mrs. Snat. To anybody who I might have upset I apologise. Funny things words, once they are out of the box you just can't put them back in.

Okay just a quick update. Yesterday was very relaxed. The weather was damp or rather torrential. The father was dutifully watching son at rugby training, when twisted round too fast and ended up flat on his backside in pool of mud. Worse than that had only got one towel to cover Adams seat to take him home. Took trousers off and drove home in underwear which were rather pleasant looking white thermal long johns.

Then we went to the venue for next week’s extravaganza (actually this week’s party as it is now Monday) and paid the balance of the bill. The negotiation was quick and painless. A couple of errors on the first quote were quickly put right, such as two thirds of £88 is £66. NOT. So no pulling out now. Everything booked and everybody getting more and more excited by the minute. I spent the first half hour this morning in my office practicing my welcome speech for the party. The odds amongst the community gamblers is that I am big odds on, to cry for most of the weekend. Oh well somebody is going to be disappointed, problem is I have no idea who.

Anyway Adam went to the party of Saturdays Bar Mitzvah, Rachel went swimming to be picked up by our babysitter and Anne Marie and I went out to friends. Lovely evening just enjoying good friends company, laughing at stories, worrying about families oh and eating a very large steak with some grilled vegetables which in honesty is still lying heavy with me this morning. This is weighing not nearly as heavy as the telling down I got off Adam this morning, he expects better and I had better start delivering. Anyway he got back from his party at 11.30pm and decides he wants to do some press ups. Bless, what does go through the mind of a thirteen year old boy. So I need to get my head in my work now and tonight Adam and I will be practicing and I will be writing two more welcome speeches. One for Friday night and one for Saturday…………

Knackered. Running around trying to do a thousand things at once and only managing to get a few completed. Hard day at work yesterday which was brightened by one particular incident. In trying to book a hotel room for a colleague from Germany for Thursday night, my friend mentor, and all round good egg, Guy happened to stray onto the Ramada Jarvis site. To book a room phone this number. So he did. “Hello can I book a room for Thursday night please?
A short silence
“Ah I understand, so I have to phone the hotel directly, Can I have the number please? What do you mean you don’t have it. Is it, or is it not the purpose of this call centre to fill the hotel?” and so it went on for some considerable time during most of which I was rolling on the floor in laughter.
Adam was shattered last night. I only made him practice through once. He practiced his guitar for a bit and one bit of homework. Anne Marie and I finished his speech off. Then we wrote some background for the Rabbi, and then she went off to do table plans for Friday night and Shabbat lunch. About 11.30pm we both jacked it in and went to bed. Rachel was out overnight at friends as she is on half term.
Anne Marie has a stinker of a cold and it looks like Adam may be catching it. Life just like poker relies so much on timing...................oh and the speeches still aren't written

Phil you sure do have a way with words,I am sure your speech at Adams bar mitzvah will be a great 1 and cant wait to read it.

 you are going to post it? or video it and post it on you tube? + pics of Anne Maries hat

Man I'm happy to have broadband again when I read this diary.

Top stuff, Snatty.

on the equality thing, where do you stand on the ordination of female rabbis?

I took 3 Israeli customers to a company on the south coast today.

Original countries of origin/ancestry were Romanian, Moroccan & Libyan

Amazing people

For myself and it is a purely personal view I do not like it. My personal views though are somewhere to the right of Attila the Hun

And you never popped in for coffee !!!   Jane is hurting.

Okay so the speeches are still not written but I doubt any of you are surprised. In my defence I have ordered two knew knobbly bits for Adams guitar. I got my hair cut (went for the good French polish on the bald bit) got the car cleaned. Picked up a new white shirt. Organised the trophy.
Just as it was going so well the wheels well and truly came off. I was supposed to take Adam to the Shul to meet up with our photographer so that we could take some shots before Shabbat. I am supposed to take something for the photographer from Anne Marie and made sure that I put them with my tallit (prayer shawl) so that I would not forget them. So Adam and I have to get dressed into the clothes we are going to wear for Shabbat. The shirts need ironing. Now I am good with an iron as I am very particular about my shirts. Up with the ironing board. Plug in the iron. Hit the steam button a couple of times and would you believe it brown fluid shoots out the bottom of the iron all over my new shirt. Can that idea then and get dressed into an old shirt instead. Come back downstairs to find that the supersonic gunk that had come flying out the bottom of the iron is all over the back of Adam's shirt. Oh well we can hide it with the suit jacket. So we drive through the rain that is just starting. I am not in the best of moods. We go in and realise not only have I forgotten my tallit but also the stuff for the photographer.
Anyway the session went well. Adam and I practiced for a bit until the caretaker came back. Rachel is being absolutely amazing. It would be so easy for her to be jealous but she has been just the best. Adam wrote seven thank you letters and I am now going to bed as there are prayers in the morning at 6.40 am..............sets you up for breakfast. Vanilla and coffee shake then.

A little taster for you all

Goodlooking and wise looking your kid.


Must take after Mrs Snatty.

I'm sure that everything will go wonderfully well for you, Ann-Marie, Adam, Rachel and all of the family this weekend Phil.

Labriut, mazal tov, and lechaim to all of you.

+1

Hugely quick post.....going into a big pan European meeting. Good news. I have finished the Friday night speech. Bad news is I have not done the one for Shabbat. Adam had a final practice last night. It was good. The hat is here and photos to follow. The diet is out of the window for one weekend.........could put on a stone. Longer post later.

+2  Will be thinking of ye.

Okay last post before the weekend. I was in a meeting for project planning for 2009/2010 all day today. The time dragged simply because I am unable to get my mind off things that need doing before 2pm tomorrow afternoon. I am more excited about Adams Bar Mitzvah than I was for my own strangely. I think it must be because I have always found it more fun to give than receive. Not sure why but then I am not sure about more and more as time passes. Unbelievably no disasters today which leaves me a little stunned.

The phone has not stopped ringing from family and friends wishing us mazel tov. It has been lovely. Anne Marie is doing thank you notes with Adam who insists on his own words, "you are only allowed to check the spelling". Rachel is watching High School Musical 2 and blowing large bubbles with her bubble gum. I am putting a final post up on Blonde. In a few short hours the roller coaster weekend starts. Things will go well. Things will go badly. it doesn't matter as I have set myself one target and one target alone.............to enjoy each moment. Let's chat after the weekend. Shabbat Shalom

best of luck to you and the family this weekend. Hope it all goes to plan. Enjoy!!

Wow just wow as Mr. Kendall would say...........I will try and do it justice next week

I'm taking it went well then and you will brag about it like only a Jewish parent can? :)

It was only 2-1 Phil :)


Mazel Tov

rotflmfao

So where to begin. So much happened in one unbelievably moving weekend. It will take so much time to get it all down on paper and post it, I think  the thread may continue for a couple of weeks yet. You see I really want to try and get you to understand what it is all about.

I know that if I were an outsider looking in it might appear that it is all about a big party, or it might appear that it is about the presents. It might even appear that it is about how well your son performs in Shul. Well I am now in no doubt whatsoever, oh and let me tell you I was in little doubt before, it is about none of that. It is about something far more important.

In the coming posts I am going to take you through the whole weekend. I am going to explain the services, the significance, the atmosphere, the words, the speeches all of it. You may not be interested and that is okay but I just want to take a little time to give anybody who does happen upon this thread a little deeper insight into what makes me tick.

I sit here with a feeling of warmth and calm, about to go out with some old friends who came over from Jerusalem for the Bar Mitzvah. I want this feeling of warmth to continue for as long as possible and one way I can prolong this feeling is by writing it all up. The diet was shot to pieces over the weekend but today has been a good day so far, so it looks as though I have managed to get back on it for the zillionth time and I will keep you updated on that over the next couple of weeks…….

I'm very glad and not at all surprised to hear that the weekend went as well as you had all hoped.

Can't wait for the unexpurgated nitty-gritty :)

So Friday dawned and somehow thirteen years of planning had suddenly arrived like a huge wave breaking all around us. There just was not enough time and nerves were frayed to such an extent that we were all being caqreful how we breathed around each other. Packing the car was a real Mars Venus moment, one of us had a checklist, the other just wanted to shove it all in the car as fast as possible. No need to tell you who won. You see when we had asked Adam about three years ago what sort of Barmitzvah he wanted, he replied that he was not overly worried about the party but he wanted to be shomrei Shabbat.

A shomer Shabbat or shomer Shabbos (plural shomrei Shabbat or shomrei Shabbos; is a person who observes the mitzvot (commandments) associated with Judaism's Shabbat ("Sabbath", Friday evening until Saturday night.)

In particular, under Jewish law (halakhah), the shomer Shabbat is expected to conform to the prohibitions against certain forms of work. The observant Jew does not cook, spend money, write, turn on or off electrical devices, or do other activities prohibited on Shabbat. In addition, a variety of positive Sabbath commandments are expected to be fulfilled, such as Sabbath meals and prayers.

Now it surprised both Anne Marie and I and we were both pleased and concerned in one little sentence. As you regular readers will know the Cooklins of Bricket Wood live four and a half miles away from the Shul in Radlett. On top of which some of that journey is not paved. Also we have quite a number of religious Jewish friends who would also need accommodating or they would not be able to be with us on the Shabbat. Only one thing for it. We booked all thirteen rooms above the pub in Radlett. This would work as all the keys were mechanical not electronic. I paid the bill for all the rooms prior to the Friday night so nobody needed to carry money. We bought in Kosher breakfasts so that everyone would eat. For some of our guests it would have been the closest they would have been to a pub for a couple of decades. It could be interesting.

Anyway eventually all the stuff was in the cars, yes I did say cars, we were still just about talking but we were behind the clock. Shabbat was coming in at 4.19pm and we had to get to the pub and unload all the stuff. We get to the pub and find that one of our rooms had been given to somebody else...............we were not amused.

We definitely need a foot tapping impatiently smiley...

PS

The financial situation is so bad at this moment that Jewish women have started marrying for love.

rotflmfao rotflmfao

Okay ladies and gentlemen I apologise for the delay it has been a bit frantic at work this week. A bit like my old school reports "tries hard could do better".

So on with the story.....

Now at this point Anne Marie is doing her “what do you mean you gave one of the rooms away” routines. I on the other hand decide to play good cop. I play it well, smiling with just a hint of menace about the other twelve rooms I have booked and a quick, “I wonder how we can resolve this?”. We get our room back after a phone call to the poor unfortunate man who thought he had a room. Sir I apologise to you but the Shomer (the Shomer is a religious person who makes sure that the meal is cooked in a koshe manner) needed a room. No Shomer no Friday and Shabbat meals in shul.
Then we go upstairs to our two rooms. One is made up the other is not. Having said that the rooms are of a good size and clean. At this point our guests start arriving and the place descends into an elderly Jewish version of the first day at Hogwarts. It is great, a lot of noise, a lot of laughter, after all these people are leaving their normal routines to share Addies Bar Mitzvah with us. The vibe is good. Quick as flash we all get changed and stroll as a group the five minutes to Shul.
Lots of family and friends already there and Adam sits between his two grandfathers. He has nothing to do in the Friday night service except look nervous and he does that spectacularly well. He is ready but I can feel his irritation at not being able to get it out of the way there and then. I on the other hand just loved the service. I feel all the stresses and strains just dropping away and just reach a truly calm and spiritual place.
So after about an hour the service finishes, it was led by one of the communities new youth directors who has the most wonderful voice and enthusiasm, and the caterer sets up four tables. There are thirty of us for dinner and I get to give the first of my three welcome speeches. Before I share it with you it might be necessary to give you a glossary of a few terms. So here they are……
Sedra –The portion read from the Torah (scroll) on any given shabbat
Bereshit – The first of the five books of Moses or the Old Testament. You might know it as Genesis
Lchol Dodi – One of the most beautiful songs that loosely translated asks you to welcome the Sabbath as you would your bride
Noach – The story of Noah….which interestingly involves drink and castration towards the end. All Jewish heroes have serious flaws…..maybe that is why I love them.

And the speech went something like this with a few adlibs thrown in

Shabbat shalom.

Firstly welcome to you all, on this Adams Barmitzvah Shabbat. Thank you for taking the time and trouble to break your routines and comfort zones to join us over the boozer in downtown Radlett. It means so much to Anne Marie and I, but more particularly Adam who was the driving force behind what he wanted for his Barmitzvah.

 Now generally speaking you will find me at the back in Shul. Listening and observing and singing but this weekend unfortunately for you lot, or me and I am not sure which, you get to hear me speak. Now Sundays words of welcome are easy as I can pretty much get away with anything, but tonight we are in Shul, I am with people who are far more knowledgeable than me so I thought I had better get researching to try and find some inspiration.

So I start with the sedra and of course like all the bereshit stories there is loads of stuff to pick out, but I know others will do that during Shabbat and anyway to research and learn just to try and impress and look knowledgeable is not a good way to be. So I looked and learned and decided I would not try and relate to Noach, but it was good fun learning, so I think as my inch of movement in trying to be a better Jew for this year I am going to do that research on a far more regular basis.

So after much searching and reading I eventually settled on this. Something that just comes from the heart. The Friday night service in shul is my favourite service. From as far back as I can remember I associate this service with good things. In these troubled times when whole economies seem to be in crisis, when the media blow on every spark until it becomes a forest fire, when society seems want to take less and less care of each other, there is a warmth and comfort to be gained in coming together as friends and family and take part in traditions and ceremonies that have been constant and solid for centuries. Somehow you can just leave the troubles outside the door.

So other memories of Friday night include always getting flattened by Willi Siegler a very good friend of Uncle Geralds during lchol dodi. It used to make me laugh even though I often ended up sprawling on the floor. Then of course being  the youngest in shul meant I always got the Kiddush wine which was also great. And of course after shul we would go home and eat dinner with family and friends………..a bit like tonight

So once more I wish you Shabbat shalom and we hope you will enjoy yourselves this Shabbat as much as I know we will

Thank you.
We had the most wonderful, relaxed meal. About 8.30pm we headed back to the hotel and said our goodnights. Adam and I shared one room as Anne Marie believed if we left the kids together neither would get any sleep…we read for a bit. Chatted for a bit and at about 9.15 went to sleep…………………..


Yesterday I went to fat club. This has been going on too long now but that is my own fault. It was a good session. Even with my total abuse of myself and the diet I lost two and a half pounds. I now weigh 16 stone 8 pounds. A total loss of 80 pounds.........Today I feel rather good

You're some writer Snatty.


And rotflmfao @Kab

my inch of movement in trying to be a better Jew for this year

A very eloquent turn of phrase.

I roll over in bed. I feel like I have only been asleep for a minute but prise my eyes open like a pair of reluctant oysters for fear that it is only 10.30 and that I will not be able to get back to sleep. I slowly focus on the clock and realise two things almost simultaneously that it is 1.45 am and the clock is upside down. It is in fact 7.15 and I have slept through. Adam is still asleep. I pick up a book to read. The current book is actually a reread of the life of Rabbi Akiba. It was awarded to me as a Cheder prize. A Cheder is a traditional elementary school teaching the basics of Judaism and the Hebrew language. Anyway Akiba is an absolutely massive figure in the religion. He did not become a Jew until he was forty when he fell in love with the boss’s daughter so to speak. They were then disowned by her father and she scraped money together whilst he went off to Yeshiva.

A yeshiva also frequently referred to as a Beth midrash, Talmudical Academy, Rabbinical Academy or Rabbinical School is an institution unique to classical Judaism for Torah study, the study of Talmud, Rabbinic literature and Responsa.
So off toddles Akiba and sits at Yeshiva for a full year without asking a question because he is so in awe of the other much younger and more learned men around him. He stays there for twelve years before returning to his wife. Wiki puts it most succinctly.

 Returning at the end of that time, he was just about to enter his wretched home, when he overheard the following answer given by his wife to a neighbor who was bitterly censuring him for his long absence: "If I had my wish, he should stay another twelve years at the academy." Without crossing the threshold, Akiba turned about and went back to the academy, to return at the end of another twelve years. The second time, however, he came back as a most famous scholar, escorted by 24,000 disciples, who reverently followed their beloved master. When his poorly clad wife was about to embrace him, some of his students, not knowing who she was, sought to restrain her. But Akiba exclaimed, "Let her alone; for what I am, and for what you are, is hers" (she deserves the credit).

I will come back to Akiba in the future. This book is not an easy read and it is 7.45am so I put it down and decided it was time to wake sleeping beauty. He wakes instantly and just as quickly gives the biggest smile, I melt and we both just start laughing for no apparent reason. We decide to go and rouse the girls but they are already awake and sorting out the breakfasts for everybody. Some of the more religious people in the party will not eat in the restaurant so we got breakfasts for everybody so that they felt under no pressure. A group of old friends congregate in one of the bedrooms and trade stories, which the kids love, for a bit whilst eating breakfast. I decided to have a strawberry shake to celebrate.
Anne Marie is a little stressed trying to get herself organised and I take it as my signal to get out of the way with Ads and get dressed. My word we look dapper in our new suits, look good, feel good has become one of my new mantras. One of the goals I took on when starting the diet was to buy myself a really smart suit off the peg for Adams Bar Mitzvah. I am now wearing it and it feels good. Now Anne Marie and I had long discussions in the planning as to what to budget for the Bar Mitzvah and I kept coming back to this one fact. If somebody had died we would spend whatever was necessary. There are two occasions that I will not worry about money and just celebrate life to its absolute fullest. One of them I am describing now, the other please God will happen in the future. Please forgive me in these troubled times if it all looks excessive, we had been saving for fifteen years for this moment on the off chance that we had children. The money was put away for just this purpose and this purpose alone. Adam would have done better if we had just given him the money but only in monetary terms as hopefully you will understand.

I come downstairs with Ads. My Mum and Dad are already down there waiting as they see us they both start beaming. Anne Marie and Rachel arrive a few moments later, they both look absolutely amazing. There is so much of the mother in the daughter and let me tell you ladies and gentlemen it is all good. Our friends arrive and we all take the short trip back to Shul. There are a lot of people there already waiting for the service to start. The Shul seats 251 and we know it is going to be busy. Very busy.

So there are three distinct bits of the service. It starts with Shacharit – the morning service, which takes about an hour, then we progress to the Torah reading which is the highlight of any Shabbat service and finally Mussaf, the additional service said on Shabbat and festivals. So Shacharit starts and I am already in a world completely ruled by emotion....................

Genuinely inspired writing Phil, very educational too and I include myself among those being enlightened.

The Shacharit service is being led by Joel who taught Adam all the bits for his Bar Mitzvah. At first I wanted to teach Adam but knowing my patience quotient was way too low for this particular task it fell to Joel. His wife teaches Rachel on a Sunday morning with some of her friends. It was Rachel’s birthday today. So what does your average ten year old want for a party? For her and some of her mates to go wakeboarding on Willen Lake in Milton Keynes. So we did. They all got freezing cold, wet and had an absolute blast.

Joel starts the service. He has a wonderful voice and soon has us all singing along. A steady stream of people arrive and they all come to the where we are sitting at the front and wish us mazel tov. Now the words Mazel Tov need a little explanation. Excuse the use of the old Wiki again.  Mazal tov (Hebrew: מזל טוב‎) literally means "good fortune" in Hebrew. This phrase has been incorporated into Yiddish as "mazel tov," and is now used in Modern Hebrew and English as well. It is often used to mean "congratulations."

The expression comes from the Mishnaic Hebrew mazzāl, meaning "constellation" or "destiny." "Mazal Tov" is used for all sorts of happy occasions, whether they are a new driver's license, a birthday, or the end of an IDF service. Another common use is to acknowledge a bad event or experience being over - for example, after a very hard test.

Note that although "mazal" means "luck" in Modern Hebrew, "good luck" is an incorrect translation of the true meaning of the phrase. This term is not used in the way that the expression "good luck" is used in English (typically as "I wish you good luck"). It is more often an acknowledgment that good fortune has already occurred; the sayer means, "I am pleased this good thing has happened to you!" The phrase for wishing good luck is in Hebrew "B'hatzlacha" (בהצלחה), literally meaning "with success".

Firstly everybody is hugging me. Now normally I like to keep a healthy distance from other people. I mean I might give a kiss on the cheek and a big hug to the very nice ladies but the blokes can go and get their own hugs. Anyway there is just so much warmth being shown, to me and the whole family, I am just hugging everybody in a full on, sort of manly way.  Not much praying going on but this is not for the lack of trying. The atmosphere feels a bit like that before an important sporting event. Well it does for me. For others who knows. It is crackling and as more and more people arrive the singing and buzz get louder and louder. This is a true community simcha (literal translation, happiness but is now used for any celebration). The family are reaping the reward for Anne Marie’s years of hard work in the community. My kids were named in the Shul and we have developed as a family, spiritually amongst these people. When you add in all my family then it is really quite special. Decorum is good now, even amongst Adams mates who are filling the back two rows of the Shul but there is one group who are talking like old times. Four of my oldest friends are in attendance all sitting together chewing the fat like a Jewish version of Last of the Summer Wine as though they are back in the Shul in Leicester except one doesn’t go to Shul anymore, one goes in Leicester, one lives in London and the other in Brighton, and me I set root in Bricket Wood.

Quick as a flash, Shacharit is over and we are getting to the nitty gritty bit of the service. Now there are various prayers that accompany the removal of the Torah from the Ark. The Ark being a large ornate cupboard at the front of the Shul. These prayers are all sung with the doors of the Ark opened. Anne Marie’s father Alex opened the Ark. We wanted him to have a bigger honour but he does not feel that comfortable in the synagogue and it is symbolic that he opened the Ark for his grandsons Bar Mitzvah. The roof is really being raised now during the communal singing. I am welling up, can’t help it. Raise my chin and get myself back under control, just. I can’t look at Anne Marie because we will both start crying and I have to give the pretence of calm for Adam. The Torah is taken to the Bimah. A bimah is the elevated area or platform in a Shul which is the place where the person reading aloud from the Torah stands during the Torah reading part of the service.

Before we get to the actual reading though, there is normally an insight into this week’s Torah reading. Normally this is given by the Rabbi, but it is actually part of the service that can be done by a woman so up to the plate step Anne Marie and Rachel. Rachel my almost ten year old, standing up in front of what is now an audience in the region of 300. She looks calm and confident and this is what they said..................

Shabbat Shalom

Rachel
This week’s Parsha starts ten generations after Adam and Eve.   The people who lived at the time of Noach were dishonest - they stole, robbed and told lies … you name it, they did it. They were wicked and did not follow in Hashem’s ways.   Noach was the only righteous person amongst them.   

Hashem told Noach that he was planning to destroy the entire world by bringing a great flood.  He instructed Noach to build an ark where he, his family and anyone willing to repent could escape from the flood.   It took Noach 120 years to build the ark because Hashem wanted to give everyone the chance to repent.  Whenever people passed Noach’s yard and asked him what he was doing, he explained: "I am building an ark, because Hashem will destroy the world if you don’t repent while there is still a chance.”  But they just laughed and didn't take him seriously.

Then one day Hashem told Noach to go into the ark with his three sons, their wives, food and water and a male and female of every type of animal except fish.  When Noach sealed the ark, it started raining.  Hashem gave everyone one last chance to repent but they did not change their minds.  The rain became a flood which lasted 40 days and 40 nights.  The entire world was covered in water, and everything was destroyed.

When the flood was over, the earth was still covered with water and the ark floated around for a long time.  After 150 days, it finally settled on Mount Ararat and Noach sent a raven and some doves out of the ark to see if there was any dry land.  After a few weeks one of the doves returned with an olive branch in its beak.  This told Noach that the earth had dried, and finally Hashem gave him permission to leave the ark.  Noach built an altar and offered sacrifices to Hashem to thank him for sparing his life.  Hashem swore that he would never again destroy the entire world and confirmed this to Noach by creating a rainbow.

For the next ten generations, everyone spoke the same language and followed the same customs.  One day, a group of people decided to build a tower to show that they were as powerful as Hashem.  At this point, Hashem made everyone speak a different language, so that they couldn’t understand each other.  This caused a great deal of confusion.   They stopped building the tower and separated into different nations.
 
Anne Marie
The story of Noach teaches us three important lessons:
Firstly, not to be discouraged when things get too difficult.  Although building an ark may have seemed an impossible task for Noach, Hashem only wanted him to try his best and rewarded him for doing so by saving him and his family from the flood. 
Secondly, not to be influenced by others.  Before and after the flood, Noach was surrounded by people who did not do the right thing, despite being given several chances to change their ways.  Instead of joining them, Noach rose above the crowd and followed Hashem’s instructions.  He did what he knew in his heart was right. 
And finally, the Tower of Babel shows us, amongst other things, the tremendous power of unity.  If such unity were to be used in a positive way, for example, to make peace, the world would be a better place. 
Adam, today you take your first steps into manhood and we are all extremely proud of you.  As you go through life, you would do well to remember what your Barmitzvah parsha teaches you:  always try to do your best, be the first one to make peace whenever you find yourself in an argument and always do what you know in your heart to be the right thing. 
Shabbat Shalom.

The Hat as shot by Ads

ever thought of becoming a teacher, Snatty?..would suit you, me thinks.

When I was made redundant a few years ago, I gave it serious thought. Unfortunately the financial gap etc. was just too great and now I think I am probably too old to make the change............but that or reporting on rugby would have been my two jobs of choice I think

The service is racing by like one of Tikays memorable train journeys.  There are seven aliyot ( the translation is going up, but we provincial Jews call it a “call up”) during the Torah reading. The first two are for a Kohen and a Levi. They are honoured first as the Kohanim (plural) were the priests in the temple and the Levi’im had the job of taking care of them. You are born into those two particular tribes, if not you are a member of one of the not as special tribes of Israel.

I get the third aliyah which is high honour and normally given to the father of the Bar Mitzvah boy. A few blessings and a little bit of looking over the Torah and making sure it is read correctly......like I’d know!!! Fifth call up is given to Dad as a father and son are not allowed on the Bimah at the same time. Then it is Adams turn. His Hebrew name is called out and he is sung to the Bimah by the whole community. He kisses the Torah and starts singing the first three blessings. His voice is massively wobbly but then he starts his Maftir, so clearly and confidently, his strength seems to radiate out of him and he is smiling broadly. First hurdle faced and duly overcome, I mean me and not getting all emotional, I don’t know what you were thinking. Then there is a bit of dancing in a circle. We are quite good in circles, it is when we go to free form that your average Jewish man seems to lose all co ordination and looks like a spaceman at zero gravity speeded up a thousand times.

Well we are underway and it has started most promisingly. The Rabbi now says the prayer for those who are unwell in the community, and then two people get called up to dress the Torah. Like all good strike forces it normally involves a big one and a little one. The big one gets to unwind the Torah to about shoulder width and then  lifts it high so that all members can see it. The Torah can be seriously heavy as they are made from wood and parchment, oh and I may have forgotten to mention but if you drop it the whole community have to fast. I get Hagbah a lot, but today it goes to my best mate Faff. Now Faff is called Faff for a very obvious reason. I have never known anybody take as long to make a decision, not even Anne Marie or my sisters. He is also the reason I am on this infernal diet and therefore the reason you are reading this thread. We go back a long way and he is a loyal and true friend. The other part of our strike force is my nephew Jacob. It is his job to dress the Torah but I am there to help him.

Torah no longer nude we can start with Adam’s Haftorah. It is long, about thirty sentences of Hebrew all sung followed by four long blessings. There are three of us on the Bimah. Adam, Joel on his left and me on his right. There is no need to worry though as Adam has now hit his straps and is looking round the Shul as he sings, taking little glances at his mother and other members of his family and friends. I can’t look at Anne Marie and whenever I look up she looks down, so I guess she is having similar feelings, the feelings of pride and love. To see our son who it seemed like only yesterday I was holding for the first time standing up in front of all these people giving the most wonderful rendition for his Bar Mitzvah is just totally indescribable.

He reaches the blessings at the end and it happens. I look up and catch Anne Maries eye and in less than a nano second we are both laughing and crying. Poor old Ads manages to shoot us both a look of horror which was quite some feat as we were in opposite directions but carries on as though it is most natural thing in the world to see your father and mother crying. He finishes and gets the biggest Mazel Tov from all present and of course a massive hug from me. He then goes over to his Mother who also gives him a huge hug and shakes the hands of the Wardens who run the service. I dry my eyes and tot up how much I owe to people who had me on to cry. The Torah gets placed back in the Ark by Anne Maries Dad and we all settle down for the sermon............

Thank you Faff

Apologies all it has in these troubled times been a bit manic at work this week. I will try and get some more stuff and nonsense up over the weekend

Now I would like to tell you that I remember every single word of the Rabbi’s sermon at this point, but I can’t remember a single thing. I am sure it was good, in fact I remember thinking it was very clever but as senility starts creeping around the edges of my mind, the content has completely gone. I do remember getting up to bless Adam with Anne Marie and getting the words slightly wrong and there were a couple of presentations and then we get to Mussaf.

Adam is back up and leading the whole community in the service. His confidence and enthusiasm are infectious and the Shul is really rocking in a religious, spiritual, Jewish way and everybody is joining in and smiling and singing and if I live to be a hundred this memory will always be with me. His very manner is one of somebody who has crosses the Rubicon. No fear or timidity just an absolute belief in his ability to do something that 90% of the community will never do and a joy in doing it.

The service is over and as always I wonder how that happened so quickly. The term kiddush is used to refer to a ceremonial meal served at a synagogue at the conclusion of services, in which refreshments are served. Traditionally, this often includes cake, crackers, and fish. It is actually the prayer over wine on the Shabbat. So we clear all the chairs away. Lots of Mazel Tovs. Lots of hugs. Lots of laughter.

And having eaten there is only one thing to do.......sit down and eat lunch. The tables get set up and laid. Table plan posted. Everybody sits down and I stand up to give welcome speech two which goes like this

Rabbi, Debbie, Mum, Dad, Rita and Alex Family and friends. It is truly wonderful to have you all here with us on this special day for Adam, Rachel, Anne Marie and I. We are truly blessed to have so many friends and family with us today to celebrate Adams Barmitzvah. Of course there are people we are thinking of today who can’t be with us and in particular memories of  two special people. Stella, Anne Maries mother whom I never met but I am led to believe was somebody not to be messed with and Uncle Gerald who passed away this year and who Adam shares his birthday with and who gave the proposal speech at my own Bar Mitzvah.

Now it is interesting that Stella was a woman not to be messed with as people in the community seem to have the same view of Anne Marie. Anne Marie you look gorgeous today and as Rachel said when she saw your hat for the first time “Mummy that is a front row job”. Your nine years of no nonsense work for the community on the Shul board was obviously the main reason that the Shul let us have lunch here today and we are very greatful to Rabbi Abel, the chairman and the honorary officers for this privelige.

The same no nonsense approach has been evident in the organising for this weekend and you are an absolute driving force for our whole family. I am so blessed that Rita managed to find a way to get us together. Now to have a no nonsense approach is all very well but you need someone to have a no nonsense approach with. Enter stage left our good friend and caterer Neil Samuels who has from the very first phone call been a guiding light in shaping how we could accomplish lunch in the Shul. We could not have done all of this without him and we are so pleased  that he took the job on.

Now we come to the  third generation of women not to be messed with, Rachel. Rachel not only are you beautiful like your Mother but you are as smart as her as well. Your Dvar Torah was brilliant and your enthusiasm and help for your brothers Bar Mitzvah has confirmed what a truly great girl you are.

“If not now when!!!”
The first time I heard these words you might have thought I was at Cheder. You might have thought I was listening to a sermon in Shul but neither of these would be correct,
No the first time I heard these words I happened to be at a poker table. Avi was about to throw his chips into the middle of the table with what I soon came to realise had become his regular battle cry. I knew it was a quote but I had no idea where it was from so I decided to bash it into Google. Up pops Hillel. The full quote is of course

"If I am not for myself, who will be? If I am not for others, what am 'I'? And if not now, when?" The third part contains the admonition to postpone no duty, the same admonition which he gave with reference to study (Avot 2:4): "Say not, 'When I have free time I shall study'; for you may perhaps never have any free time." No miracles are connected with Hillel's memory. He lived, without the glory of legend, in the memory of posterity as the great teacher who taught and practised the virtues of philanthropy, fear of God, and humility.
To my mind Adam I think on this your Bar Mitzvah day there can be no better role model than Hillel

And this leads me to you  Adam. On Thursday night whilst you were in the shower you started singing certain sections of your Bar Mitzvah completely unprompted and two thoughts sprang to mind. Firstly your teacher Joel Sager is very very good, thank you Joel and secondly Hillels classic line “if not now when”. You see as regards your Bar Mitzvah you were very obviously ready. But it is obvious that you are ready not only for your Bar Mitzvah but also  to start the learning necessary to get the most out of life and your Jewish identity. Your Mummy, Rachel and I are tremendously proud of you, and I as your father would not normally tell you this but I thought  that your davening this morning was excellent. Also your enthusiasm in everything that you do from school work particularly Tenach of late, to rugby, to thank you letters, this enthusiasm is refreshing and infectious and makes the job for Mummy and I incredibly easy.

I know already that as you move forward from this point you will take care of those around you. It is your nature to behave in this way. That you will deepen your knowledge and Jewish identity, and you will quietly go about your achievements without fanfare but with humility. Strive to be like Hillel and you will not go far wrong . Of course if you need role models that you can talk to, you might try your grandparents they have done pretty well as regards your Mummy and I and they may take you on as a special project.
So all that remains is for you all to sit back eat lunch, enjoy each other’s company and I wish you all Shabbat shalom.

This is just massive. Thanks Phil.

But this, (below), surely, is not exclusively Jewish - I was taught the very same.

always try to do your best, be the first one to make peace whenever you find yourself in an argument and always do what you know in your heart to be the right thing. 

As a non-Jew, I was also taught this - never be afraid to laugh at one's self. It's better than laughing at others.

Then there is a bit of dancing in a circle. We are quite good in circles, it is when we go to free form that your average Jewish man seems to lose all co ordination and looks like a spaceman at zero gravity speeded up a thousand times.

And finally.....

Thank you for your help last night on PTP. As you could see, answering so many questions, from so many perople, for so long, on chat-box software that's kinda awkward, & at the same time, playing Poker, is pretty tough for one with my lack of dexterity. I was most grateful. The PTP sessions are punctuated by the occasional idiot, making it tough to look after the real Clients, so it's quite a test, some nights.

You are a top bloke.

Indeed most positive ideals have probably been passed from one religion to another and back agan. good people are good people not because of their religion but because they are good people

I have to say..if you quit this diary I'm afraid I will have to hunt you down and kill you by shoving burgers in your face untill you weigh 50 stone and explode.

 ;gobsmacked;  Big threats from a midget   rotflmfao

Phil - I remember you saything that in your Synagogue the men and women sit separately. From reading this is it different for the Barmitzvah?

Also at some point can you relay that convo you had with the Rabbi about gambling. I thought it was very insightful and funny.

Lastly more photos please!

PS I agree with the bald midget. x

Okay as regards the seperate sitting that is the same for all religious services regardless. We are able to see each other though unlike in some synagogues.

The comments on gambling that you allude to come from a different Rabbi. I like to ask the Rabbi's questions about gambling and the religion. Such as it okay to play the lottery? The best response I got on this one was the following. You can do one line in a draw but to do more than one line would not be good. Why not says I? Because, came the response, if you do one line then if the lord decides to bless you in that way you have created the opportunity but to do more than one line would be gambling..............I like that one a lot. By the way poker as a hobby is okay but as a profession it would exclude you from sitting in a Jewish court...that's lucky then.

As regards the diary I think I still feel that these things should reach a conclusion, so once I have concluded the Bar Mitzvah stories and done the photos ( which arrived on Friday and are rather good) and maybe done some of the highlights from the video then for this diary that will be it.......a few weeks then. Anyway I want to get back to being a regular contributor to other threads and start other topics I do not seem able to do so. I am very touched that anybody bothered to read this stuff or would want me to continue but this really started as a diet diary and I now honestly believe that I will be dieting in some form for the rest of my life, so better to bring this to nice controlled finish.

The diet has been a disaster this week or rather my application on the diet has. I do not feel bad though. How can I. I only weigh sixteen 7 now and although that is not 14 and a half, I still feel great. As Simon Galloway said I need to get my head back into gear but I am having too much fun with cheese and onion crisps........I never used to like cheese and crisps so go figure as they say.

wow sat 16 stone 7 is amazing mate well done  :)up ;applause; ;applause;

End this Diary? Strewth, that hurts. But you must go with your gut instinct Phil.

I sometimes think the same- end the Diary now, but I'm obsessive compulsive, & just feel a need to write sometimes. Waffle, but writing waffle.

Either way, thanks Phil, it's been such a wonderful & edcational read - mind-over matter, psychology, the Jewsh ways, selling ale, & clothes - a genuine magical mystery Tour.

You should have called it "Diary of a Gentleman".

Your wife & kids are very lucky. They chose well.

+1

+2 

you cant stop it Phil its the only time in my life i have actually enjoyed reading about religion so it must be "the way you tell em"  :)up :)up

So I finally took the plunge and spent some of my hard earned on a little netbook laptop. After much research I went for the Asus running XP and spent a happy evening playing sit n go’s on Sky in my room in Nijmegen which if my memory serves me right is the bridge one before the bridge too far at Arnhem. Some of you may have seen the post asking for help but I did manage to sort it out myself in the end

So we all sat back  and relaxed and ate  and chatted and laughed and lunch moved into the afternoon service and then the concluding service. At this moment in proceedings the most amazing sense of calm takes over. My mother and I have a lovely chat about stuff and nonsense and we are both in the same mood. I can’t quite find the words to describe it, it is something like nothing is really important other than what we have just done. By being shomrei Shabbat the whole focus has been on the service and praying and sharing time on what is important such as family. That concludes the Shabbat and we pack our stuff into the cars and head for home.

We just relax on the Saturday night and that brings us to the Sunday, and the party……..

Now I have spent this week in Germany doing budget work for next year, and I have learned some new things. Firstly forty five years old is too old for playing five a side football. Secondly I still get to the tackle too late, but don’t care and take various lumps out of various people. Thirdly Germany is a great place to be when the England team win, shame about our so called supporters though. Too many excuses for this type of behaviour and none, and I do mean none, of them are valid. I have been all over Europe watching rugby and never had a problem and let me tell you we all got very very drunk. I haven’t really done very much writing on the diet recently, probably because it is too painful a subject and it seems that we are just going round again. I haven’t given in or stopped entirely but as you all know I have not reached my goal. I find myself in a combination of slight frustration, fear that I might go straight back up in weight, and self loathing for not being the strong person I would like to be. Anne Marie last night told me to list all the things that I love now that I have lost some weight. Here are ten in no particular order

1.   Buying new clothes
2.   Being able to wrap a hotel towel around my waist
3.   The tray not touching my waist on an aeroplane
4.   Walking round the village
5.   Running round the block
6.   Playing energetically with the kids
7.   Flirting even more outrageously (don’t worry darling I know the rules)
8.   Writing and making a whole load of new mates
9.   Playing five a side football
10.   Feeling like I want to stop trying to kill myself


The tenth one came out of nowhere. I mean I had to switch the PC off for a bit and go away and analyse what had flown across my brain. Scary thought and way too deep was I really trying to kill myself through food abuse. Did I really not care before? Was my self esteem really that low? It would appear that it was but it is not that low right now. In some weird way that has really enabled me to get through the day and once again I feel moderately confident.

There is no doubt that right now I have way too much to look forward too but I am also painfully aware that my head sometimes plays tricks and tells me this is not always the case so I am writing down the important things, in case my own version of a Black Dog should descend. ~I have not done this enough during the diet and intend to do it more from here to the end.

There were some great moments this week but my favourite went like this.
Mobile phone rings whilst sitting on bed in Holland….
“we’ve had a letter from the school”
oh swear words says I
Anne Marie starts reading it……it went like this

Well it kind of worked.....anyway it was a really great letter............so now a couple of pictures of Ads and me the Thursday before the Bar Mitzvah...........and also my favourite picture of me from the whole weekend because there is something in my expression that is just so me.......there will be loads of pictures as I go into the party story next week and beyond

I needed a bit of a warm. I was on security at the Shul yesterday which was cold. I then drove up to Leicester for the rugby, old habits die hard and then I went to Adams rugby training which started off in the changing room but progressed to a match in the sleet for the 30 odd boys who turned up. Let’s be honest they must have been fairly odd to have turned up having seen the weather in the first place. So tonight I find myself next to the pool in St Albans and I have shed two layers of clothes already. Rachel can now tumble turn which I think is really cool and a defining moment for those who can swim seriously or is it seriously swim.

So the Sunday of the Bar Mitzvah is mild and dry and we are going to party as though there is no tomorrow. Now you need to understand that in general Jewish people do not drink. They drink so little that your average Kosher caterer throws in the alcohol for free. I often thought it might be fun to book a kosher caterer and turn it into a Blonde Bash for the function. The food costs so much though that they would probably still turn a profit. Anyway the Sunday morning dawns dry and bright and those with hair go off to have it washed and blow dried and I go off to Bushey cemetery for a stone setting. It is a very good reminder for me to be mindful that although in my own world it is a golden happy time, for others it may not be. I have already mentioned previously that Adam and I had been to synagogue in the morning to enable him to put on tefillin for the first time. I do not feel that religious today though, my Snat character is in full swing and we are going to dance……a lot.

So we all meet up around lunchtime and start loading the car with our outfits, with presents and presentations, with speeches each meticulously listed on a to do list which I am totally ignoring as Anne Marie is in a bit of a Hyacinth Bucket and telling us what to do. I can’t help it but I just hate people telling me what to do regardless of who they are. I know this is Amma’s way of letting off steam but today it is sending me up the wall. Eventually the car is fully loaded and we drive to the Royal Majestic Suite.

Now I am not sure which Royal celebrated at the Royal Majestic suite to give it the moniker but the title of the venue always makes me smile. I mean the thought of any Royal traipsing through Willesden and pitching up at the Majestic Suite would indeed make for a great comedy sketch. Anne Marie and I got married at the Majestic and it seemed like the right venue for the Bar Mitzvah and the photos that follow show
1.   The outside of the Majestic 
2.   The order of play – which you can’t read anyway, but that does not matter
3.and 4      The inside of the room before the party

Now you may have noticed that there is a lot of orange in the room. There was no particular significance for this other than it s a nice warm colour but everybody tried to come up with some significance so I played along. I believed I came up with a number of reasons, closet Wolves fan, a supporter of the ultra right party in Israel etc. etc. The real reason is we just like the colour.

Now there is a nice story around the attached pictures which I  will expand on next. It is a story of great friendship. Remember ladies and gentlemen friends are there for a reason and you gain far more from helping a friend than that friend does from your help…….

In Glasgow they'd have thought you were a Protestant Jew.

I know a story that went along those lines and involved a friend who when asked by the man with the gun as regards his religious persuassion came up with the answer Jewish. He always kept a skull cap with him just in case........bloody lucky they didn't ask him to lower his trousers

Billy Connolly did joke about a guy walking about Belfast who avoided trouble twice by claiming to be Jewish - then an Arab jumped him.

I take it the lovely lady in the picture is just humouring you and pretending to laugh at your story? ;)

Looking more like Bilko every day snatty xxx

Harsh but undoubtedly true rotflmfao rotflmfao

Theo Dalton five years ago when I first walked into the old Luton called me Bilko and still does. When I went online for rthe first time Bilko was one of the names I tried....it had already gone........

maybe this doesnt belong here, but to me it seems kinda appropriate - I just came back from a weekend in Berlin, of which the highlight for me wasnt the fantastic food, or the great beer, or even the teutonic efficiency which which everything just works (I like that)...it was my afternoon spent in the Jewish Museum.

This place is vast. It has literally thousands of exhibits, but the highlights are the more in the way the place is designed - three intersecting axis representing, continuity, exile, and the holocaust. There is a 'garden of exile' the effect if which is to make you feel disorientated, and a holocause tower, a vast empty space.

definitely worth a visit if you are ever in Berlin.

Did you have a wander through the Holocaust memorial Laz ... Its a mass of concrete pillars and blocks right in the city centre, but yet step in it and you cant hear a thing ...

(http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/41162000/jpg/_41162872_holocaust-ap300.jpg)

(http://statravelers.com/files/submitted_photos/DSC07249a_preview.jpg)

Berlin strangely is a gap in my education......hmm might have to go and do something about that!!! Great posts though

Now the wonderfully captured laughing lady is our good friend Lynn who lost her first husband very suddenly and then proceeded to bring up her two boys, start a business and still find time for her friends. She is a most wonderful vivacious person and she did the balloons and table centres for the Bar Mitzvah. They were awesome. She also organised my favourite Bar Mitzvah meal ever which for her sons Bar Mitzvah was fried egg and chips.

The gentleman who looks as though he is kissing the back of her head is Bruce her new partner. Now you could not make the next bit up. Bruces father was the guy who used to do the alterations of the suits when I was the manager of Burtons in Stratford. I had met Bruce once before when his father invited me round for Seder night as I was not going home. Bruce had just got married for the first time. They are both lovely lovely people and we are considerably lucky to have them as friends.

Now Lynn and Bruce had missed Shul on Shabbat and we had no idea why until we got a phone call on Saturday night after returning to the house. They had gone to the florist all pitzed up in their Shul outfits to pick up the 150 orange flowers for the table centres. They get the box of flowers and open it up. The box says orange but the flowers are pink. They then get the wholesaler to phone as far a field as Holland but not an orange flower for love nor money. Something about Halloween and the colour orange.

So what did Lynn and Bruce do? They took the pink flowers back to their house. Got changed and sprayed the little devils orange. If she hadn’t told us we would never have known..what a mate.

The room looked amazing and having got changed into our black tie outfits we had a bit of a photo shoot with family.

First up Rachel

Rachel

The man himself and one with his sister

Ladiesand Gentlemen I give you the Cooklins

They look great and so happy,  Snatt, xx

 now The Outlaws

Two incredibly long suffering parents.......and just for the record I would have been rebellious regardless Dad.....that is just my nature

Me and me sisters....sorry girls
My folks, my sisters, our partners and children

He is just such a great height for hugging

Ladies and Gentlemen....your hosts for the evening

Please put your hands together for Rachel.......struts in with the band blasting out Beyonce

Ladies and gentlemen I want you to raise the roof for the star of our evening Adam

and now please dance like lunatics but only in circles

Now after half an hours dancing and let me tell you I really enjoyed myself everyone sat down and this bloke gave a welcome speech. It was his last official duty as the bill had already been paid

Welcome speeches are so difficult. I mean how should I start it? Should I start with a gag. You know a really clever one like Woody Allens “"I failed to make the chess team because of my height."
…….hmm better not. Humour is just so incredibly personal.


Should I start traditionally with a “Rabbi, Debbie,  Mum/Dad/ Alex/ Rita/ Adam/Rachel/family and friends…….well it would get it out of the way in a no nonsense but slightly boring way. In fact if I think you may be asleep at the end of the second card. In honesty I think you should get slightly more entertainment than that.

Maybe I should start it with something that goes like , oh and I am going to need some audience participation here…….can you do audience participation…..wait for answer “Here is the speech that Anne Marie wrote. Here is my speech that Anne Marie has not seen yet. If you want to hear Anne Maries speech shout Anne Marie now!!!! If you want to hear the speech that Anne Marie has not seen yet shout Phil now!!!!!

But I do not think I can go down that route either. You see whatever I write whether Anne Marie has seen it or not is so heavily based on our relationship and our lives together that it really does not matter whether she has seen it or not. Be very clear ladies and gentlemen she is the foundation on which this family is built. I love her enormously and if I only got one thing right in my life it was that I asked her so quickly to marry me………..she on the other hand maybe should have taken slightly longer to say yes.   Without her drive commitment and enthusiasm we would almost certainly not be having nearly as great a time as we are this weekend and with your help will have this evening. Anne Marie you look stunning this evening and a better partner in life I could not have found.

Now that brings us rather nicely on to you lot………….Wow….well look at all of you.  Don’t you all scrub up well!  All pitzed up with somewhere to go on a Sunday night. Some have battled their way to be here from Israel, from Spain, Manchester, Leeds, my own home town of Leicester and of course Radlett and London. Thank you so much for coming and making this simcha so special for us. Naturally  there are those who can not be with us tonight and our memories and thoughts are of course with them too.









And what of the younger generation. Well of course Rachel may be the youngest of the Bricket Wood Cooklins but she is also the smartest. A national memory challenge finalist, voracious reader and academic hooligan she also plays football at school and swims for City of St Albans is a Brownie and a Tae Kwondo green belt and on top of that is beautiful. Thanks to Adams love of rugby she is fierce in the breakdown and she rucks and mauls way above her age group. I often sit and listen to Rachel and Adam making up new versions of games. Such as monopoly with more than one hotel on any property, and for those like Anne Marie who do not know, this is definitely bending the rules. Sometimes the discussion is heated but always intelligently worked through. On the odd occasion when the discussion gets overheated and the positive vibe of fighting their corner comes into play, I tend to reach for the ipod which has various punk rock anthems that I put on full blast to calm me down. Rachel you look beautiful this evening and your dvar torah yesterday was excellent and bodes well for your own bat mitzvah in a couple of years time.

And so to Adam. Adam is the type of boy who always manages to get himself into situations. You will hear some of the better ones during this evenings speeches no doubt. He is though a most determined boy. I mean really really determined. Once he has set his sights on doing something he goes and does it. Take for example the intershul athletics. For those who do not know, every year eight of the major shuls north of the river lock athletic horns. The Olympics it is not, but as regards competitive edge it is right up there. The parents behaviour is classically Jewish. I have heard them complain to the judges about how their little boy was facing the wrong way or that some child is obviously too tall for the under 8 age group and therefore must be older, or the classic from this year when one of the mothers complained that one of the competitors against them in the mothers relay was a 12 year old girl and therefore should be disqualified. I mean there weren’t even medals for this race.









 Well Adam has some athletic ability and once he saw that there was a trophy for the under 12 category he set his sights on it. He was 8 at the time and every summer he would start to train to get fit for the 100 metres. Each year he would win his age group. Well ladies and gentlemen this year he won it and it has joined his rugby player of the year trophies. When being awarded the Player of the year for rugby at Old Albanians, as in St Albans rather than Albania, the coach gives a little speech and it was noted that you can’t see Adam. You sense him. Wherever the ball was, so was Adam and he would suddenly erupt out of the maul, ball in hands. On another occasion  he said  he loved coaching Adam as he just got on with whatever he was asked to do.


These same skills came to the fore when it came to his bar mitzvah. He finished his Maftir and haftorah in a determined methodical way. So now what? Well Daddy says Adam, I want to do Musaf. And so he did. And in the words of Uncle Gerald ova shalom your performance in shul was “not bad!”.  For those of you who do not know, not bad in Cooklin speak means “well done, you did yourself proud”. Adam you are an amazing person. Your constantly smiling disposition hide an absolutely resolute personality about what is right, fair and achievable. The standards that you set yourself in everything that you do make life for your mother and I so easy. On this the start, and I stress this is the start, of your march towards manhood and your jewish identity, keep raising the bar and challenging yourself as I know you will.

So we are truly blessed to welcome so many of our family and good friends here tonight and, ladies and gentlemen before I get overly emotional and I promised Ads that I would not get overly emotional ( yeah I know a bit late for that now) I have one further request of you all………..You have an absolute duty to Adam, to Rachel, to Anne Marie and to me, that you eat, laugh, dance and party and make this a night to remember. Thank you.

It was such a great time....please give loads of hugs to Reece, the kids ask me about him regularly and we along with everybody on here hope he keeps progressing
xx

That last post was a fantastic speech Phil, I'm filling up as I type this..

+1

 ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause; ;applause;

Words fail me. Luckily, they don't fail you Phil. What a tale you tell!

I loved this.....

friends are there for a reason and you gain far more from helping a friend than that friend does from your help…….


How very true. My Dad taught me that very thing.

xx

I interrupt this thread with the following important news announcement. For some time now I have been harbouring a secret desire to try something new.....

I have tried hypnotherapy
Various relaxation techniques most of which should be left to the imagination
I am doing the weight loss thingy

but somehow I have always wondered what a colonic actually feels like and whether during my present diet I would either increase or decrease in weight. Also would I be secret colonic visitor or a full on, write it up kind of guy?

Got to go back in a while

Back again.....sorry fairly manic at work today. So I think I am going to be a write it up kind of guy, after all how embarrasing, painful, fun, cleansing can it be.......I think finally I can be signed up as insane........oh on the diet front this week we cascaded through the six stone marker. So diet and colonic I wonder what I can come up with for the third part of next weeks win treble............

So another Sunday and another visit to the swimming pool with Rachel. Had a cold all week and have various tough and nasty looking meetings for the week ahead but if it was easy they would not need me. Weigh in this week took me to a total of six stone lost. Six stone. Even now I can’t quite compute it. I mean 84 pounds does seem to my eyes quite a lot of weight and yet still I struggle on because my head is in the wrong place. I am still lacking in self control and my demise in weight loss would cause me to put the weight straight back on. That thought scares me immensely which means that I spend most of my time on the diet and then do some sort of psychotic binge routine. When I get to the root cause of the binge I will know and I mean really know and understand my relationship with food. I may go and visit my hypno therapist again to probe this one specific area. I mean one should not go on a journey without visiting all the sites including a visit to a colonics clinic whilst we are on the subject of probing.

And talking about going on a journey for the first time since its inception the Sky poker live event in Newcastle actually falls on a free weekend for me. So I am going. My affair with Newcastle has always been a particularly unpleasant one unfortunately and yet still I find myself liking the people. So I shall go on the Friday and return on the Sunday. Play a little poker (in my case a very little poker, more like high quality bingo) and hopefully change my experiences which are currently based on having a tooth knocked out and being made redundant oh and appearing in court for pulling a certain hand gesture. Me your honour I was just being a chirpy cockney your honour. Bound over and the police got a bollocking for wasting everybody’s time.

Okay so back to the Bar Mitzvah. Now you may all be spotting a certain pattern to all of this. I get up to speak and then as a reward for sitting through my inept drivel they all get a nice meal. Well my dear readers this was no exception and the diet can go hang as I tuck into the most expensive meal that I have ever paid for and enjoy without any guilt at all every single mouthful. Amma and I go working the tables and sharing jokes and trying to spend as much time as we can with our guests.

I am really enjoying hosting this event. I feel that the Bar Mitzvah has brought me to a completely new place in my life. Quick as a flash we are being ushered back to our seats for a few more speeches. Unfortunately I do not have Susie’s (my eldest sisters) speech/toast but the rest went as follows……..

Phil your ability to describe events are 2nd to none,your zest for life and enjoying it to its fullest is a joy to read especially the way you place yr family at the summit of all which you do.You are a credit to your parents and a role model for many,
personally you are my   B.O.Y

Blond Of the Year...( I omitted the t as it would have been just so wrong to call you my B.O.T.Y)

6st is absolutely amazing ;tightend; ;tightend;

now a full sized carboard cut out of your former self will keep you on the right track over the long haul all you'd have to do is just pop it out of the wardrobe when your feeling down and hey presto.....

Okay so there were two toasts that I do not have the speeches for....
the first , and it is always the first is the Loyal toast......given by Susie. this was quickly followed by the toast to the The President and the State of Israel.

Now both of these toasts were followed by the respective national anthems which strangely always makes me think of being at Wembley before a football international.

Then Rachel stands up and makes a speech about her brother......it went like this

                               Rachel’s speech for Adam’s bar mitzvah


My brother Adam. Hmm…where to start. So much to say, such little time.    This may take a while, so I hope you’re all sitting comfortably. 

I’d like to begin by saying how well Adam did in Shul yesterday.  He was awesome!   Over the last few months, I have listened to Mummy and Daddy nagging him time and time again to practise for his Barmitzvah and I’ve listened to him singing his Maftir, Haftorah and Musaff over and over and over again.  In fact I’ve listened to it so many times, I know it off by heart!!  Seriously, he really was fantastic and it made me very proud.

Having an older brother has many advantages.  Because he’s a boy, its relatively easy to wrap him round your little finger and because he’s older, you can let him do everything first and learn from his mistakes!!

We also have a great deal in common.  For instance we both enjoy swimming.  Adam’s enthusiasm for the sport started when he was very young – in fact, he’d only just started walking.   One Sunday afternoon we went to St Albans park to feed the ducks.  As we were walking round the lake, we found a clearing and stopped.  Mummy gave Adam some bread and Daddy walked to the water’s edge with Adam.  All fine so far.  As soon as the ducks cottoned on that there was food available, they started racing towards Adam.  They came from far and wide – there were hundreds of them.  Without hesitation, Adam, being one of the most generous people in the world, gave one of the ducks the piece of bread in his hand.   However, things took a turn for the worse.  When he gave the other piece of bread to the second duck waiting in line, Adam forgot to let go of the bread.  Typical Adam!!   Not only did the duck and the bread end up in the water, so did Adam!!  Daddy managed to keep hold of him just long enough to fish him out of the water.  And luckily, our friends had a change of clothes with them so Adam didn’t have to stay wet for too long.  Unfortunately for him, they were girls clothes – Adam, do you know how fetching you look in pink??

One of the things we share is the untidy gene we both inherited from Daddy.  It drives Mummy up the wall.   Phrases like “take something upstairs with you”, “you’re not going anywhere until you’ve tidied your room” and “the dirty washing goes in the washing basket, not on it” are Mummy’s mantra.   What she doesn’t realise is that we sometimes do things deliberately and have a bet on her response, just for fun.  I’m sure we will appreciate her nagging when we grow up and have our own homes and washing to do but for now, we’re not going to change.

One of the few things we don’t have in common is our taste in food. It drives Mummy mad because whatever Adam likes, I don’t and vice versa.   Ketchup is just one example.  Adam loves the stuff and eats it with absolutely everything.  I swear he would eat it neat without food if he could.   Adam - it might be worth buying a few shares in the company because I know you’re going to boost their profits for the next few years.

Since he’s been at Yavneh, Adam has developed a great skill when it comes to homework.  He uses all his powers of persuasion to get Mummy and Daddy and even me sometimes to do his homework for him without us realising what he’s up to.   So far, we’ve managed to achieve excellent marks in science, maths and English although we could do better in French and geography.  I’ve watched and learned with interest and will be applying the same techniques when I start secondary school. 

He’s also a champion sportsman, particularly when it comes to rugby, athletics, football, tennis, cycling and swimming.   I honestly think that the only reason he’s so good is because he hates to lose … Daddy, where do you think he gets that from??

And his powers of observation are legendary.  On a particularly hot day one summer, he was playing in the garden and came running into the house shouting at the top of his voice: “Mummy, Daddy, there’s two people in the garden next door with no clothes on.”  What he didn’t realise was that all the windows were open and everyone could hear him.  We had an interesting conversation about why some people choose to spend time in their back garden with no clothes on and also learned that our village is the home of the UK’s first ever nudist camp!   That winter, we planted lots of leafy bushes on one side of the garden so we didn’t encounter the nudists again!

These are just a few examples of adam’s interesting adventures and I am sure there are many more to come

Thank you
Enjoy the rest of your evening

A very eloquent young lady you have there Snatty...that's a great speech.

Indeed. Not only that but she has started to ask difficult questions like what is the difference between affected and effected

effect noun 1 a result. 2 an impression given or produced. 3 operation; a working state • The ban comes into effect today. 4 (usually effects) formal property. 5 (usually effects) devices, especially lighting and sound, used to create a particular impression in a film or on a stage, etc • special effects. verb (effected, effecting) formal to do something; to make something happen, or to bring it about. for effect in order to make an impression on others. give effect to something formal to do it or bring it into operation. in effect in reality; practically speaking.take effect to begin to work; to come into force. to the effect that formal with the meaning or result that. to good or some, etc effect with much or some, etc success. to no effect with no success. to that effect formal with that meaning or intended result. with effect from formal coming into operation or becoming valid at (a specified time). with immediate effect formal as from now.
ETYMOLOGY: 14c as noun: French, from Latin effectus.

affect1 verb (affected, affecting) 1 to have an effect on someone or something. 2 to cause someone to feel strong emotions, especially sadness or pity. 3 said of diseases: to attack or infect. noun psychol 1 the emotion linked with a particular idea or mental image. 2 the predominant mood, feelings or emotions in a person's mental state.
ETYMOLOGY: 17c: from Latin afficere.


Still not sure I understand now !!!!!!!!

I always remembered is as if it could cause affection it affected someone.

Rachel doing her speech

And so the speeches come thick and fast. Adam's two best friends are up next....
First Josh P


This court is duly convened to decide the fate of Adam Cooklin. Will the defendant please rise.

Adam, that is you – please rise!

I, Joshua Peters bringing the case for the prosecution, hereby charge Adam with the following crimes against society:-

1.   When we first met at the age of 7, you were seen being dragged into school by your parents. On the grounds of being unwilling to attend school – guilty!

2.   When asked by the teacher to prepare a landscape drawing, you proceeded to cover the page in dots, and when questioned you claimed that your drawing was an abstract and were swiftly despatched from the classroom – guilty!

3.   When we were in the school choir we objected to the words of the songs praising the name of Jesus, so we secretly changed it to Avraham and Moshe. On the charge of blasphemy – guilty!

4.   When we went to the Isle of Wight on a school trip, we went into the girls’ rooms and swapped all the luggage around. On the charge of acting like a British Airways luggage handler - guilty!

5.   When engaged in conversation you often resort to the use of the words “cheese” and “yum “. For being inarticulate – guilty!

6.   There may be some redeeming features like helping me to get better at sport, but this often ends up with me on the ground, in a bush or stuffed up a tree. For being far too strong - guilty!

7.   On the recent trip to France you bought a watch for 5 euros and then sold it to another classmate for 6! On the charge of being a potential entrepreneur on the dragons den – guilty!

My lords and ladies, the case for the prosecution now rests.

[Noah then does his case for the defence and then can hand back to Joshua]

And up steps Noah

NOAH’S SPEECH

My lords, ladies, boys and girls, you have heard the case for the prosecution from my learned friend Joshua Peters. 

Before you decide on a verdict, I would like to put to you the case for the Defence of my good friend Adam Cooklin. 

My name is Noah Aziz and I first met Adam at Newberries Primary School when I joined in Year 4. 

Now, whilst my learned friend Joshua Peters is a highly experienced prosecutor, he has cited many examples of Adam’s crimes against society. 

I implore you - do not be swayed by his suave appearance, his wit, his height (look at Joshua cheekily) or his sharp tongue. 

I am not going to answer the charges individually.  I will, however, leave you in no doubt that Adam Cooklin is very funny, kind-hearted, generous and obviously has exceptionally good judgement demonstrated by his great taste in friends.      (Pause)

One of the things that struck me early on about Adam was that he is a bit of a joker.  He is always larking about which usually gets him into quite a bit of trouble.   

He’s also very good at interrupting which drives everybody mad!  And his friends aren’t the only ones to feel this way. Last year, his teacher gave him a prestigious award - for being the pupil most likely to interrupt the class.   

Adam – although we’ll hear from Adam in a moment, Joshua and I are going to make the most of being in the spotlight because its one of the few occasions when you have to keep quiet and can’t interrupt!!

I believe that Adam and I became good friends because we have so much in common: charm, good-looks, a cheeky smile, an eye for the girls, boundless intelligence and ………. last but no least, height!




It is true that Adam is lively and energetic and these are just a few of his positive character traits.  Adam is a fun person to be around and enthusiastic about everything he does – be it rugby, the school play, or even his homework! 

He’s also obsessed with the Playstation, online games and the Wii, but I can match him any day despite the fact that he hates losing!!   

He puts effort into everything.  I know that I can count on Adam to be there for me whenever I need help with my homework – which is quite frequently - or if I want advice about anything.

We’ve had some really good times together over the years – school camp, Legoland in the pouring rain and last summer in Spain – to name but a few. 

We’ve even done a self defence course together – Adam got quite into it and I’d certainly want him on my team if we ever needed to use these skills again. 

We spend a great deal of time together both in school, at Shul and generally hanging out and having fun.  And when we’re not together, we’re usually chatting on MSN – just don’t tell my Mum!!!  (look up and smile!)

So this is my case for the Defence.   My learned colleague Joshua Peters – what do you have to say?

[Joshua says “Whilst I have mentioned a number of stories about Adam … etc ]

Noah concludes;
Of course its up you all of you to decide (extend arm across the room) but both Joshua and I would like to direct you to find the defendant, Adam Cooklin, not guilty of crimes against society, so that he isn’t locked up indefinitely and can enjoy the rest of this evening’s celebrations. 


noah then hands back to Joshua



Whilst I have mentioned a number of stories about Adam, I would also like to say that our history together is littered with occasions where I have stood up for Adam (you may have guessed that this is by using my mouth) because he is a trusted friend and one who looks out for me – a great combination of my mouth and his fists!

Of course it’s for you the jury to decide, but let Noah and I please direct you to find the defendant not guilty so that he can enjoy the rest of his great celebrations. 


The boys.....two half pints and their tall mate

Then Adam responds

My Bar Mitzvah Speech
Rabbi, Booba, Zaida, Grandma and Grandpa. Rachel family and friends and of course Mummy and Daddy. Before I respond to the kind words from Joshua and Noah it falls on me now that I am a man to carry out certain important tasks which are the sole responsibility of a Bar Mitzvah boy.
We are so pleased to have with us tonight family and friends from all over the UK, Spain and, of course, Israel.  Thank you so much for coming and sharing this lovely experience with me and for your generous gifts.       
I wouldn’t have been able to deliver my Maftir and Haftorah and lead  Mussaf yesterday without the help, knowledge and patience of my teacher Joel.  Every week without fail his sense of humour - after all he does support Newcastle United – together with Nehama’s delicious biscuits gave me the will to put the effort in and I must say the experience has been fantastic.   As a mark of my appreciation Joel, please come up and receive this gift.
I am so lucky to have all four of my grandparents here today shlapping nachus with their family and friends around them.  You all give me unconditional love and support and your homes are two of my favourite restaurants.  I have for each of you a memento of my Barmitzvah which I expect to see on display the next time I come to visit.
I am also lucky to have Rachel as a sister.  You spoke beautifully in Shul yesterday and I’d like to thank you so much for your kind words earlier.   I have to say that you look stunning tonight, quite a change from your normal attire of track suit bottoms and a sweatshirt.    It is a special kind of sister who always lets me have the last yogurt, watch what I want to on TV and allows me to use her as a rugby tackle bag even though she doesn’t have a choice.
On our sideboard, there are many awards for various achievements.  Rachel has trophies for Tae Qwondo.  Daddy has trophies for the dark art of poker.  Even I have trophies for rugby and athletics.   But one person is missing from our trophy cabinet.  Mummy, you are the rock on which the rest of us can go out and achieve what we do and I have for you here your very own trophy which I would like to tell you comes from all three of us with a huge thank you.   But I can only give it to you if you stop crying. 
Daddy, I know how hard it was for you to get me to practise for my Bar Mitzvah.  I know it was hard because of the number of times you had to shout at me.   In fact, you shouted at me even more than you do at the rugby.  Thank you and Mummy for all the help, support and guidance you give me, some of which has gone in one ear and out the other.   Thank you also for this fantastic weekend which will stay with me for the rest of my life.
Thank you Noah and Joshua for your kind words.  Your friendship is something that I’m truly grateful for even though you’re both half my size.   We have always had a great deal of fun together from Newberries and now at Yavneh College.  I hope this continues long into the future.
I realise that being Bar Mitzvah is not the end but rather the beginning of both my religious observance and understanding.  Being at Yavneh College gives me the opportunity to pursue my thirst for Jewish knowledge and put it into practise. 
During this weekend, many people have said some really lovely things about me which is quite embarrassing.   I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression – nobody is perfect, not even me. 
I have made a few mistakes in my life and one stands out in my memory.  One day shopping with Daddy for some training shoes, I had wandered off looking at the boys trainers.  Some of the shoes I was looking at were really quite cool.   It was a small shop with only one other customer.  Daddy tapped me on the back and I ignored him.   As it turned out this was a big mistake.  I had  got a bit bored looking at the boys trainers and looked around the store.  I could see someone bending down trying on a pair of shoes who I thought was my dad.  I ran without thinking and smacked their bottom hard.  Imagine my surprise when the person turned around and it wasn’t my dad at all.  It was a woman looking at the ladies shoes.  I rushed over to my dad in tears.  He apologised to the lady immediately and we ran out of the shop together.  This taught me a number of things: not to rush in without thinking, that not all practical jokes are funny and that if you get something wrong, it is always wise to say sorry quickly and run.
Another memorable moment came when I was lucky enough to get my very own mobile phone. It had only taken me two years of nagging, begging pleading and the occasional tantrum, all mixed up with a hefty dose of schmoozing but eventually they caved in. I was so excited that on the first night I pressed all the buttons and by mistake somehow managed to leave the phone overnight connected to the internet, or t’internet as my daddy calls it. Gosh that is so annoying because he thinks it is so funny. Anyway to cut a long story short I thought nothing of it until a month later when Mummy came home really upset about something. I could tell she was upset because she didn’t watch Eastenders that night. Anyway Mummy and Daddy had one of those whispered conversations that parents have when they are discussing you and think you can’t hear. It was at this point that I went up to my room got into my pyjamas and went to bed at 7pm. No point in delaying the inevitable. Unfortunately for me they called me back downstairs and sat me down for a  “conversation”. I realised not only was I not going to get out of this one easily, I had better offer to pay the bill.  At this point Mummy pointed out to me that although it was a very generous offer it would take me a long time to pay back the £650 to O2. Luckily for me, Mummy and Daddy decided to go to war with O2. Now I do not know if you have ever seen them in action together but the people at O2 realised quickly that it was probably better for them to not chase the money. It may have been Daddys phone call asking to speak to the chief executive, I think he got palmed off with the sales director or Mummys threat to ask Watchdog to investigate the lifting of internet restrictions on a phone without authoriasation. Either way the bills are back to fifteen pounds a month.
I learnt from this that my parents are an awesome team and a force to be reckoned with and so if you want to keep them happy please make sure that you are up here dancing at every opportunity and make this a real night to remember.

and so we did......but not before Adam played with the band

and so we danced lots and had the time of our lives and all too quickly it was time to wrap up. This honour was left to Anne Marie and this  what she said

This is the saddest task of the evening because it’s my responsibility to say the closing words, not only for tonight’s party, but also for Adam’s amazing Barmitzvah weekend. 
When we first started planning it, I don’t think either Phil or I could have imagined how fantastic this Barmitzvah could be.  And it wouldn’t have been such a special weekend without all of you – your love, your kind words, good wishes and generous gifts.  We are truly blessed to be surrounded by such fantastic friends and family and we want to you know how much we appreciate it.
Its also my responsibility to thank the team without whom tonight would not have happened.  Helen, Marian and the guys at the Majestic for their fantastic food and facilities, our toastmaster Steven Warwick who has guided us through the evening so professionally, Ilan for leading the dancing – how much energy does that guy have??!! – Caroline our photographer and Jag our video man, and, of course, Pure Orange and their amazing music.   Also, a special thank you to one of my oldest friends, Lynne, who made our beautiful table centres and has given us so much help and advice in the run up to tonight’s party. 
Now there’s one person without whom this weekend couldn’t have been possible and that’s my darling husband Phil.   Adam talked earlier about the two of us being a force to be reckoned with and there’s no doubt in my mind that Phil certainly is that.   His focus, strength and determination in everything he does is legendary.  Whether its learning to play poker, encouraging Adam or Rachel to achieve something or repairing our PC when it crashes, he won’t stop until he’s satisfied that the task is complete.   Its that determination which has enabled him to lose an incredible amount of weight in record time – doesn’t he look great??    His logical and balanced approach to life together with his good nature and sense of humour are just some of the reasons why I love him so much.
We have had such a superb weekend and we wish it could just go on and on. Please drive home carefully and thank you so much from Phil, Adam, Rachel and me for making it such a special time for us. Thank you and goodnight

Ladies and gentlemen I give you the final instalment of the Bar Mitzvah. It has been a few weeks now ands things have settled back to normal. It is funny hw quickly the mind forgets the oh so special emotions of the weekend. I look at the photos though and just start smiling. It was just so much fun..... the best

Ladies and gentlemen

The Cooklins

Cracking stuff and a great read Snatty. That black and white photo is quality, a definite keeper.
It's the way it has to be with these things I guess, the euphoria followed by a quick return to normality.
Imagine 365 Christmas Days every year?! Even those that proclaim to enjoy the whole 25 December experience (you like it, really?), which would rule out the likes of myself, Tikay and many others I'm sure, wouldn't want that.
Stand-out days are just that, one-off to get pumped up for and enjoyed.

On our sideboard, there are many awards for various achievements.  Rachel has trophies for Tae Qwondo.  Daddy has trophies for the dark art of poker.  Even I have trophies for rugby and athletics.   But one person is missing from our trophy cabinet.  Mummy, you are the rock on which the rest of us can go out and achieve what we do and I have for you here your very own trophy which I would like to tell you comes from all three of us with a huge thank you.   But I can only give it to you if you stop crying. 

She was not the only one crying at that most wonderful choice of words by Adam. The Cooklin ability to use the right words, at the right time, will continue for at least another generation.

You must be incredibly proud. You are incredibly lucky, & you know it. That's the neat bit.

Thank you for a wonderful tale Phil. Have enjoyed every single Post of this "Barmitzvah" story.

A Best of blonde shoe-in.

Fantastic Phil, just fantastic.

It must have been one of the best bar-mitzvas ever, and how clever it was of you to start this diary.

+1

you must be SO SO proud of your family :)

I would of course have to point out that the diary was of course Dewi's idea

 rotflmfao ;tightend;

What a lovely family!  And those speeches?!  I don't even know what to say now because it would pale in comparison.  A proud week-end on many levels for each of you.  Well done.

+1 after all this time you still deliver ...

So here we are back in Germany finalising budgets for next year. A particularly fraught time all round not totally helped by leaving the house at 4.50am. What is worse somebody just asked me to rate the song in my head and the theme tune from Quincey ME came up.......needless to say I will not even rate it.

Well my weight has remained fairly stable which considering the amount of substance abuse over the last few weeks is nigh on a miracle. Anyway I have been very good this morning and we will take it one hour at a time just like at the very start.

I had a week of doing things I promised myself I would never do last week. The rebellious gene was in full flow. So I played something that vaguely looked like poker on Wednesday even though I had promised not to play until I finished the diet.

I also went and had a colonic......now the worst film of all time was based around Kellogg's use of colonics. It was called the Road to Wellville. I actually wanted to poke my own eyes out whilst watching this film and I couldn't just stand up and walk out even though that is what I wanted to do as we had been invited there by some very good friends.

More to follow......going in to get my arsed kicked by the senior managers

No fancy shmancy words from me Phil, just a simple, heart-felt "Thank you" for those wonderful bar-mitzva stories.

Note to self - don't do a catch up on Snatty's posts at work - laughing out loud you can get away with, a tear in the eye is hard to explain. That paragraph TK highlighted is beautiful. You're a lucky man Phil.

Well as it happens the senior managers were in benevolent mood and the three and a half hour budget and strategy meeting went really quite well.
The Road to Wellville did not. So many top names not least Alan Parker and Anthony Hopkins, one would have expected better anyway.....nuff said. So with some trepidation I decided to go the Dingdell clinic for mildly tortured but adventurous minds. Now at this point I would like to say that we are going to skip a bit, well a lot really. What I can tell you is that it felt remarkably cleansing and I have booked in for another session. The whole process was calming and hats off to you Tracey you are damn good at what you do. I would say that the drive home was a touch troubling but Toddington hove into sight just in time.
Now i would like to take the time to thank so many people for posting, pming and just taking an interest in the thread. It has supported far more than I let on. Naturally as has been observed I am tremendously proud of my family but also very wary that I know what pride comes before.
Well the euphoria is over but now we are going to everybody elses Bar Mitzvah and in January we will be going to Spain and Israel (Rachies first ever trip) for two special events. The good news has just kept on coming. We got a letter from the school saying Adam had been moved into top stream for religious studies. He is leading Musaf at school in January and the rugby team are currently league leaders. He seems to spend every day laughing and smiling it is as good as it gets as a parent except right at this moment he is singing Mama Mia.....and well out of tune as well.
I am a little concerned about Rachel she is not stretched at school and I worry that she will not go up the gears when she gets to senior school. Still she has a great right hook and stands a full 5 inches taller than her classmates which will make her a sure thing for the netball team. Her football skills have also improved and her front up tackling is reminiscent of the great Chopper Harris.
The Mrs. and I had a humdinger of a row on Sunday. Partially my fault. Well mostly my fault. Well it was all my fault according to Anne Marie. We are both pretty feisty people and when we go at it, the kids get well out of the way. Our relationship needs the occasional thunderstorm to clear the air. I hope the kids do not get too affected by it.
As we enter the festive period I find myself ready for a break. To spend a morning or two having a lie in, to go for a walk around the wood, watch some rugby, play some poker and quite possibly eat some toast. In January I intend to get to my target weight. I will probably go and get some counselling as well as I need to be able to control the triggers that make me abuse myself with white carbohydrates. The problem with my form of abuse is that it is easily accessible, legal, cheap and just like alcohol is an absolute killer.

The story will run and run and I may have to go round many times before I am truly happy but the best journeys are ones that are taken slowly. We have covered some ground on this thread and I have enjoyed every single moment, but just like coming to the end of a good bottle of red wine  (might I recommend the Crozes Hermitage) it is time to toddle of to bed to go to sleep. So here it is. The final post of the diary. I could not have imagined any other place where I would have had felt comfortable writing in the way I have. The members of this community are very special.............it is easy to forget sometimes let this stand as a permanent reminder.

THE END

This is all. A big

THANK YOU

entertained,enriched,enthralled  ;tightend; ;applause;

THANK YOU 

We look forward to part 2 when the time comes for Rachel's Batmitzvah..................thanks for a fantastic 6 months of reading.

Thanks Phil

Ta muchly.  ;hattip;

It's all wrong - like when Elvis died. Ty Phil for a great read. xx