Let it snow...

Well. We live in England, a Northern Hemisphere country with an extremely changeable climate. We have four marked seasons (often in one day) and yet we are still, as ever, unprepared for snow and poor weather conditions. In November. And today is the 1st of December and the official start of Winter. It's all a little pathetic isn't it?

I am writing this because I am sat at home in my pjs as my school is closed today. There are no problems with the heating and the school site itself is fine. The roads around Bexley and Kent on the other hand are treacherous. Under the snow is ice. And it's a bit slippy. And it's about -1c. Which is a bit nippy isn't it? So I understand why it's closed - health and safety of the students getting to and from the school and the fact that many teachers live in Kent and they might not make it into school. One of my Department was stuck on the sliproad off the A2 into Blackfen for an hour and a half yesterday. A slip road that's about 500 metres long. For an hour and a half. She could almost see the school from her car yet couldn't move! Madness.

But what to do...? Most teachers will be jumping up and down with glee at having a 'snow day' but whilst I'm glad not to be driving in dangerous conditions I would rather be at school working. Yeah, yeah... whatever... I know. But it's true. The kids, of course, will love having a day off and the ones that made it in yesterday did nothing but moan before being allowed to leave at noon.

I can understand that those people who live in Canada and other parts of the world where snow and wintery conditions are an accepted part of everyday life are laughing at Britain's inability to deal with a bit of snow - practically all of the SouthEastern Train service has ground to a halt - but we hardly had any snow for years and then the last three years have been pretty bad (cue global warming conspiracy theories!). Apparantly the snow we get in this country is wet and different to that in Canada. I don't know what that means but it creates chaos!

I will probably be off tomorrow as well - there is an easterly wind (all the way from Siberia!) and temperatures will struggle to get above freezing and according to the BBC the wind chill factor will make it seem more like -7. More snow is forecast but we will see. My wife made it to work but only after deciding on bus, tube and a trek across the bridge to the FT. Trains weren't running you see.

As much as I love the romantic notion of the wintery scene - you know, fresh snow on trees, robin redbreast, children sledging and making snowmen - the disruption caused is a colossal pain in the arse. SO. I shall just stay in, keep warm, maybe do some baking, definitely do some school work and keep myself busy and WARM. And of course, there is always daytime TV and the repetitive loop of Sky Sports News. Enjoy...

Zoot Alors!

I think I'd like to be French...

Well sometimes. I'm actually too lazy to learn the language. I don't particularly want to live there, well not long enough to gain citizenship - but I do, sometimes, get a little funny feeling that I could be a Frenchman. Now what does that actually mean? Wearing a stripey Breton top, a beret and riding a bicycle with a string of onions around my neck? No. That's a racist stereotype. Too much 'Allo 'Allo.

Maybe I could be like David Ginola or Eric Cantona. It's the idea of pairing absolute creative genius with total nonchalance and either the ability to chin someone or have lovely hair.

Eric Cantona - Flawed genius? Artist? Mad Frenchman?

Now I am neither a creative genius - I have my moments of inspiration but that's about it - and neither am I nonchalant. Eric Cantona would use sublime skill and genius improvisation to outwit an opponent or score a goal. He'd then scrape his shins down someone's head, get red carded and shrug. Or go ballistic. Maybe karate kick an opposition fan on the way back to the changing rooms... that kind of thing. I'd like to do that. Well, maybe not actually do it but I'd like to think I could...

The French don't have a great record of producing music: Vanessa Paradis - Joe le Taxi; F.R.David -Words; Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin (though she's British!) - Je T'aime Moi Non Plus. There are obviously some fantastic musicians from France though, for instance Air - wonderful group - stylish, cool but never quite fashionable. And there are some serious Jazz musicians. And I love the music of Yann Tiersen - the Amelie soundtrack is so French! At least to a non-French person it is... No. It's not the music that makes me want to be French.

Perhaps the idea of being a great lover? I guess we could all do with a few improvements here and there but the stereotype of the Frenchman as a great lover is dead. Recent studies in France have shown the nation's libido is suffering - unless of course it involves having an extra-marital affair (another sterotype - French people allegedly have poor morals). I don't want to do that. And my wife would kill me. The idea of being a Pepe Le Pew smooth, French Lover (and also another racist sterotype - the French as smelly) is not what I want either. I am not smooth, I might try to be charming, but I'm not a lounge lizard. Or a skunk.

Style, panache, a certain 'je nais se quoi'? Ah fashion... now we're talking. The French have, of course, an amazing tradition of Haute Couture - maybe more for women than men but Yves Saint Laurent, Christian Dior, Jean Paul Gaultier, Christian Lacroix and  Louis Vitton are French fashion houses respected worldwide. Other fashion brands such as Hermes and Zilli at the top end and Lacoste and shoe company Kickers at the high street end are still popular.There are probably many stores with French origins or French designers that I don't know about but I have to admit - there is a certain style to be being a Frenchman (and I'm thinking Alain Delon circa 1960's film here - sharp suits, hats, macs, sunglasses, etc.) but you could argue that Italians and the Brits also have style.

Alain Delon - French style icon and symbol of French Masculinity

Maybe I want to become a philospher... philosophy is inextricably linked with the French. And I love the way that they steadfastly try to protect the French Language by saying NON! to modern vocabulary.

I guess the real thing that makes me want to be French - and again it is a stereotype - is the cuisine. Not just the fancy, Michelin star dining but the peasant food, the farmer's markets, the wine, the cheese and the importance of meals (I could be Italian or Spanish as well... easily!).  I am easily swayed by listening and watching Rick Stein extolling the virtues of the French. I love the Roux family and to be quite honest my life could easily revolve around good wine and fabulous cheese and bread. Not sure what that would do for my health though.

And Paris. I love Paris. It's just so... so French but a different French from the rest of the country.

Yes... I think I'd like to be French. Just for a bit. But I'm quite happy being English most of the time.

Facial Hair Thoughts

I have issues. Beard issues. I can't grow one... not properly. Don't get me wrong, I still have a face full of beard hair but it's... patchy. A bit like marsh land. And to be honest I look like I should have a dog on a rope and be shouting 'Big Issue!' in the middle of the street. Even when I'm wearing a suit. The trouble is, I absolutely hate shaving. Detest it. I'm 38 in a few days and I still can't shave properly. If I have a shave, going with the grain, I need to shave again 3 minutes later. If I go against the grain then, apart from the obvious bleeding and razor rash, I come out with spots 24 hours later. And it's not like I don't prep properly either, well sometimes I don't, but I have tried everything: different razors (ranging from BIC disposables to 7 razored vibrating sushi knives to electric); different products; different types of pre-shave treatments; shaving at different times of the day and with different temperatures of water.

My lack of prominent chin also means that I am compared to everyone from Dave Grohl (not bad) to David Guest (not great) to Jeremy Beadle (not good at all - insert hand joke here). I shall shave in due course - I promise. My beautiful wife has said she doesn't mind my beard at the moment, as it is a bit longer it is therefore a bit softer - she hates it when I have stubble and my face exfoliates hers. She also knows that I long to be a Pirate. I know she prefers me clean shaven but I feel she understands my pain - Christ! Women go through enough razor, tweezer and epilator related evil as it is...

I also have to contend with the fact that, as I approach 40, my beard has started to become peppered with grey... well white actually. Worse than that is before a hair turns white it seems to turn ginger! So my straggly marshland-like beard is a matted rug of different colours - still predominantly dark, but highlighted with red and white. I also find myself staring at it for hours in the mirror. I'm a mess. And so is my beard. Anyway, the real question I wanted to explore is this: Can you ever trust someone with a beard?


Does a large amount of facial hair mean they're covering something up? Does a beard add a dash of mystery? Or does it add a sinister, malevolent air to a man? Does it make a man more manly (think rugby players)? Or does it make the more effeminate (think of the tidy-privet beard)? Or does it make you think of ridiculous guys (often Asian but white guys are not immune to this either), with massive knotted ties working in the Carphone Warehouse, who have decided that facial hair is an art-from and have taken to trimming their beards and 'tasches to millimetre perfect angles and shapes?

Can you take someone with a beard seriously? Or do you think of Dahl's Mr Twit saving his breakfast, the odd cornflake lodged in there to be devoured later? Anyhoo... I've finished with the beard related rhetorical questions now. I'm going to make a Goan Fish Curry. I may shave tomorrow or I may turn up at school with a very distinctive smelling beard.