Column CALL ME BOND
So the Chilean Miners are out – and what a story that was. Didn’t it have everything? – pregnant wives, the mistress and the missus finding out about each other, heart, faith, bravery and a good old happy ending. The world was united in watching and willing them to survive and cheering them on when they made their appearance on terra firma to be cuddled by their loved ones. I cried more than I did at Old Shep. And because the miners went through that experience together, you know they’ll be bonded for life. I think we, in a mining area, felt things a little closer to our hearts because we know how flaming dangerous and hard the profession of mining is. And to get a glimpse of it for yourselves – go to Wakefield Mining Museum and travel down to the belly of the earth like our dads and granddads did. Now I’m not saying that my week on Come Dine With Me is ANYTHING like that, but what I will say is that anyone who goes through an intense shared experience is liable to bond. I find that a fascinating part of human nature that even the more isolated of people will reach out and connect when trauma or excitement rocks their world.
You might have watched our Come Dine With Me on TV and thought ‘I bet this lot never see each other again’ but you’d be so wrong. That week was the most intensive of my life and even the crew are in the ‘circle’. When you’ve had sound men down your cleavage as much as I had that week, an engagement was nearly on the cards, never mind a friendship. I won far more than the money that week – I won a whole new set of pals – and we are. Beautiful Verene (or Veneer as Lady Bacardi calls her) the hilarious Paul, the gentlemanly Phil (who converted me both to Prosecco and lamb!) and the flamboyant Christian. Inbetween the competitive aspects there was genuine warmth and laughter and when V burst into tears on the last night off-camera, it kind of summed it up for all of us. This week, seeing the filmed results, has been like living it all again – something I would be very happy to do. Oh and for anyone who missed us – we’re available for the next couple of weeks on the link below. Ours was bonding built on a happy time, unlike those poor miners. What did our granddads do without stress counselling when they had a fall? I just hope and pray that the story in six months time shows a band of brothers who aren’t too mentally scarred and find that the life they thought was over is something to be relished and enjoyed with renewed vigour.
Milly
I’m Just A Girl... ‘I’d rather not be, cos they won’t let me drive late at night’ to quote Gwen Stefani - to quote Gwen Stefani - Or in Jordan’s case, ‘they won’t let me drive a pink, 7 tonne horse box onto the pavement or use an iPhone at the wheel on the A23’. Well, not without getting 3 points on your license anyway.Her excuse for driving like a DUI Barbie twice in one week, was priceless (pun intended) ‘I’m just a typical woman driver’. While I sub-consciously added her latest brainless comment to The Book Of ‘Stupid Things I Say’ (Volume 103) by JordanRealNameKatiePrice as she’s known, it became clear that although she unwittingly angered nearly every woman driver in the country, she had simply resorted the last refuge in female defense. What she really meant is “I’ve been caught, there’s no denying it and so I’ll fall back onto the tried and tested way of getting out of it” and therefore played the ‘Just A Girl’ card. The ‘Just A Girl’ card (lets call it the JAG) is one many of us, at some point, have played to get out of trouble - myself included. It comes in many forms - helplessness, weakness (physical or otherwise) sometimes even acting a bit, well… dim (I’m in a 30mph zone? REALLY officer? I didn’t know…) and is most effective when accompanied by some well-timed tears and the kind of sad face that Puss uses on Shrek to lull his potential victims into thinking that he’s just a harmless kitty cat… just before the claws come out. We can all play down our strengths when it comes to getting our own way and being a girl, I’ve convincingly cried my way out of many situations with parents, teachers, police and more frequently of all, my husband. The JAG card is like a magic ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ (somebody should tell Lindsay Lohan) that when played correctly can be a girl’s most powerful ally. A recent poll found that 88% of us had successfully used being female as an excuse or avoidance measure in the past, with just over half doing so regularly. Parking the car is apparently the top situation in which some of us tend to play the JAG card, with 67% admitting that they had blamed rubbish parking on the fact they are female. 56% used the excuse to avoid catching insects (only 56?) 19% refuse to take out the rubbish and 40% of us will ask a man to get the lids off jars and carry heavy bags for us and at the risk of sending Germaine Greer spinning into an early grave – what’s wrong with that?? It’s a scientific fact that men are stronger than women AND have far bigger hands which are designed to carry shopping bags. Catching spiders? Sorry, but aren’t our men supposed to be our protectors? And as for DIY, compared to the amount of housework us girls do already, is it really too much to ask that we get him to paint the bannister once every 5 years? I mean, have you seen the damage satin gloss can do to a manicure? Besides, we’re not the only ones who can give in to stereotypes when it suits. How many times have you seen a bloke’s face pale in terror at the bank holiday war-cry “Let’s go to Ikea!” or listened to the dying whimpers of a bloke with Man-FluTM? (for the record Man-Flu does NOT exist guys, you know it, we know it, we’re just humouring you, you have a cold). The Hoover almost short circuits in shock whenever my husband goes near it (although the lawnmower would probably do the same with me) and I’m sure he thinks the iron is a kind of medieval torture device. From yelping in your heels to get yourself a piggy back, to getting your dad to wash your car - if we’re being honest, we’ve all done dealt a few JAG cards and why shouldn’t we? In most areas of life, we girls are pretty stoical and self-sufficient, so give us a break. Compared to waxing, bleaching, period pain, labour, spike heels, growing out a blunt fringe etc, asking someone to get the lid off a jam jar is a pretty small ask don’t you think?
www.channel4.com/programmes/come-dine-with-me/4od
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Written by Joe Milburn. November 2010
4/11/10 12:37:44