Kackle Kackle: Happy Anniversary Page Three?

Kackle Kackle: Happy Anniversary Page Three?

Happy Anniversary Page Three?

Today, 20^th November 2010 is the 40^th anniversary of the page three model in the Sun, and it got me wondering what that says about our society that our best selling newspaper still trades on topless female models.

I can remember back in the eighties trying to strike a blow back for women by having one of the first saucy calendars of male models in my office but feeling somewhat embarrassed by its presence when older male members of my team joined me in the office and so eventually took it home. I have since enjoyed other similar excursions with a little more courage but frankly a calendar with beautiful scenery, of the non-human variety, inspires me more.

There have been one or two items on Radio 4 about this anniversary, not least on Woman’s Hour, where the debate has not reached any satisfactory conclusion for either side. I do not disagree that it is great to live in a society where women feel able to confidently use their bodies in a way that makes them feel empowered; but that same society will not legalise prostitution and allow it to come out of the hands of the, generally male, pimps and seamy underworld.

To me a topless model appearing on a daily basis in a popular newspaper is a way of keeping women ‘in their place’ in much the same way as, I believe, the Burka and possibly more so as it exploits the female form. It positions women as a commodity and it is that which makes me feel uncomfortable. Because it is in the most popular daily paper it takes a message into the homes of young families and sets a tone for how women are perceived very early on in some young children’s lives.

As humans I believe we each have the right to be treated with dignity and respect. I find it very hard to believe that men who leer at women in a newspaper on the way to work will treat them as equals once they cross the threshold of the office. In the time the page three model has been around women have achieved a great deal in the workplace but are still under represented in the boardroom, parliament and even in senior managerial positions in industries that are dominated by female staff. Equality has a long way to go.

I know of friends who use their feminine attributes to distract the hapless male in the workplace and I confess I may even have engaged in a little of that activity myself at one time. So perhaps we are just as guilty, if a little more subtle, of trying to keep the men in ‘their place’?

Am I just a bitter old crone? Does anyone agree with me? Have a missed something somewhere along the line? Feel free to put me right; but if you agree with me, tell me that as well.

I rather enjoyed that...

A couple of days away without the two most demanding males in my life – son and border collie – was ‘just the job’ as the one I allowed to accompany would say. We headed off to Whitby for a couple of days aimless wandering, sitting in pubs and eating good food.

We stayed at a delightful B&B – Autumn Leaves - just five minutes amble from the centre of town, albeit a bit testing on the way home as the hills was a bit steep, but not as steep as Steep Hill here in Lincoln. We had a lovely room with stacks of space and nice touches like buttered scones and jam in the room when we returned from ambling. Also, there was a garage in which to put the treasured Boxster.

One of the high spots came early on in the break when we enjoyed a splendid meal on the first night at Green’s, a bistro style restaurant where the boats and skippers that delivered the ingredients for our meal were listed on the menu and chalkboard. If you enjoy fresh fish prepared in an imaginative way then this is the place to eat. We were lucky to get a table, as we had not pre-booked; consequently, we were sat just by the kitchen. This kept hubby entertained as he watched the frenetic activity of the Chef and his assistant – don’t think he was fascinated enough to take up cooking himself though.

The following day was spent wandering from beach to beach in the Boxster then we abandoned it in its garage in the afternoon and went for a pint or three – not done that at that time of day for a while now. During this spot of R&R we got talking to a couple from Wolverhampton similarly escaping parenthood for a few days, clearly a lot of it about!

food of the gods....

I confess, I love my food and I delight in food that is everyday fare produced and served in an exceptional way. Today I had one of those experiences.

Fish and chips can be mediocre, sometimes it can be very disappointing and a source of digestive problems. But a plate of perfectly prepared and cooked fish and chips, with mushy peas and white bread and butter is the food of the gods. Today I had just such a plate at Bardney Heritage Centre. Yes, a little tea room and haunt of steam train geeks at the end of the cycle path from Lincoln is an oasis. A rare treat in this fine county where, to be honest, fish and chips is rarely done well.

We chose to drive there, that was because Mum was with us and I don't have a means of attaching her wheelchair to my bike - nor am I ever likely to before some wag sends me details of how to do this. It is very easy to find as you come over the bridge into the village. Friday and Saturday lunchtime is the time to go (or they now do a take away service on the same evenings). It is well worth the trip. Mum managed to establish they use fizzy water in the batter but there was definitely more to it than that. They use very fresh fish, succulent and pure white; and the chips are peeled and cut by hand on the day so are all sorts of funny shapes and sizes but they are real!!! A fabulous treat - and I indulged in a chip butty :)

It's only Rock and Roll

Those of you who follow my facebook posts will know I have been following the Rock and Roll Band series on BBC2. The series finale was a viewers vote from the top three nominations in each category of best band, lead guitarist, drummer, bass player and of course lead singer. The top three came from the online vote, which selected from a top ten chosen by music industry experts.

The event itself led to some fairly heated debate both on the show and on facebook - what actually is Rock and Roll? Those already collecting their pensions for some years now will hark back to the early days of 50s rock and roll - Bill Hayley and His Comets, Elvis Presley, Eddie Cochrane, and so on whereas the folks just starting out on their pensions will be drawn to The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and The Who. Those moving towards pensionable age might favour Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Cheap Trick.... and what about the glam rockers? And the younger rockers might look to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Nirvana, Green Day and Kings of Leon. So what is rock and roll and how does it differ from the catch all of pop(ular) music?

For me rock and roll must have an element of danger about it – the band should not include people you would feel comfortable taking home to meet your Mum or your Gran. So, that in itself will make things different for each ‘generation’ that comes along. I am no musician, I cannot hold a tune, I cannot play a musical instrument and I have no sense of rhythm but I love to listen and enthuse, dance and sing along. And I know what I love...the drumming is very important to me, it has to excite me and the guitar playing must be skilfully executed and contain the all-important riff. The singer must be raunchy, soulful and gutsy – capable of gentle whisperings and wailing like a banshee. Showmanship should be there but understated. Everyone in the band should contribute, there should be no passengers.

So, returning to the series, I was delighted with the outcome which saw Led Zeppelin being represented in all of the categories and winning the best band accolade. I was less comfortable with Freddie Mercury being voted the best singer – I love him but in this context he is a tad too showy and where was Roger Chapman? Jimi Hendrix beat Jimmy Page to the lead guitar top spot – I can live with that and of course John ‘Bonzo’ Bonham was the drummer of choice literally beating off Keith Moon, another one who is brilliant but was just too unpredictable. I was confused by the choice of Bass player - Flea from the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, too showy for me; spare a thought for John Entwhistle and Paul McCartney or even Sting.

What does rock and roll mean to you? Who would be your choice?

this is going to hurt

I actually enjoyed some exercise today and bearing in mind I was planning a day of floating in a pool and eating good food that has to be even more special.
For the last four years, me and my chum Jacqui have treated ourselves to a day at Eden Hall Health Spa. We usually do a little bit of stretching and spend a lot of time wandering round the spa area and floating in the pool. We also love to indulge in the smoothies and the excellent lunches that always leave you ready for a snooze.
In the past we have been very lucky and been there on warm sunny days so have indulged in a little sunshine – falling out of hammocks being the most arduous of the tasks we set ourselves. This year was a cold drizzly day so we spent more time inside and that’s when it got a bit hectic...
Yes, today I have exercised with a hoola hoop and pranced with pom poms. And I have had a ‘right good larf’.
While most of the hoola hoop class were learning to step to the side and twizzle with their hoops I confess I spent most of my time swearing and picking my hoop off the floor. When I did manage to get it going mine seemed to want to spin round my ample bosoms rather than round my waist, as is the more accepted method. I then developed a new technique of spinning myself round whilst hanging on to my hoop, giving it quick spin as I landed and smiling benignly at the instructor to try and cover my confusion.
The pom poms, however, were another matter; we thought we were in for a touch of dance aerobics – not my forte as I have two left feet and no sense of rhythm or direction but Jacqui likes the ritual humiliation as she is quite a good dancer. In fact, we found ourselves in a cheerleader’s class. Actually, the pom poms were a saving grace as I found if I shook them vigorously and whooped loudly I could hide all my usual shortcomings with rhythm and the direction seemed easier if I followed my pom poms. I have sustained an injury though and have developed cheerleader’s finger – a nasty blister from spinning my pom poms too fiercely. I have to say I have not laughed so much whilst exercising for a long time, if ever.

The rest of the day then returned to normal I am glad to say – float, steam, wallow, eat, snooze, float, steam, wallow....
I am now living on fear that my chum will be purchasing hoola hops and pom poms for the start for the barbeque season – mind you with a glass of wine in each hand maybe I will master the art of hoola hooping!
Tomorrow promises to be painful.........

Exercise your choice....

The election has not actually been declared yet but it is only a matter of hours before the starting pistol is fired for the official campaigning to begin. I just hope folks are not sick of it already.
The clear blue water between the main Parties is almost non-existent so we will have to recall our history to help inform our decisions on polling day or try to pick our way through the rhetoric. The televised debates may help, but let’s be honest so much of that will be a beauty contest, as we listen with our eyes not our ears. Moreover, much like the first of these (Ask The Chancellors) the words will be so bland the only Party able to be robust and take risks will the one with least chance of forming a Government.
My parents generation of voters – yes there are some left, will remember the Wilson years and fear the worst, my generation will recall Thatcherism and (hopefully) shy away from the greed and selfishness of those years. And today’s young people will judge the Blair years - an era of spin and a war we followed as America’s poodle.
Whatever your political views I urge you to exercise your choice.

We adults have not all had the right to vote for that long - 1928 saw women achieve equal rights to vote following a campaign in which a number lost their lives for the cause. So, don’t stay at home go and cast a vote of some sort, exercise real choice – it is apathy that allows extremists to get in, then we will have something to moan about.