This year’s increase is a relatively modest increase to take account of inflation. But it seems that the drivers were expecting the Super License fees to go back down having made their views very clear about it last year. No such luck. The GPDA issued a press release, the first time they have done such a thing according to Brad Spurgeon.

Grandprix.com called the press release an unwise move. Certainly, the decision to release it on Friday evening — when the rest of the world is off to the pub for the next 60 hours — displays an incredible lack of media savvy, even for a club of simple racing drivers.

But I can’t agree with the overall sentiment of the article. It may be difficult to feel much sympathy for some of the most highly-paid sports stars in the world. But questions need to be asked about quite what the FIA is playing at.

The 2008 increase took the basic fee up from €1,690 to €10,000. On top of that, the extra fee for each driver increased from €447 per point to €2,000 per point. Such an increase will come as a shock no matter how rich you are.

All in all, this allowed the FIA to increase their takings through the Super License by 454%. This increase has still neither been explained nor justified by the FIA, except something vague to do with safety (as though all the safety measures only came in during 2008). Safety is a nice get-out for the FIA. As often argued by Grace on the Formula 1 Blog.com podcast, the FIA know that no-one will be able to argue against “safety”, so they use that to explain anything without having to actually justify it.

The GPDA’s statement notes that this year the World Drivers’ Champion (i.e. Lewis Hamilton) will have to pay $270,000 simply for the right to compete. (It is worth noting that Lewis Hamilton is not a member of the GPDA, so this issue is not simply about Lewis Hamilton.) Outside of F1, the highest license fee is $4,000 which a Nascar driver has to pay. That is minuscule compared with the FIA’s Super License fee.

Formula 1 drivers may be rich. But they earn their money. That is because they are among the very most supremely talented individuals in the world — which is a lot more than can be said for certain presidents of certain governing bodies. It looks suspiciously like the FIA has calculated that F1 drivers will receive little sympathy over this issue, and so have decided to exploit them to extract as much money as possible.

As has been noted by others many times, for the past few years the FIA has appeared to be on a complete money grab. It is not just the drivers that have faced a fee hike in recent years.

The FIA proposed to increase a team’s entry fee to the 2009 Formula 1 World Championship from €300,000 to €740,000. Again, safety was used as the excuse. Alianora La Canta noted.

Then there is the ONE HUNDRED MEELION DOLLARS fine handed out to McLaren in 2007. The FIA have still not revealed what on earth they have spent that money on.

Despite these handy new sources of income, the FIA has somehow contrived to increase its budget shortfall for 2009. Keith Collantine looked into this and you have to wonder just what is going on at the FIA.

The shortfall of €1.7 million in 2008 was bad enough. Somehow this has almost doubled to €3 million for 2009. The FIA’s sheer incompetence never ceases to amaze me. Maybe it is because Max Mosley thinks nothing of disposing of upwards of £1 million for his own personal gain when it would have been much easier, cost-effective and dignified to just do the honourable thing and step down.

Max Mosley may have scoffed at the notion of Fred Goodwin replacing him as FIA President. But it seems to me that the FIA could do with the help of someone who has a bit of experience in managing money. (Then again, maybe I only say that because I am Scottish and I have no understanding of how F1 or the FIA work. Though I don’t think I am unusually stupid.)

So even though the drivers’ plight may engender little sympathy among the general public as a whole, they are still right to make a stand. Someone needs to ask some serious questions about why the FIA is taking in ever more money, yet ending up with ever higher shortfalls. It’s time that Max Mosley and the FIA were held to account for this, because to me it just stinks to high heaven of something fishy.

(Almost) 100 years of Woolworths

A series of posts

1. Woolworths: The curiously British US-based company
2. Woolworths as it was known and loved, and neglected
3. Woolworths: Childhood memories and adult gripes
4. It wasn’t just the credit crunch
5. The blunder of Woolworths
6. Identity crisis
7. The beginning of the end
8. The nasty side of human nature
9. Woolworths: Final thoughts and wrapping up
10. Woolworths rises from the ashes

One widespread criticism of Woolworths was that its stores were in bad nick. There’s no question that a lot of buildings were old and hadn’t really been looked after properly. The labyrinthine stockrooms of the Leith store had to be seen to be believed! But I never saw Woolworths stores as particularly drab. What perhaps hurt the most about this frequent comment was the fact that Woolworths had recently embarked on an extensive re-fit programme that plainly hadn’t worked.

Some press reports noted that if Woolies had seen through Christmas there would have been “yet another revamp“. A few months before Woolworths closed for good, its logo changed to a self-consciously modern all-lower case affair. At least one new store’s workers in Northern Ireland had new black uniforms.

Maybe a new image was required, but latterly there was a strange focus on minutiae of the store set-up. The rules by which our in-store displays were set up were tweaked. We were always told to keep to the “planogram” (the plan which our displays were to adhere to). But beforehad we had been encouraged none the less to fill the shelves with as much stock as possible.

Now we had to adhere to the planogram exactly as it appeared on the page, right down to having the shelves on the right notches. I saw one person leave a comment on a news story caustically pointing out, maybe if area managers weren’t sent around counting shelf notches Woolies wouldn’t have got itself into such a mess.

The situation was not helped by the fact that the size of products as they appeared on the planogram often bore no relation to their size in real life. Someone in head office obviously worked out how to squeeze a big picture of a product onto a small picture of a shelf, but they forgot that you can’t so easily squeeze a physical box. Problems were exacerbated whenever a product’s packaging changed, which is more often than you might think.

The obsession with shelf heights pointed to an unhealthy interest in homogeneity. The idea was seemingly to make Woolworths stores up and down the country stock exactly the same products in exactly the same way. But what was the need for this? It takes no account for the fact that different areas have different needs. The result was an inflexible store that sold more or less the same products regardless of what the local rivals were.

Moreover, many stores were not allowed to have top shelves. We were usually not allowed to have bulk stacks. And did you ever wonder where the dump bins of reduced CDs and DVDs went? I believe that they were not allowed either.

Presumably the idea was to make stores tidier. But in my view there was no need to make Woolworths look tidier. Most shops I go into look like a complete bomb site compared to our Woolworths store, and the likes of bulk stacks and dump bins are practically de rigueur in any store that likes to offer value for money, or simply make money from its stock rather than letting it gather dust in the stockroom. At a time when sales were falling, to actively be offering less stock for sale seemed suicidal. By the looks of it, it was.

The identity crisis on the shop floor was reflected in a more general marketing malaise. Historically, Frank W. Woolworth was not a big advertiser, normally restricting the company to advertising new store openings. But in the 1970s the UK arm threw its weight behind showy advertising campaigns brimful of familiar faces.

Woolies eventually became famous for its advertising campaigns and delightfully alliterative slogans like “The Wonder of Woolworth” or, my personal favourite from my childhood, “Woolies Winter Wonderland”. A more recent, delightfully punning slogan, said that Woolies was “Well Worth It”.

At its height, Woolworths was buying entire ad breaks. Check out this whopping two minute long advert from 1981.

The advert is wonderful. It is somehow cheap and cheerful at the same time as being ridiculously extravagant. It is also something undeniably of its time. You’d never see an advert like this today. But it fits Woolworths perfectly nonetheless.

Not quite in the same league is this more recent advert starring Jackie Chan in the fictitious sitcom “The Wooly & Worth Show”. It lasts one minute, but mostly focusies on Jackie Chan rather than Woolworths. It only tells you about a handful of products, and worst of all Wooly even decides not to buy the products that the advert is supposed to be about!! WTF?!

I was never the biggest fan of Wooly and Worth. No doubt an attempt to create a lovable comedy duo à la Wallace and Gromit, Wooly and Worth ended up just being faintly annoying. I was amazed, though, when a customer recently told me that she would miss Wooly and Worth on the television! Maybe most people found them lovable after all. My indifference towards the characters didn’t stop me buying Wooly and Worth keyrings as a memento in the final weeks of the store’s life.

Can you remember the company’s final slogan? I doubt somehow that “More great news from Woolworths” will be remembered as fondly as “The Wonder of Woolworth”. The recent slogan said absolutely nothing about the store and wasn’t an ounce of wit in it. Meanwhile, the classic taps right into people’s nostalgia for the store and its role as shop for special occasions. What about another recent slogan, “Let’s have some fun”? I’m still trying to decode the meaning of it.

One thing that was crystal clear in the media coverage of the collapse of Woolworths was that almost everyone had very fond memories of the store, even if they ceased to shop there in great numbers. Yet its heritage ended up overwhelming Woolworths. Creaking under the strain of almost 100 years of history, the company began to get a serious identity crisis. Straddling a line between changing with the times and continuing to give people what they remember from the past proved to be too difficult.

Meanwhile, the stores — which Woolworths once took great pride in — began to crumble. Recent re-fits misfired, leaving Woolworths with a reputation as a dingy shop.

Wooly and Worth in happier times, posing for my discount card

Since the turn of the decade I have watched Formula 1 pretty much as a neutral. Of course, I prefer some teams and drivers more than others. In case you’re wondering, my favoured teams are BMW, Red Bull, Renault and (at a stretch) McLaren. Out of the drivers, I like Räikkönen, Heidfeld, Kubica, Alonso, Coulthard, Webber, Barrichello and (at a stretch) Kovalainen.

When I was younger my attention was grabbed by Stewart Grand Prix. Jackie Stewart’s was a famous name that I could latch onto, and the Scottish iconography appealed to me as a young Scot. I also loved the fact that they were a new team, seemingly with the odds against them, but did a fairly solid job.

Rubens Barrichello’s drive to 2nd in Monaco in 1997 was exciting to watch, and for a second I thought they were going to win when Michael Schumacher briefly ran off the road at Ste Devote. Mostly though 1997 was a year fraught with reliability problems. 1998 brought a further dip in form.

But the 1999 season as a whole was brilliant for Stewart GP as Barrichello once again shone. Who could forget Barrichello leading at the Brazilian Grand Prix? And then Johnny Herbert took a fantastic win at the Nürburgring. This team was only three years old, yet was in a position to fight for good points hauls, finish 4th in the championship and even win a race. That’s more than the team’s subsequent owners, Ford (as Jaguar) and Red Bull can say for themselves.

Besides Stewart, I developed a soft spot for Jordan. I loved the way they came back from a disastrous start to 1998. Halfway through the season they hadn’t even scored a single point. Then things started to look up during the British Grand Prix. I can remember watching a fly-on-the-wall documentary about Jordan’s 1998 season. Eddie Jordan was nervously pacing around the Jordan pit area mumbling, “I need this feckin’ point… Come on, I need this feckin’ point so much.” He got that feckin’ point.

Just a few races later Jordan Grand Prix scored a magnificent 1–2 in Belgium, with Damon Hill heading Ralf Schumacher. It was the team’s first win and it ushered in a new, though fleeting, era of competitiveness for the team.

The 1999 season was a joy to watch, not only for Stewart but for Jordan and Heinz-Harald Frentzen in particular. The German driver took an amazing six podiums including two wins, particularly memorably in France. For a long while it looked as though Frentzen was a genuine championship contender, though in the end it was not to be.

In retrospect, the work the Jordan team put into the 1999 season diverted their attention away from the future. Ian Phillips said as much in the latest Inside Line podcast — the championship run burnt the team out, and they never recovered.

In subsequent years the Jordan team drifted ever further into mediocrity and it became more and more difficult for me to like the team. 2003 was particularly painful. Giancarlo Fisichella took a flukey win in Brazil, but that disguised a truly awful season in which the team otherwise scored the miserable total of three points. If the previous year’s scoring system would have been in use, the win would have been their one and only points score.

To compound matters, in 2003 Eddie Jordan got into a needless legal fight with Vodafone which he was seemingly never going to win. From then on Jordan struggled financially. That team is now known as Force India and has had four different owners in the past five years.

However, the late 1990s were great Jordan-supporting days. And along with supporting the team comes the merchandise. I had two Jordan caps (one generic Jordan and the other Damon Hill, mimicking the Hills’ famous helmet design). I also had a Damon Hill t-shirt that commemorated the “place in history” that Hill took by taking the first win for the Jordan Grand Prix team. I also have a 1:43 diecast model of Damon Hill’s Jordan 198, the car he drove in 1998 and helped secure Jordan’s famous 1–2 in Belgium.

That is not the only F1 merchandise I bought when I was younger. I also had an Orange Arrows cap. I think I got it because I liked the colours. I am sometimes surprised to see people still wearing Orange Arrows gear from time to time, around six years after the team folded. I also had a rather colourful Ferrari t-shirt commemorating their 1999 Constructors Championship victory. What can I say? The folly of youth.

In addition to the Damon Hill 1:43 diecast, for a period of five years I decided I was going to collect 1:43 scale models of every single Formula 1 world champion. So in 1998 and 1999 I bought two Mika Häkkinen McLarens and from 2000–2002 I bought three Michael Schumacher Ferraris.

To spice things up a bit I bought models of Alberto Ascari’s 1952 Ferrari 500 F2 and Nelson Piquet’s 1981 Brabham BT-49C. But I got bored after that.

Grand Prix Legends were looking for excuses as to why diecast models don’t sell so well nowadays. I think the reality is that 75 quid for a 1:18 model that will only gather dust on a shelf is a bloody rip-off. Back in the day I think I spent around £20 per 1:43 model. I don’t think that’s something I would do today.

Aside from the normal annual purchases of video games (when available) and the season review DVD, I have not bought any Formula 1 merchandise for a while.

Until now.

I have bought this jazzy BMW Sauber t-shirt to express my support for the team. Like many, I have been wooed by the methodical, grounded approach of the team’s principal Mario Theissen and its drivers Nick Heidfeld and Robert Kubica.

The win was coming for a while, and the fact that it was a 1–2, just like Jordan’s maiden win, was the icing on the cake. The team’s recent dip in form won’t deter me. Now, for the first time for several years, I am not a neutral. I am supporting BMW Sauber.

It’s strange because I was never a supporter of the Sauber team at all. Nor was I keen on BMW when they were in partnership with Williams. But the magical combination of BMW and Sauber under the leadership of Mario Theissen has attracted me to them to the extent that I am a card-carrying, t-shirt wearing fan.

So which teams do you support, and do you buy merchandise to show that support?

Craig has expressed his disappointment. And as a Scot, I feel a bit of sadness that a nation which has produced two of the greatest grand prix drivers of all time — Jackie Stewart and Jim Clark — will almost certainly not be represented in F1 next year.

Coulthard is one of just two drivers whose début I did not see (the other being Rubens Barrichello). So not only does his departure signal the end of an era for Scottish motorsport, it also signals the fact that F1′s last remaining links to the mid-1990s will soon be gone. That will be further underlined when Barrichello retires, as I expect he will do at the end of this season as well.

Despite the sadness though, I feel that it is now the right time for David Coulthard to retire. He has rarely looked like a potential World Champion, but looking back through the records it is clear that DC has had some amazing high points to his career. He was a runner-up in the World Drivers Championship in 2001 and came third in the championship four times. He has a final tally of 13 race wins to his name. Not bad going at all!

On the other hand, for much of his career he was in race-winning cars and I always got the feeling that Coulthard failed to realise the full potential of these opportunities. In the 1995 season his Williams was a front-running car. His team mate, Damon Hill — by no means the greatest of racing drivers — won four races while Coulthard could manage only one.

His career at McLaren began well. Middling results in 1996 could be blamed on the mediocrity of his car, but the 1997 season began with a win in Australia. This was later followed up by a second in Italy.

But when McLaren became proper championship contenders in 1998, Coulthard went off the boil. The season began with a disastrous Australian Grand Prix in which he let team mate Mika Häkkinen pass on the basis of a gentleman’s agreement. Not only was it a PR disaster, but it was symbolic of the way the two drivers’ seasons would pan out.

His Finnish team mate was entering the high point of his career. Häkkinen comprehensively outclassed Coulthard, taking eight race wins to Coulthard’s one, and 100 points to Coulthard’s 56.

1999 was not much better for Coulthard. Although the McLaren was no longer as dominant, Mika Häkkinen nonetheless took an amazing 11 pole positions during the season while Coulthard — never the strongest of qualifiers — took none. Coulthard finished that season in a distant fourth place, even behind the Jordan of Heinz-Harald Frentzen.

It was not until 2001 that Coulthard was able to assert his authority over Häkkinen. But by that time the Finn was losing motivation and retired at the end of the season. Coulthard finished a highly creditable 2nd in the championship, but took just two race wins and scored barely more than half of the points that 2001 Champion Michael Schumacher took. It was a pyrrhic victory that wasn’t even a victory.

That season also contained the infamous incident when David Coulthard was unable to pass Enrique Bernoldi’s Arrows for several laps at the Monaco Grand Prix. The Scot complained, seemingly forgetting that it was his job to pass the slower Brazilian.

With Häkkinen having retired, 2002 may have been Coulthard’s chance to return to the top. But the McLaren was rather uncompetitive, firmly behind Williams in the championship. And another Finnish hot shot — Kimi Räikkönen — was now threatening to make his life a misery.

A promising start to the 2003 season — with another race win in Australia — quickly fizzled out. Kimi Räikkönen came within two points of the championship. Coulthard was way back in 7th by the end of the season.

2004 was even worse when he finished 10th. Admittedly he was in a highly uncompetitive car in what must count as one of McLaren’s worst-ever seasons. But at least Räikkönen managed to wring a spectacular win out of it in Belgium. By this stage Coulthard was looking distinctly jaded and with Juan Pablo Montoya having long since been announced for the 2005 season, it didn’t take a genius to work out which McLaren driver would get the boot.

2005, however, gave David Coulthard a new lease of life. Given the role of experienced team leader in the fledgling Red Bull team, DC impressed with some mature performances that breathed new life into his career. He was helped by Red Bull’s odd policy of switching the second race seat between Christian Klien and Vitantonio Liuzzi (who was not given as many races as originally announced), but even so he always had the upper hand over his rookie team mates. Now he was entering his period as F1′s elder statesman.

Since then his career has mostly consisted of solid performances backed up with the occasional sparkling highlight. There was an excellent podium at Monaco in 2006, with another following at Canada in 2008. In the races where experience counted — such as the treacherous conditions of Fuji in 2007 — DC excelled.

But the solid performances have dried up. No longer paired with inexperienced team-mates, DC has looked more rusty alongside the trusty Mark Webber. A disastrous start to the 2008 season which saw crash after crash after crash effectively put paid to David Coulthard’s career.

With Red Bull protégé Sebastian Vettel widely tipped to move up to the Red Bull A-team next season, the writing was on the wall for David Coulthard’s career. He had the maturity to realise that, which is why I am glad to see him throwing in the towel now rather than waiting for his performances to become more and more embarrassing.

David Coulthard is one of the most experienced drivers in the history of the sport. In fact, if he sees out the season he will be second only to Rubens Barrichello. That is a testament to his clear ability. But Coulthard’s star shone brightest in mediocre equipment. When he was driving World Championship-winning cars he failed to step up to the plate. And that is what makes him a good driver rather than a great one.

At least we can be sure we haven’t seen the last of David Coulthard. The decision to carry on at Red Bull in a development role is a smart one for Red Bull to take though. While Coulthard is quite rusty during races these days, he obviously still has a talent in terms of car set-up and development.

As for his future career, I have a feeling he could make a decent name for himself in a series like DTM. But the smart money is on him joining the BBC to take the role of post-race analyst. Coulthard is always great at interviews and has been pretty decent whenever he has attempted post-race analysis (as he has done on ITV once or twice). So I am sure he will be the right man for the job at the BBC.

So, yet another Eurovision Song Contest, and get another round of chest-beating and sour grapes from people who think that the reason the UK came last was because of a Europe-wide conspiracy against us and in favour of any of those commies to the east. Every year the protests seem to get louder, and every year they annoy me even more.

Apparently it was inevitable that Russia were always going to benefit from “political” voting. So inevitable that I didn’t see anyone predicting it. Terry Wogan himself didn’t, except until Russia started racking up the points at which point it had become an obvious conspiracy.

The thing is, this is nonsense. As Chris Applegate has pointed out, this is the first time Russia has ever won the Eurovision Song Contest. So much for the inevitability of Russia’s success.

While so many wise-guys are quick to say after the event how predictable the result of the ESC was, I’ve yet to see so many people successfully predict who will win beforehand. Derek Gatherer predicts who will win, but only after the semi-finals have taken place. This is a bit like buying a lottery ticket once you know what the first five balls are. Even then, his prediction — Ukraine — was wrong (although close).

There were three specific countries that Terry Wogan said twice during the broadcast would benefit from political voting across Europe. He said this for each of the three countries during their turn, and he said it again during the recap while the phone numbers are displayed on the screen. (Check it on BBC iPlayer.)

The three countries that, according to Terry Wogan, were inevitably going to benefit from political voting? Romania, Albania and Poland. These countries finished 20th, 17th and 24th respectively — out of 25 countries in the final. If there was a conspiracy, whoever was behind it cocked it up big time.

Of course, Terry Wogan could have seen that his theory was bogus if he simply looked at the results of the semi-final (he did do that, didn’t he?). He would have seen that Poland only got through because it was chosen by the jury and did not finish among the top seven chosen by the televote. Albania also just scraped in, having come 7th in the televote.

The fact that Poland came joint-last in the final along with the UK shows just how hollow the ‘bloc votes’ theory is. It is certainly not as simple as “countries in the east are bound to benefit”. Poland’s paltry score of 14 was made up of points from just two countries — Ireland and the UK. The last time I checked, neither of these countries were in eastern Europe.

Furthermore, the past fourteen Eurovision Song Contests have been won by fourteen different countries. This is completely unprecedented in the history of the ESC (the previous longest run being eight). Incidentally, only 7 of those countries can be credibly described as “eastern European”.

It hardly needs to be pointed out that the countries that make up the British Isles have been the most successful in the ESC’s history, Ireland and the UK having won twelve contests between them, including an incredible run of five wins in six years in the mid-1990s. The UK has also finished second 15 times, more than any other country.

Far from becoming predictable, the Eurovision Song Contest is more open than it has ever been. You can put this almost entirely down to the introduction of televoting in 1998. As Chris Applegate says, it is far easier to rig Eurovision when it is just a few jury members rather than the entire population of the EBU countries that have to be manipulated.

All of this is not to say that there is not political (or cultural, or whatever) voting going on. Incidentally, the cultural-similarity argument is quite strong, though not watertight. Even correcting for linguistic and cultural similarities, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania still engage in bloc voting.

Even so, this is a very small number of countries. As Ewan Spence points out most “blocs” consist of 5 or 6 countries.

In fact, Derek Gatherer’s Venn diagram shows that “blocs” are actually as small as two countries, or four at a push. Of course, the UK and Ireland have formed their own little bloc, which is what makes little Britishers’ protests all the more pathetically hypocritical.

As such, the fact that Russia won cannot credibly be blamed on bloc voting. In order to win the ESC, any country has to appeal beyond their bloc and gain votes from across Europe. For this reason, the idea of entering different songs for England, Scotland, etc. (or even full-on independence — any excuse to bring that up, eh? ) so that the UK could engage in its own bloc voting would fail.

The ESC Today website has analysed the votes of “western” and “eastern” European countries separately. What they show is that even in the western-only table, Russia came fifth. That’s not a win, but it is only 13 points behind the western winner, Greece. Also of note in the western-only table is the fact that Germany finished bottom and the UK also did very badly. Meanwhile, in the eastern-only table, Poland finish joint bottom with nul points.

Clearly, blaming the iron curtain as Terry Wogan does (hopefully in jest) is wide of the mark. Even locking the eastern Europeans out of the voting, eastern Europeans would still pick up plenty of points.

The thing about the “bloc votes” theory is that it’s just the sort of thing that becomes true if you just say it often enough. Ignorance has a lot to do with it.

Recently I had the misfortune to catch an episode of The Paul O’Grady Show where Terry Wogan was a guest talking about the ESC. He mentioned in passing that Azerbaijan were participating for the first time — to hoots of laughter from the audience. “Azer-ban-jan?!”, yelped O’Grady. “I’ve never even heard of Azer-ban-jan! Is it even in Europe?” I hope O’Grady was joking (though there’s every chance he wasn’t), but I just know that some of the laughing audience members were thinking exactly that.

I think for a lot of people, the Eurovision Song Contest is perhaps the only time of the year they discover a Europe beyond, say, the EU-12 or the iron curtain or Mediterranean holiday resorts. In a contest of 41 countries, and with many well-known western European countries (Italy, Austria, Switzerland, Luxembourg) declining to participate, the chances are high that the winning country will be one that many people couldn’t point to on a map. It might be as if “eastern Europe” is just one big country for these people.

If a country people can’t point to on a map (or those dirty commies in Russia) wins the ESC rather than a country a stone’s throw away from the UK, people jump to conclusions and start concocting the conspiracy theories. So if Russia wins, it’s political voting because eastern Europeans don’t want Russia to shut down the gas pipe. If Serbia wins, it’s the Balkan bloc voting that did it. If Finland wins, it’s the Scandinavian bloc vote. And so on.

Well here is a radical idea. Perhaps the countries that win the Eurovision Song Contest do so because they write songs that appeal to a wide variety of European countries and performed well on the night.

The real reason the UK tends to do so poorly in the ESC these days is that its entries are so mediocre. The UK seems to alternate between entering a song that is overtly camp and too knowing and / or stupid to be taken seriously (Scooch, Jemini, Daz Sampson) and insipid, bland, instantly forgettable dross (Javine, James Fox, Andy Abraham). It’s no accident that the last time the UK won the ESC back in 1997, it was with a song that was actually quite good (and incidentally holds the record for the largest winning margin in the ESC) and performed by a well known band and not some reality TV reject?

I mean, really, what can the UK expect if it enters someone like Andy Abraham? The man lost at The X Factor for crying out loud. What made anyone think he would win Eurovision?! As for the performance, it was nothing to write home about was it? Terry Wogan said he liked it, but I seem to remember he said the same about Jemini’s notoriously bad performance.

Blaming the UK’s loss on bloc voting when there are more sensible explanations just reflects badly on Wogan and all the others who bring up this red herring. It comes across as sour grapes.

I suppose the question is, does the UK really want to win Eurovision? The ESC is seen as trashy kitsch by most in the UK. This helps explain why most of the UK’s entrants these days are desperate reality television losers. Some countries may see the ESC as a joke, but others are clearly passionate to win the contest. Russia in particular tends to enter more famous artists. Their performer this year, Dima Bilan, is one of the country’s biggest pop stars who is on the verge of making a name for himself internationally.

It seems to me as though there are many countries who want to win the Eurovision Song Contest much more than the UK wants to. So why not let them win rather than throwing your hands up and shouting “conspiracy”?

As for Terry Wogan’s hints that he may quit Eurovision, I do hope he calls it a day. I can’t stand his commentary. The man is not a fraction as funny as he thinks he is. He mistakes rudeness for wit. He has been past it for as long as I can remember. If he quits, I hope Paddy O’Connell get the job. He has always done a fantastic job at commentating during the semi-final. He is witty but not cynical, and obviously still likes the ESC, unlike Wogan.

For what it’s worth, my favourite song was France’s — ‘Divine’ by Sébastien Tellier. I think France should just be given bonus points for entering a song containing non-French lyrics for a change!

So then I bought a sturdy old-fashioned wind-up Westclox one. Surely that wouldn’t be problematic? Well, it actually needs a rest every now and again. If you’ve not wound it up for a few weeks, it’s fine. But if you want to use it every day (for instance, I don’t know, maybe because you have to get up every day) it is completely useless. Sooner or later it will just stop, without warning. Sometimes it just stops in the middle of the night, so the alarm will never go off. If you want to get it going again you have to nudge it, but that’s no good if it stops in the middle of the night.

I’ve found myself actually having to get up early fairly often, what with exams and various other things, so I have now opted for a cheap-but-not-so-cheap alarm clock from Tesco. It’s not so loud, so I’m going to use it alongside the Westclox one just as a backup really.

It doesn’t help that I’ve always been terrible in the mornings. I’ve always liked staying up late, even when I was very young apparently. Even when I’m tired, there is usually at least one thing I want to squeeze in before I go to sleep, even if it’s just something like listening to Dr Karl.

Going to sleep never seems important at night time, but in the morning getting some more sleep always seems to be the most important thing. Nothing decent happens in the morning, so there’s no point in being around unless you have to be. So this isn’t the first time I’ve used more than one alarm at once. I’m sure at one point when I was at school I used five alarms at once. Of course it never worked, so I just gave that up.

Why am I writing all of this boring stuff about my sleep and non-sleep? Because I’ve just read this interesting article by Steve Pavlina about how to make yourself get up as soon as the alarm clock goes off (via inluminent). I’m sure this isn’t the first time I’ve read an article about sleep / getting up on that blog.

Anyway, one of the first questions he asks is:

Do you find yourself hitting the snooze button and going right back to sleep?

Yes I do! I blame Blue Peter for that. Seriously. I never used to see the point of the snooze button. I thought, “if you’ve set the alarm clock you want to get up. If you switch it off then you want more sleep — you wouldn’t want to be woken up again only five minutes later.” I think that’s true actually, but the advice on Blue Peter said that the snooze button is actually a good thing! It can help ease you into the day and give you a bit of thinking time — some preparation for the events of the day ahead. Maybe there’s something in that, but usually I properly fall back alseep when I use the snooze button so I don’t think I really get much thinking time in…

You decide to get up at a certain time in advance, but then you undo that decision when the alarm goes off. At 10pm you decide it would be a good idea to get up at 5am. But at 5am you decide it would be a better idea to get up at 8am. But let’s face it — you know the 10pm decision is the one you really want implemented… if only you could get your 5am self to go along with it.

That’s familiar! I did it yesterday actually. I was meant to get up early yesterday to go in and get some essay feedback from my tutor. At least, that was the plan the night before. But as soon as my alarm went off, the excuses racked up.

• My tutor hasn’t properly marked my essay anyway because he’s on strike, so I’ll only get vague feedback and a rough estimate of my mark
• If the dispute isn’t sorted out in time my mark for the essay won’t count anyway
• My train will be late anyway
• Even so, I can just catch a later train — I’m sure my tutor will still be around 30 minutes later

The excuse about my train being late is always the most dangerous one. The trains actually often arrive at Kirkcaldy early these days, and Sod’s Law dictates that they certainly won’t be late if I’ve slept in. And of course my tutor wasn’t still there thirty minutes later. It’s just as well I needed to brush up on my maths in the library so it wasn’t a wasted trip.

You don’t need two or three alarm clocks scattered around the room.

Correct. If you’re inclined to fall back asleep again you are going to switch all of the alarms off. It’s not actually much more difficult than switching one alarm off. Having alarms at the other side of the room isn’t much help either, for me at least. I just got up, switched it off, and crawled back into bed again. It was like a routine; autopilot. I don’t bother with all of that any more.

The trouble with routines like this is that it’s always easy to say to yourself, “Oh, I’ll have a day off, because it’s a Sunday / Friday / Wednesday / you get the picture.” It’s also difficult to have a set pattern because my day-to-day life doesn’t follow a set patter. For instance, I couldn’t get up at the same time every day because I would end up getting up at 7am on a Sunday morning. Why would anybody want to do that?

I might give Steve Pavlina’s suggestions a try. It’s more flexible because you can still set the alarm whenever you want and award yourself the odd sleep in. But it sounds like an awful lot of effort. Practice? Pah!

We went to see Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s House for an Art Lover. For those who don’t know (like me before I was dragged along), it was an entry into a sort of ‘dream house’ kind of competition in a German magazine, at the very start of the twentieth century. Mackintosh’s fantastic design was disqualified because he submitted some of his drawings too late. Doh.

In the 1980s somebody, seemingly randomly, decided he was going to build Mackintosh’s dream. And there it is, positioned in Bellahouston Park, a little piece of beauty amidst all the hustle and bustle of the city (Ibrox Stadium is just a stone’s throw away). There was one part in the audio guide when you stand on a balcony outside the music room which said something along the lines of, “Imagine sitting in the night air with the doors open listening to the music.” I couldn’t quite manage to imagine that because of the traffic noise.

I was particularly struck by the music room. Most of the rooms are dark brown or silvery — the music room is white all over, and it really hits you. It’s quite ornate and certainly very beautiful. The piano is just stunning. Mackintosh was clearly an imaginative guy! I was very impressed.

It only cost £3.50 to get in aswell. Bargain! I got some nice photos out of it aswell.

(One person was overheard leaving the House for an Art Lover saying, “…but I got the impression that not all of the furniture was original.” Doh — none of it’s original!)

Well a new blog aims to change that. Scottish Political Blogs Review has been on the go for a wee while, ever since Stuart Dickson started it. Now he’s got Garry Smith on board and today the first SPBR Weekly Roundup (yes, an idea stolen from based upon Tim Worstall’s own Britblog Roundup) has been posted.

It even mentions one of my posts!

This is one to keep an eye on. It will hopefully help us all find the best blogging about Scottish politics.

(Incidentally, Stuart and Garry, if you’re still looking for volunteers I’d be happy to help. I don’t know what I could do, but I’m offering anyway.)

Looks like it’s going to be much the same for the next five days as well.

Scotland is meant to be a cool place. Why can’t it be?