CATCOUK 100

HOORAY! Welcome to the 100th CATCOUK post. To think that just a mere 18 months ago, I could do anything I liked on Sunday evenings, and you lot all had work to do during the week…Proof! 100 Posts long!

Well, we’ve finally made it. Honest, we have hit the magical 100 this time. To celebrate this fact, I am making a little montage of all my favourite moments (okay, so bits and pieces that I could find), and putting it on YouTube. I hope you all enjoy it… (It will appear as soon as I’ve had time to finish it)

Well, it appears that the 100th post lines up nicely with a delightful cold that I now have. Writing this week’s post has been nothing but a pain in the backside. All I really want to do is sleep. Which is ironic really, because I imagine that anyone that reads this rubbish just wants to fall asleep as well. Is this how some of you get to sleep at night?

Because this week, I had put some considerable effort into a 100th post montage, I thought I could get away without writing much of anything. But to be honest, I have several things I really wanted to bring up. And although I’m ill, I don’t feel the need to bring up my last meal…

At the very beginning of the week, as usual, I was helping in Year 4 science. For the last few weeks, we have been looking at temperature. For the kids to investigate, each table is given 3 beakers of water. Obviously, kids being kids, we don’t do this until the last possible moment (stop fiddling). Each beaker is filled with water at a different temperature: cold, room temperature, and hot.

The class has a tap where we could get room temperature water from, but to get the other water meant a trip to the staff room. Whilst one of my colleagues emptied the water cooler, I set about filling a teapot from our boiler. We hurried back to class, and filled the beakers. Tap water, cold water, then finally my hot water. As I poured it out, I noticed that the hot water was… well not quite normal. As I noticed the colour of the water, I was thankful that I don’t drink hot drinks. What does this look like to you?Today children, we’re going to see if we can investigate which teacher provided each sample…

I told the caretaker, and showed him the photo. He insisted that I had fudged the photo, and that the boiler was filtered. Is it any wonder that there are loads of staff off ill? (and no I didn’t drink any, this must be a cold…)

Wednesday night, I had to work at Adult Ed. Mum had this cold, before kindly passing it on to me, so I covered her shift. To cut (you’ll get the pun in a mo) a long story short, I put a piece of paper, with someone’s details on it, through the shredder. I didn’t realise that I had done this until 9.05pm, about 25 minutes before home time.

You’re now thinking ‘What’s strange about that? Shredding personal details to prevent ID fraud. Data Protection and all that.’ Unfortunately I needed these details, so that I could pass the particulars onto the day staff. Upon the realisation of all this, I rushed to the shredder, and started trawling through it. Fortunately for me, it was on orange paper, so the pieces were rather easy to find.CSI eat your hearts out – the finished product.

After fishing the bits out, I was glad for watching late night re-runs of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (I do like the Las Vegas series). I carefully placed out the strips, and held them together with the weight of my pen on top. I still have no idea what the ladies name is, but we did manage to piece back together the phone number. You know, it’s much harder to do that it looks on TV.

On Thursday, I had once again got myself on a school trip. This was a good one as well (in my opinion). Instead of spending the day in school, we got to take the kids on a walk in the country, along an old Roman Road (Stane Street). We arrived in the car park at the start of our 7140 metre walk (that’s nearly 4 and a half miles), and were surprised that our Deputy Head had not yet arrived. He had taken the minibus several minutes before we left in the coaches, and he wasn’t here.

We tried to phone him, but we couldn’t get through on the number he’d given us. It later turned out to be the wrong number. Our Deputy Head is a great guy, and I don’t know of a single member of staff that doesn’t like him. But is one of the more… ‘senior’ members of staff, and as such, has a bit of a fear of technology. When we returned from the trip, I altered the school’s ‘school trip whiteboard’. We write up important trip details, like phone numbers, and medications… etc.A method of technology that our Deputy Head is more accustomed to…

Also on our trip, and also in the car park, I had other members of staff laughing at me. As I’m sure that anyone that knows me will know (wow, that’s a confusing phrase), I’m normally quite prepared. So naturally, I had come prepared to work in the outdoors. My fellow colleagues thought this was funny. My reply was, ‘Laugh all you like. I’m an Adventure Education student, and I have come prepared to work in the outdoors…’ Go University of Chichester…Mr. Clarke (I hate being called that) – the Adventure Education professional.

And that ends this week’s ramblings. I hope that you are all better than me, and I also hope I’m feeling better next week. Roll on Half Term!

If you are well, and would like to rub it in, why not leave a comment telling me how great it is to be healthy.

If you are also unwell, why not leave a comment telling me your symptoms, and I’ll see if you also have man-flu…

Quote of the Week: ‘Yes ma'am, we did discharge a firearm multiple times. We're okay but the raccoon is dead or at least dying and the duck may not make it, thanks for the concern, good night.’ This week’s quote comes from one of my American friends, Terry Robinson, who also writes on the net. He posts daily, but fortunately never more than a few sentences. If you would like some mild entertainment, why not check out ‘Suburban Adventure’?

Song of the Month: Royal Salute. The combined bands of TS Intrepid and TS Sturdy (sounded amazing on Sunday guys, roll on the Band Contest. 28th October, Burgess Hill Triangle Centre, come an support TS Intrepid!).

Ha Ha, fooled you.

What have I been chirping on about for the last few weeks? What should this be? Any ideas?



That's right, post 100! But according to Blogger it's only post 99. But that's convenient really. I've been banding all weekend, I feel really unwell, and have since Thursday night (that's right Michael, I'm blaming you...), and so I need the night off anyway.



Check back tommorrow for another thrilling installment, and the 100th CATCOUK post. No, really. I mean it this time.



Honest Indian.

Anyone for a 99?

Good morning/day/evening* all!

*delete as appropriate.

Well, it maybe a day late (and thanks to a late notice), we are now at post number 99! That's right, just one week until the spectacular, no expense spared, 100th CATCOUK post. I bet you are all as excited as me... (or if you have a pulse, maybe even slighty more excited) To celebrate this, the 99th post, I would like to invite you all to have a 99 Ice Cream cone with me at some point during the week. If you see an Ice Cream van, then you should feel free to go and purchase one, and imagine that I am with you in spirit (unless I am with you, in which case we won't be having one, because I am absolutly skint!).

So what's happenned this week then? Well to be honest, I havn't got a clue. I have slept since then. There have been many things that have occurred, and unfortunatly they can only be repeated in front of a more adult audience (watch out soon for Andy Clarke's First Bus to Lancing... a parody of Terry Garoghan's Last Bus to Whitehawk). But lets stumble through this together, and see if we can't end up with a finished product at the end. Here we go...

So Monday... Monday... What happenned on Monday?... Oh yes. Our first band practice of the week. Without Louise (our amazing, valiant, and modest Bandmaster) things never run quite as smoothly. And so, they didn't run very smoothly. But it wasn't completely bad. The way I look at things at the moment, Monday nights are only filling sessions between really productive (albeit stressful) weekends.

And then we merge seamlessly onto Tuesday. An interesting couple of facts about Tuesdays, is that they always lie between a Monday and a Wednesday, and that more often than not, they end in a Y (just like the phrase 'itsy, bitsy, teeney, weeney'). On Tuesday afternoons, I take a class to the local swimming pool for swimming lessons. I then (almost immediately) walk back with the first class. And this is (almost) what happenned this week.

Just as we arrive at the Aquarena (our local pool), the teacher of the class I was walking down turned around and said, 'Have you got Algernon's insulin stuff?' (names changed for child protection reasons). 'Oh dear,' I replied, or words to that effect, 'I had best take a relaxing walk back to school, and fetch it...'. And so I ram. Yes that's right boys and girls, even fat old me can get up a sweat some days. I just wish I had chosen to wear a slightly lighter jacket that day.

I ran back into the school, collected Algernon's stuff, recieved some very funny looks from the ladies on the office, and jumped into the Mark IV, for a burn back down to the pool. With all the speed could muster (something similar to a hurd of antelopes - with broken legs. Well it was in traffic) I wizzed to the pool, and abandoned Ernie in the pool's car park. Alas not a cool 1970's angle, and alas without the new flashing light, but in a parking space. All of this just in time to take the other class back.

And to add insult to injury, our Rambling club that day, with which I usually help, was lacking our leader this week. So, without 1 bold Northener at the helm, we also lacked a minibus. Wherever we went, we would have to walk from the school. So we thought we'd walk through the local parks (a bit of Urban Rambling), and down to the beach. Ironically, just next to where my car was parked. Not that I could collect my car. Oh, no. I had to walk the group back to school, and the get Ernie...

And we fall elegantly into Wednesday, just like a drunk falling in the street. After many weeks of planning and paperwork (and many weeks of annoyning poor Mrs. Varney [Heather] in the office) Chesswood Middle School's first ever climbing club had it's first session! And it went really well. I think all the kids really felt a sense of achievement, and they certainly all had a smile on their face. What a relief - perhaps all the County Council paperwork was worth it...

So we got back to school at 6.30, just in time for me to race home, shovel some food down my neck, and change my shirt, so that I could meet Siobhan at the pub at 8. That's right, I pulled out all the stops. I even put on a 4 year old T-Shirt to go out! We really wanted to play pool, and the first pub we went to was slightly busy. It was football night (and Siobhan and I are equally as excited about football), and unfortunatly the pool tables and the big TV screen share a room. So on to the next pub, which was completely different.

It was like a graveyard in there. There could only have been three other people in there, and two of them were bar staff. A nice quiet pub, no one else after the pool tables, but better yet, Wednesday nights in the Golden Lion was FREE POOL NIGHT! Result. Well my friend Siobhan and I pooled it out hard to a three all draw (we are both pretty special at pool), and then sat and drank for a while. Then I drove her home, and we sat and chatted in the car for an hour and a half (making a small hole in the O-Zone layer above her house, as I didn't switch the engine off for half an hour). Why we didn't go inside is anyone's guess, but I suppose my car is pretty bloody comfortable. And when the street lights switched off, we knew it was probably time to go home. So after a quick 20 minutes star gazing, I eventually stumbled into bed at about 2am...

And then, like a rabbit being hit by a juggernaut at 50mph, it was 5 to 8 Thursday Morning. That gave me just enought time (thanks to Mum waking me up, when I forgot to set the alarm) to run throught the shower, jump into some clothes, and scream to school in my Escort. Obviously, being quite a tired bunny, I was quite looking forward to going home at 3.15. But this is CATCOUK, it's obvioulsy not that easy. I had to take the Girls' Football club to fill in for someone.

Okay lads, I can hear you all laughing. Girls. Playing Football? Well firstly, I play football like a girl anyway, so I'm an obvious choice. Secondly, I thought, 'These are girls interested in football. They'll be better than me'. Wrong. All of those stereotypes that leaped into your heads when I mentioned Girls and Football were spot on. What a nightmare...

And then I finally landed on Friday. Once again, the deputy head (Dennis) asked me to cover the class from hell's games lesson. Actually, they were much better this week. All credit to them. But even so, they are a stressful class to get organised. Oh boy was I looking forward to a relaxing weekend...

Again, this is CATCOUK, not a Disney movie. Loads of stuff happenned, involving me being up to 4am.... and looking after friends. Incidently I bought my first bunch of flowers. The lady that served me (at 10.50pm on my home from a Lions fundraiser) gave me a very funny look. It's no wonder men don't buy flowers often. It was the kind of look as if to say 'Oh aye. He's in trouble, and clearly trying to 'make-up' wink wink, nudge, nidge'. Actually, I was being nice to a friend.

Anyways, Sunday was band again, and all the officers were arguing with me. Being as stubborn as my mother, I held strong, and did what I said I was going to do. So is it any wonder that by then end of the day, I was ready to blow a friggin' fuse? Fortunatly all the kids were gone, and it was only Mum that got it in the neck. Yes, it was a stressful weekend.

Made all better when I woke up this morning (Monday - I'll give you a little bonus for waiting an extra day) and Dad (one of the officers that was arguing - possibly the most argumentative, well he is family) said to me 'Well Done for standing by your guns yesterday, even with me arguing with you constantly. It was all worth it.' Hooray! The old man actually admitted he was wrong, and I had got it right!!!! Ahh, it's going to be a good week (but there's only one way to find out buoys and gulls)...

And on that note, see you all next week.

Quote of the Week: 'It's 1120pm on a Monday evening. Do you really think that I can be bothered to finish off as normal, or remember my real quote of the week, or come up with this month's tune of the month, or add a few photos?' said Andy, rather tired, and a little bit grouchy. Sorry MSN Monday people...

Transmission Error

I'm not going to beat around the bush. I've had a long, tiring, stressful weekend, and I just want to settle down and watch the new series of Top Gear. That's right boys and girls, if you didn't see it, you missed Top Gear last night. I hope for your sakes that it's repeated...

Anyways, check back Tuesday, to see if I was up late Monday night. All I will say is this: sometimes, some things are more difficult to achieve than starting my car on a cold day. And that was kind of theme of everything I did this weekend. God bless my marching band...

I appear to be going through a phase of verbal diarrohea... (if that's how you spell it)

As you read this, please appreciate that you very nearly didn't get this on time! Right now, The Shawshank Redemption is showing on Film4 - which rates as one of my favourite movies of all time. So whilst I attempt to watch this great film, recieving an almost unprecidented 5 Escorts out of 5, I will type this week's dose of complete dribble.


I would like to start this week's post, with a quick lookover Monday Night's Band practice. I think I might have mentioned before that TS Intrepid's Band has grown some what in the last year. We now have 18 members (double that of last year), and a metric sh*t ton of wind/ brass players. When we hit one particular fanfare, it sounded like the entire cast of Ghandi was behind me (I'm at the front of the band in percussion - I play a side drum), playing trumpets, and playing them well. The grin on my face, went from beyond my left ear, to beyond my right ear. I honestly couldn't believe that our little band, which I had (with others) built this band up from scratch. Un-blooming-believable. And to continue the broken word theme, fan-blooming-tastic.


I started this week at Chesswood, with the knowledge, of having a pretty good week ahead. Monday and Tuesday weren't brilliant, but on Wednesday, I had my first trip of the week. An exciting excursion to Home Farm (near Goodwood), organised by the Countryside Alliance, to tell us all about farming. There were some quite interesting parts to the day, including my lunch, walking between sessions, and actually, the bee keepinf was facinating. Did you know, that on an average day in the summer, in one bee hive (honey collecting little house thing), there can be up to 50 000 bees?!?!? Other, less interesting sessions, included how to care for cows and sheep, and the exciting world of farm machinery.


Brief pause for Morgan Freeman's first scene. You know, where he's trying to get bail. He doesn't get it.
Here's me at the farm, in front of a load of kids, and a COW!

Giant steps are what you take, walking on the moon - no, I'm not pretending to be Niel Armstrong, I'm wearing a Bee Keeper's headgear.


Anyways, the day wasn't all dull. I was lucky enough to have a bus driver that I recognised to get us there. Well, I'm not sure that lucky would be my choice of word. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice enough chap, just a little... talkative. He started to reverse the bus, so that he could make some space in front to pull out. And as we reversed, we suddenly felt a bump. At the time, I thouht it was just the curb or something, but as we drove off, and I had a chance to look in the mirrors, I saw the school's minibus behind us. Oh dear.


That's right, the coach had shunted the school minibus. And we didn't even stop. As we got to the first set of traffic lights, the driver jumped out, and in true Chinese Fire Drill fashion, ran to the back of the bus, checked the bus, and the minibus, had a quick chin-wag with the minibus driver, and jumped back in the driving seat, just in time to pull away!


No damage done.


And blow me down. Can you work out which bus driver we had for my trip on Friday, to Butser Ancient Farm? That's right. You've guessed it. For the third trip this year!


Now Butser was a much more fun trip. We had a more pleasant bunch of kids, and lots of hands on stuff for the kids to do. A bit of digging in the sand, finding odd itmes (or archaeology as they called it), making clunch - a saxon concrete, making saxon jewellery, and the old favourite - a trip to the gift shop. I often think that the kids would much rather just go around gift shops for their schools trips, rather than do the educational stuff.


Ooh, they're just smuggling in a rock hammer. Hang on. I find that a facinating system.


So, Butser was great fun. It's just a shame that the weather wasn't having such a great day as us. By half one, it was absolutly persisting down with liquid sunshine. It was also a shame that the farm didn't have anywhere indoors that they could teach from. By putting two and two together, you'll get 60 wet children, and 9 wetter adults. Lovely.


But what, I hear you ask, did you do on Thursday? Well my faithful, read on, and I shall tell you. The school were kind enough to pay for, and put me on a course in Off-site, and Educational Visits Leadership. It was a brilliant course. I learnt some new stuff, went over some older stuff, and had a great day.


It's an ad break. Let's really push on whilst the films not on.


At one point in the course, we had to take a walk around the local neighbourhood. The aim was to learn how to cross the road safely, and look at different people's and establishment's methods. But please picture this. 10 adults, two of whom wearing yellow jackets (because I can't spell fluorescent), and marshalling people across the road. We must have looked especially special. I like to think that passers by, would think we were a group like National Road Crossing Enthusiasts Annonymous. Now there's a title for a Monty Python Sketch if ever there was one...


As it turns out, Thursday was a busy day. After the course, I took my first ever evening class. Well, I've attended evening classes before, but never as a tutor. That's right, I'm now a a fully bonefide IT tutor.


Ad breaks over, and they're doing the cell search. I always find it an interesing confrontation between Duphrane, and the Warden. 'But I suppose exceptions can be made'... oh how the Warden will regret that comment.


My first class went amazingly well. I had a class of 6 people, most in their forties/ fifties, and two older people. I have a very, unconvenitional teaching style. At one point, I pointed to the elderly lady in the class, and stated that she obviously didn't need to be in class. She was very clearly a computer hacker, and I could tell from the look in her eyes. And so it went on...


Sorry, Brooks is doing his letter scene. I find this a facinating part of the movie, if not a little sad. Bless the old guy. I wonder what crime he committed to be in prison, he seemed like such a nice guy?


After my evening class, it was time to meet up with Michael and Dominic, for one of our three times a year meet ups. On the cards this year was a trip to a pub on Shoreham Beach, followed by a trip to Subway. Now, I like my subroll to have LOTS of BBQ sauce. And I mean LOTS.


Red (Morgan Freeman) has got his second appeal board. Will he get bail this time?


No.


Anyway, the man didn't muck around. He really did give me lots. Unfortunatly it wasn't the best BBQ sauce in the world. In fact, it must have had something spicey and hot (like Chilie) in it. Oh my dear lord, how it burned. It felt like I was chewing on solid fire. At one point Michael was desperate for the loo, so I suggested weeing in my mouth would help the both of us. It hurt that much, and I was that desperate.
Another day, another pedestrian: The usual view from my beautiful Mark IV 'Pedestrian Killer' Ernie the Escort.

The evening held other joys as well. A bit of pub-science on Beach Green Car Park: can a car keyless entry fob's radio waves travel over mobile phone (we don't think so)? And then there were the joys of 24 hour Tesco. As we sat in the car park, drinking lemonade (no we really were - how cool are we?), I looked at one of them trolley bays, and thought outloud: 'I wonder if I can park Ernie in one of those?' Michael and Dom said no way, and that I'd never do it. Well, that's like a red rag to a bull.
Tesco must be the best supermarket in the world. No this isn't another 'I hate Sainsburys' joke (although I do) - look. Tesco's now offer covered parking for 1986 Mark IV Escorts!


This week, Mum gave me a letter, and said 'This came for you in the post... several weeks ago.' Cheers Mum. I open it up, and find it's my car tax renewel. I knew it was due, and wondered where the letter had gone. So, like every other mug, there I was on Saturday at 10 to 12, waiting to pay my road tax. Marvellous.


And because I like a sense of completion, we go full circle, and finish this week's extremely long post, with another band story. I was particularly miffed on Friday night, as I was going to have to run a band practice on Sunday (10 - 4) practically on my own. I found this especially interesting, as I resigned my position in the band three weeks ago.


Sorry, Duphrane is just explaining how he invented Radall Stevens. My American friend Terry Robinson has a similar friend in Joe Baloke (who I believe had a library card for a while - not quite as impressive as birth certificate, drivers license, and social security number is it Terry?).


But amazingly, even with loads of adults missing, it went off without a hitch. It was a great day, and I am feeling great. It would appear that the band can play music, and the band can also do a display. Now, if we can just play and march together, we might be in with a chance of doing quite well... Join us at the Burgess Hill Triangle Centre on Sunday 28th October, and find out how we do. If you would like to find out more about the NTC's National Band, Colour and Fanfare competition, why not look at www.ntc.org.uk/bands - the NTC's National Band Committee website. I think that's suitable advertised that.


Oooh I like this bit. The Warden gets his own back, for what Duphrane will get away with. Maybe he's not such a fool. He was being obtuse.


Don't forget, just two weeks until our 100th post together. Get your suggestions in for the 100th post special now! See y'all next week.


If you are worried that my verbal diarrohea might be getting serious, why not leave a message telling me to shut my pie hole, and give us all a break.


If you are worried that my verbal diarrohea might be getting serious, why not leave a message, telling me to avoid all medical help.


Quote of the Week: 'It's like, if you walk a mile every day, after 10 days, you've walked 10 miles!' said our Bandmaster Louise, trying to explain how every little bit of practice soon adds up. Yeah, thanks for the basic maths lession Lou...

Chief Medical Officers Warning: This is a long post, and may harm you, and those around you.

Good evening brothers and sisters, praise be to the bald!

Okay, so a bit on an unorthodox opening, but I shall tell you why. Apologies to any friends that spoke to me over the weekend on MSN, I've already raved about this to you, but I feel the need to share my joy. I found on the internet, an amazing collection of a radio show called 'Terry Garoghan's Last Bus to White Hawk'. This radio show, winner of a Sony Radio Award GOLD, was funnier than Ricky Gervais, and was only on my local radio station, Southern FM. It was a late night show, and the humour could be... quite close to the nuckle. But listening back over the clips, it really was as funny as I remember. Bring back 'The Last Bus to Whitehawk'!

Anyways, Terry nearly always opened his show with the comment above.

So life at Chesswood this week was great (for the most part). I am beginning to realise that this may have been an unwise choice of placement for me. In kind of the same way that it would be unwise for a starving man to start working as a waiter in a restaurant. I love teaching, and being a TA, working with only a few kids, isn't quite as fulfilling. But work did pick up this week.

I started running some of my after school clubs this week. We kicked it all off with Year 4 and 5 computer club on Monday, which was full of enthusiastic kids, that just wanted to play games. More fool them (please imagine my evil laughter). The school network provider blocks any and all games, that aren't educational...

Tuesday evening was Rambling club with Year 7. Although I don't lead this club, it's run by my friend Jez, who I've been working with for (shudder the thought) 5 YEARS! Can you believe it? I've been volunteering at the schools for 5 years. Thats a quarter of my life...

Anyways, we loaded up the minibus, and went up Cissbury Ring, and took the kids up on the hill with a couple of Frisbees (sorry, Flying Discs - Frisbee is a brand name). One of the Frisb- flying discs was promptly lost in a bush, but I was more interested in showing kids are amazing country. It was a beautiful afternoon, you could see all the way to the Isle of Wight (a long way away for our international readers). 'Look over there kids. You can see the Isle of Wight.' To this comment, Jez (who majored in Geography) laughed at me. 'Of course it's not the Isle of Wight. That's miles away.'

Anyways, long story short, after an argument, Jez ended up saying, 'If that's the Isle of Wight, I'll... teach naked tommorrow. I mean look, there's Bognor, and I know for a fact, you can't see the Isle of Wight from Bognor beach.' To this, me and a fellow teacher, Holly, looked at each other. And then muttered something to do with the curvature of the Earth, and started to take interest as to the practicalities of Jez's bet...

Now, he was wearing clothes on Wednesday, but he assures me that he walked to school starkers...

On Wednesdays, I am going to start running a climbing club for the older kids at the school. Now when I thought this up, I had just got my climbing instructor's ticket, and thought, easy. I'm an instructor, me and Jez load up the bus with kids, and take them climbing at our local wall. Job done.

Wrong.

I had of course forgotten that this was West Sussex County Council that I was now working for, and not the NTC. And of course, synonymous with the word council, is the word - bureaucracy. Paperwork, paperwork, and yet more paperwork. God bless the council. Add to this, that apparently my climbing qualification was completely and utterly useless. That's right kids. It was good for sh*t. Marvellous.

Anyways, three trees later, and some stress, and lots of help from the climbing centre, we have a viable club. We'll be starting in a couple of weeks, and after the first day of sending letters out, we had 23 interested people.

On Friday, I was actually let loose with a class. A teacher had phoned in ill, and there were no spare staff members to cover the class for the whole day, so people were being pulled from all over to cover different sessions. And at the end of the day, the class had Games. The deputy head asked me to do it. Well I jumped at the chance. I love teaching, I honestly do. Shame the class was a complete and utter bunch of pain in the arses. Never mind, I do enjoy a challenge...

After school, was my final club of the week: Ultimate (Frisbee) club. Don't bother asking what it is if you don't know. Your on the friggin internet, use Google! Anyways, I set it up as a club that kids could do, in the hopes that the usual sporty suspects wouldn't sign up, and we'd have an ecclectic bunch of kids. Worked a treat. And we even started to learn stuff that had nothing to do with Ultimate. 'How could you improve you game guys?' Several suggestions later: 'That's right, there are too many people shouting. If you improve your communication, and try lowering the volume, your team will improve. And do you know what? They could even work in class...'

Oh my goodness! What an amazing session. The kids loved it, and we even learnt some soft skills. It's almost as if that Adventure Education degree is paying off...

Almost finally, today (Sunday) I was out with the NTC at our second boating centre, NBAC Attentive (National Boating and Activity Centre). Sorry Attentive, to call you our second centre, but Lion definatly does have the edge. Since about May, I have been staff at the centre. A pretty poor member of staff if I'm honest. Today was only the second session I've made. I just don't have the time to commit like I want to. Really, I could do with having two of me.

Anyways, it was fun day at Attentive today, and I am a Safety Boat operator. So I took out a powerboat. Hap-hazardly, I jumped in a boat, without really selecting one. And at the end of the first session, we had a race. It would appear that I had picked the fastest boat. Admittedly, I knew the type of boat was better than the other two, but I hadn't realised how great this boat flew. I had immense fun in it, and I think the kids did too (except for the one who became sea sick - excellent).

At the start of the first session, I thought I'd do my bit as an educator. You know the typical questions: 'Who's done this before?', 'What does this and that do?... etc. Well, I was just in the midst of this, when a bucket of water was tipped over me, from a passing boat. Oh yeah, this was fun day, and that meant getting wet.

Now, since the purchase of my dry suit, I never bother taking a change of clothes these days, and it was such a lovely day, I didn't bother doing up my dry suit. Yes I think we can all see where this is going. That's right, I drove home in some very wet clothes. Bugger.

Later in the day, we swapped boats. Of the type of boat I was driving, there were two. So we swapped. The other boat, had a far far smaller engine. And I didn't really appreciate this, until I tried to put the hammer down. With 4 kids in, the boat just would not move. Well it would, but it just didn't take off. Me and the kids were in fits of laughter, but only over how crap this boat was in comparison to the other Jaffa. Just my luck.

Things did improve slightly. I was given the huge Dunlop rib, although I will forever call it the banana boat. I have very little experience with inflatables. Even though this boat had a huge engine on it, it didn't really shift. And as you tried to take off, it started to bend in half! Just like a big banana. Scary as for the first couple of times, until I was told that this was how it worked. Bizarre.

And finally, you may remember that last week, I was also out boating. I have taken to recording videos on our trips, to try and make advertisement for the youth group a little easier. So if you want to see this video, click here. It is beautiful, and (in my humble opinion) deserves a BAFTA. But if you havn't got 5 minutes to spare, you definitely want to check this video out.

One of my NTC colleagues, and superior officers is a bit of a nutter. Mr. Ginnaw is very funny, but I have started to capture his exploits on film. Well digital media card actually. So, from the man that brought you Giant Archery, he is a brand new sport, that I think will make it into the 2012 Olympic Games. And of course, after seeing the photage, I just had to have a go at commentating.

Click Here to see the World Mattress and Stairs Tobogganing League Finals, 2007!

Well that's it for another week. But before I go, I need to tell you that we are just 3 weeks away from the 100th post of CATCOUK. Leave a message if you have a suggestion of what to do.

Also, please take some time on Tuesday 25th September, as it is Internation (Andy bought an) Escort Day. That's right, it will be two whole years since I bought my beloved car! So celebrate with me, here on the internationally recognised CATCOUK - the BlogSpot home of Andy Clarke.

If you thought this post was eye-gougingly long, and have in fact lost an eye because of it, please send an invoice to me, by leaving a message.

If you havn't lost the will to live, you must be one of the 16 readers, of Internationally recognise, still not award winning, CATCOUK. Why not leave a message to celebrate the fact that you are still awake.

Quote of the Week: 'Has anyone seen Harry and the Dinosaur?' I think this needs no explanation.

Oh alright, Heather, a lovely lady in the office at Chesswood, had lost one of the book club's books. Wasn't that random, but does sound odd when you have no idea what she's on about.

Trips, trips, and more trips

This was the week that was.

And a busy week as well. As I'm sure you all know by now, I am working at a middle school (ages 8-12) in Worthing. Working in four classes, across three year groups, I get about alot (as it were). Now, I have an incessant need to help people, so I am the first to offer assistanceif I can. And this vile trait of mine ended up with this.

On Tuesday I went with Year 5 to Pulborough Brooks nature reserve, as part of their 'mini-beasts' topic. It was a beautiful day, not even spoiled by the multi-coloured yawn of one pupil on the coach. But, regrettably, I hadn't really thought this one through. The group are studying 'mini-beasts' (insects to you and me), so what is the rest-assured classic main stay of insect field trips?

Yay, bloody fantastic nature! Me at Pulborough Brooks.

That's right. Pond dipping. Ever since I was a child, I have hated pond dipping, with an absolute passion. So yet again, another hour of my life was wasted away, splashing breaking nets around in murky, miserable water. I don't know if any of you remember back to school, and pond dipping sessions (I would be very suprised, and annoyed if any of you managed to escape this particular form of school torture), but it seemed that whenever I went pond dipping, all I ever caught was one thing.

Bleedin' Water Boatmen.

The first time you catch one, you use your magnifying glass, not that it helps you see the creature any better, but it does make you feel more scientific. There's the oval shaped body, with two huge arms likes oars. Having made this simple observation, you then go through that identification chart you never thought you'd use. And yep, sure enough, you have a Water Boatman. Yippee. Sketch it in your scetch book, put it back, and try again.

Your next catch, once again aided by the magnifyer, is identidied as a Water Boatman. And so the merry cycle continues, but by the 59th friggin' Water Boatman, you kind of get bored of dipping for the buggers. Why couldn't I catch something exciting from the chart? I don't know, something like a duck.

Anyways, this session wasn't much different. I spent the hour waving goodbye to another hour of my life that I would never see again. Another hour vanquished by the torturor known as pond dipping...

On Wednesday, I helped Year 7 on their trip to Bignor Roman Villa. This is my third visit to the villa, and each time, I never fail to be disappointed. The villa was found in 1811, museum buildings look like they will put up in 1511. The place is in a real state, and has always looked pretty messy. The tour is a little on the lame side, and as dull as dish water. Especially on the third trip around.

For the trip, I was given a little fact sheet, so that I knew some vital statistics. I forgot about that sheet when I went out in the evening to go and meet up with Michael. How cool am I? That's right, I was able to tell Michael everything he ever wanted to know about the villa, and even alot of stuff he didn't want to know. Forunatly, I swept the sheet under the carpet, and dumped it in the bin, to save Michael the pain, and save what little remains of my street cred.

To top of my rather wonderful week (at long last, I'm busy again), me, Ernie (TS Intrepid's official mini-minibus), and a bunch of kids bombed down to Portsmouth for a weekend of sailing, and sunburn. Saturday was an amazing day. A nice gentle breeze, glorious sunshine, and nice warm water. The kids looked as though they had a cracking day, and I had a great day on the safety boat. Once again, I was paired up with a lovely lady from the MVS (some sort of powerboat voluteer service). Me and Margaret make a crack team in the boat, and we both enjoy a good bomb about in the power boat (even if we did use just a little bit too much fuel).

Amazingly, we had no injuries (not even boo boos) other than someone took a minor bang to the head. Nothing serious. My car did sustain an injury however. For security reasons, I can't tell you what's wring with Ernie, but hopefully next week, I'll be able to tell you all about it. Well that gives us all something to look forward to. I think a great weekend was had all round, although I am majorly knackered.

By that last comment, I mean take a hint. I'm tired, and I need to go to bed. Stop reading my blog, and let me be. Oh, and by the way, you may remember last week, I complained that only 15 people read, but at least one person left a comment on facebook saying that they are a regular reader. So good day to you Jamie. I hope that you are well.

If you think that pond dipping is awesome, and you hate my guts, why not leave a comment telling me so.

If you think that pond dipping is crap, leave a comment telling me that you only ever caught Water Boatmen as well.

Quote of the Week: "Make that 16, iv got into the habbit of reading it every week! see life is worthwhile theres 16 of us! Hope ur well" said Jamie on Facebook. Well I thought his comment deserved recognition.

Back to my life (well sort of)

This week, finally, I returned to a 'normal' Andy Clarke week. Doing stuff during the day, rather than just lounging around watching the idiot box. Whilst I will freely admit to enjoying re-runs of Frasier on Paramount Comedy, it is nice to have something to do. When I was in America, I was busy from 8am, until 10pm (at least). But since my return, this source of business hasn't existed. I have been bored out of my blisteringly numb mind.

On Tuesday, I started my new job (or placement) at Chesswood Middle School. And I have to say, that this must have been the easiest first day at a job that I have ever had. I was a little nervous, I'll admit. But who else starts a new job, where they already know most of the staff, most of the protocols, and where most things are? Come November, I'll have volunteered/ worked at the school for 5 years! How time flies when you're having fun...

The majority of the fun at Chesswood this week, came from teachers introducing me to their classes. 'Well children, this morning we are going to be joined by Mr.- (long pause for thought) I'm sorry, I only know you as Andy'. Up until now, I have been able to get away with being called Andy. But with my new job, this has had to change. Even at NTC, the cadets are being told not to call me Andy any more. And I hate being called Mr. Clarke. One of the Teaching Assts. said 'What is your surname anyway... Oh, I can see why you don't like that. It's not very exciting...'. Thanks for that. So I have a dull surname. It matched my dull personality...

Now of course, as I'm sure you can expect, working with kids all day everyday brings up some interesting stories. And hopefully these will emmerge soon. But this week's stories will have to come from elsewhere. So lets fall back on that old rock of CATCOUK stories - the NTC (Nautical Training Corps for newish readers).

Monday evening was my first practice with the Marching Band of TS Intrepid since I left for the states in June. And I returned to find that the percussion section has turned into a hipp-a-croc-a-pig (some really ugly cross between a hippo, a crocodile, and a pig). Without going into the specifics, and making myself sound ultra-dull (as if, I hear you mutter sarcastically), the percussion section was now made up of a variety of different percussive instruments, but only one of each. Not bad when you consider there are 5 (about a third of our band) cadets in the percussion section - each playing a different instrument.

So, in an attempt to give us a percussion sections at least resesmbling something normal, I moved from bass drum, back to my role as an award winning side drummer. Unfortunatly, some git face has taken away my lovely padded leg rest. So now I have to play the drum at a jaunty angle (and not a cool '70s car parking jaunty angle). This caused a spar on the drum to dig into my leg, which gave me a sore bruise for the whole of the week. What I do in the name of marching music.

Some of you may remember that just before going to America, I reluctantly handed in my notice at the most wonderful place in the world - Sainsbury's supermarket. Yeah right. I have been raving about it, ever since I left. Never again do I have to wear their God-awful 1980's polyester uniforms, or make pleasant conversation with the people weird enough to go to Sainsbury's at 9.30 at night. And I was raving to my American friends that I would now have my evenings free to do whatever I liked. It appears that I may have been a little short sighted.

This week has been rather dull. With Michael working all the hours that he upstairs sends, Siobhan away, Dominic at Southampton Uni, and the Adventure Ed mob at placements all over the world, I don't appear to have many friends to meet up with in the evenings. In fact, I have spent my evenings, contemplating suicide with my laptop mouse. Still, beats contemplating suicide by bar code reader at Sainsbury's...

So to all of my friends out there: I NEED TO GET OUT!!!!! Thank you.

Back to that old mainstay - the NTC. Friday night was our first 'deck night' (regular gathering) of the season. To celebrate the fact that I had been in America for a while, I asked permission, and was granted, to wear my Class 'A' Boy Scout of America uniform. The uniform was met with a variety of different views. There are many new cadets at Intrepid that have never met me before, so none of them knew what was going on. Some of my older cadets, and the officers struggled to keep a straight face, especially when it came to salutes. But never mind, I'm sure the mums all appreciated seeing my nobbley knees... yuck!

Lastly, with my bank account reading - please give us some money - I need all the money I can get. After selling my body prooved unsuccesful, I accepted the job with West Sussex Adult and Community Learning (previously West Sussex Adult Education, previously West Sussex Adult Education Service, previoulsy Boundstone Adult Education Centre... you get the picture). What was my job? To give them yet another name to confuse the heck out of adult students? No. Mum (a 'Team Leader' for Lancing and Worthing) wanted me to help drop some leaflets and brochures off.

Now, Mum described this as not much more than being a glorified delivery driver. At this point, I expect my best friends Michael and Dominic are chuckling to themselves. Before we left High School, we all tried to figure out what each other would end up doing as a job. They believed that I would end up being a lorry driver. And everytime I do something that is even remotely related to getting me there, they both make a point of rubbing it in my face. So yes, I am now a delivery driver...

Anyways, the deliveries/ drop-offs were only part of the job. I have always despised the people that stand in the street giving out leaflets, or asking you to participate in surveys. To be honest, who doesn't. I will accept Big Issue sellers, as thats a worthy cause (not that I have ever bought a Big Issue). So what did I find myself doing at 1145 am, on Saturday morning? Thats right kids - cretinously giving out leaflets in Lancing town cen'er (pronounced with out the T in Lancng). Still, beats working at Sainsbury's (did I mention that already?).

It was interesting to see the kind of diversionary tactics that various people would use. There's the sudden facination with something (anything) in that shop window over there. That old faithful - the old fake phone call. For the parents amongst you, the quick check to make sure the baby is still in the pram/ push chair, and hasn't actually been abducted by aliens. Then of course, as a last resort, you can always resort to the emergency turn - now in three choices: as far away from you on the same side of the road; cross the road; or make a U-Turn, and look like you've forgotten something (I don't know, maybe you left the kids in the toaster or something). My personal weapon of choice, has always been avoid making eye-contact. And that really is the secret. If you avoid eye contact, you can get away with it - DON'T LOOK INTO THEIR EYES...

And now my caffeine induced post for this week is at a close. But before I go, I wonder if you know how many people read CATCOUK, here at blogspot.com? A few weeks ago, Siobhan sent me a link to Google Analytics, which collects all sorts of statistics on your website for you. I can tell how long you visited for, what browser you used, what speed internet you have, and where (to the nearest town) in the world you come from. It's all very cool. In one week (27th Aug - 2nd Sep), 57 people visited catcouk.blogspot.com, from 10 different countries, using 5 different internet browsers. Now, I don't think everyone of those visitors could have read the blog (unless you think it can be read in less than 60 seconds. It would appear that 14 people stayed long enough to read the blog. This doens't take into account people that read via live RSS feed (I suppose some of you might), or people that read my feed on Facebook (and people do - they leave comments).

So there you go. I have around 15 readers. Wonderful. I wasted an hour of my life every week, just to keep 14 people happy. I don't know why I bother, I honestly don't...

If you think that I lead a sad and uninteresting life, why not leave a comment, starting you message with 'Oi! Sad sack!'.

If you think that spending an hour a week to chronicle my life for 15 or so individuals is a wise and noble cause, why not leave a comment, starting your messagea with 'It could be worse - you could be working at Sainsbury's'.

Quote of the Week: 'Yeah, it's spelt right. See, F-I-N-K. Fink.' said one 11 year old pupil, when telling me how to spell the word 'think'.

Dawn of the Red (Paint)

That's right boys and girls, this week sees the return of the infamous CATCOUK bad puns!

Immediatly after completing last week's post, I rushed down stairs, jumped into my beautiful Mark IV Escort, and raced to Lancing with my mother for... a family BBQ! What more fun could you want? All of the usual family BBQ shenanegans (if that's spelt right) - family members making snide remarks at each other, lots of charcoaled burgers, and of course, all of those great photos from America... yawn.

But fortunatly, I had an excuse to leave early from this particular family event. I had to take Ernie on his first long drive, to London, with my friend Siobhan, and her sister and one of her friends. We were going to their Grandparents place to stay over night, in preparation for the next morning. Because at 8am the next day (bank holiday Monday), we were going to need to be in Leicester Square, taking part in a world record breaking attempt.

Now I know what you're thinking. A man of such calibre as myself will be taking part in some almighty record breaking attempt that will benefit the good of all mankind. What will it be? Breaking a new land speed record in Ernie; Setting new record for the lowest ever base jump; developing a cure for some horrible disease, in record breaking time? No. In fact, we were helping in an attempt to set a new record for the largest number of walking zombies gathered together in one place.

Yep, I know. It was an interesting day...

First, we all got up at 6am, had a quick breakfast, and then on with the make-up and costumes. I went for a rather basic ensemble, inpsired by Shaun of the Dead. An old shirt, and some older trousers that looked reasonably neat. I suppose I could have been an office worker. With the basic clothes sorted, it was time for some make-up. Now, all jokes aside, I don't know one flippin' thing about make-up.

So as I'm sure you can imagine, my white face paint was rather lacking. In some places, my face was as white as one of those mimes. In other places, I wasn't white at all! Never the less, Maddi, Siobhan's sister, applied some slightly better make-up (and by slightly, I mean amazing), and the look was a complete. I think my face ended up looking like a lame circus clown. Well, a circus clown that had been beaten up. My big red lips didn't help either (signs that I was not 100% well, and may come down with a cold). To finish off, I wiped a load of read paint (see the pun in the title now) on my shirt, and it all looked like blood. Lovely.

Send in the clowns - I think they already did, into a bar brawl...

So anyways, being the case that women were in charge, we were naturally half an hour late arriving. Not that it mattered, the count didn't start until just after 9. To count us all, we had to get a raffle ticket. Well, first person we saw was this woman. So, all of us 'Zombies' started lurching towards her. As I write this, I am chuckling to myself. To understand why, please imagine yourself as this young lady. One of your friends probably came up to you at the pub the other night, and said something like 'we're attempting to break a world record tommorrow, would you lend us a hand, and give out some raffle tickets?' And now, on this beautiful August bank holiday morning, you have nearly 700 'Zombies' lurching towards you.

As we're all putting bloodied hands in to grad a raffle ticket, this young lady is looking particularly scared. As I take my tocket, she says in an uneasy voice 'Er.. this would probably be easier if I wasn't so scared of Zombies...'

Anyways, the Zombie walk/ meet was a hoot. We didn't break the record, but the morning did involve such classics as: that wedding cracker, Zombie Conga; the disco-tastic Zombie Hokey-Cokey; kids classic, Hot-Potato (well Hot-Fake-Guts really); the old family favourite, Zombie three legged race; and the ever popular, 'How many Zombies can you fit in a Phone Box?'. After that, we walked around Leciester Square, and bombarded all the local shops and terrorised them. Marvellous.

Obviously, we were quite an unusual site. At many times during the day, we had to pose for tourists. One particular encounter I remember (and will probably need to bring up at a 'session' in the future) was a couple of American guys. We were sitting on a bench, and these two yanks walked up to us. We chatted for a while, and then he asked if he could have a photo taken with us. So someone decided it would be best if he lied accross us. I believe the girls were hoping that we would be sitting on their laps (apparently he was good looking, although I didn't see it).

And he did start his lie down by sitting on someone's lap. Mine. One of my hands was trapped between one of his legs, and someone's boob (at least half good, although it was the back of my hand on the boob - no chance of copping a feel). The other was behind me somewhere. All the girls thought he was great, but he could have sat down on any of three lovely young lady's laps, but chose me. A friggin bloke! What does that tell ya?

Anyways, after that, we proceeded to Camden Lock on the tube. For some reason, all the people on the underground were giving us funny looks. I can't work out why.

Well that was the highlight of my week. I'm now going to get some sleep before starting my new job at Chesswood Middle School as a Teaching Asst. See y'all next week.

If you think that me dressing up as a Zombie is daft, why not leave a comment telling me that I'm a dullard.

If you think it was good to see me 'letting my hair down' why not leave me a comment, telling me how to get fake blood stains out of the upholstery of my car...

Quote of the Week: 'Can I have a photo with you' aksed the 15th Japanese tourist of the day, wanting their picture taken with us.

Song of the Month: Worried about Ray. Hoosiers.

CATCOUK: The Return…

It was a traditional British morning in Heathrow (heavy clouds, wind, drizzle, you know the usual), as the mighty Boeing 777 wheels screeched on the runway during a rough touch down. The monstrous jet engines settle down to a gentle rumble, and the aircraft pulled in to the gate in Terminal 4.

A motorcade of vehicles pulled up outside of the Terminal, awaiting their passenger. Black Range Rover, after black Range Rover, after black Range Rover, after 1986 Ford Escort 1.4 GL Estate in Champagne Gold, after black Range Rover… I walk out of the terminal and get into my car.

With a police escort, we are rushed into central London to Buckingham Palace, where the queen awaited for an important meeting. The motorcade drove into the palace, and pulled up outside the door. I stepped out of my mighty steed that is my Escort, and entered the palace. A was steered towards a small conference room.

After meeting with the Queen, and giving her my report on the colony, I got into an open top saloon car, and we proceeded down The Mall in a big ticker tape parade…

And then I woke up. The damn plane hit the runway with all the force it could muster, in an attempt to shatter my spine. Then began the menagerie that is air travel. First to border/ passport control, which had a queue three miles along (even longer than a friggin’ roller coaster). Next was the event that is… baggage collection.

I don’t know what it is that makes me despise air travel the most. The 3 hour wait for the plane to depart, the 7 hour wait on the plane for it to arrive, or the 26 year wait that it takes to get your bags back! Honestly, could they make it an anymore long and drawn out process. This was made worse still, by the fact that they were using our baggage conveyor for two BA flights. Ours from Newark, and a second from Chicago.

It looked as though they were unloading the Chicago bags first, despite all of the people waiting were on the Newark flight. There were bags going around endlessly on that belt. I swear, that in the 45 minutes I spent waiting, the first 15-20 bags stayed exactly where they were, filling up the belt. And jus when you think you can see your bag coming around, someone else picks it up, as you realise it’s not your bag. I even picked a bag that was exactly like mine, until I checked the label, and then some young lady took.

Eventually, I walked through Customs, and came into the International Arrivals lounge, where there were loads of business men, and chauffeurs with boards. And at the very back, a lone women standing with dishevelled hair, waving like she had just escaped from a local looney bin. Yes, it was my Mum, obviously pleased to see me.

A long time ago, I stated that I really haven’t been on holiday, unless I have been to a Little Chef. This stems from years of holiday when I was younger on the Norfolk Broads. You could bet your life, that at some point during the trip (normally twice) we would go for a Little Chef as lunch or dinner or on the trip there or home. And so, for my very first meal in Britain since leaving for the states, I had a Little Chef Olympic Breakfast. And they do make good sausages…

So we carried on towards home, in my Dad’s car (Ernie was at home, we’d already discussed it), and it was taking forever. Because of the detour to the Little Chef, we had to take the back roads. So when we got near home, I was very excited in anticipation of seeing my beautiful car. I was talking with Andy (a very senior officer in the corps) and he asked if my car would be shiny and clean for my return.

Of course not.

Dad had dressed my car, like one of the characters from the Disney film cars, and my brother had spent his last few days, filling my car with 156 balloons. They were all pleased to see me back, I guess…
Well, now that I’m back, CATCOUK will probably return to normal service. And by that, I mean you should all expect delays, and disappointments. Welcome back to Britain!

If you think I should have stayed in the US, why not leave a comment, starting your message with ‘I can’t wait for you to go back next year’.

If you are pleased to have me back, why not leave a comment, starting your message with ‘I can’t wait for you to come back next year’.

Quote of the Week: ‘So, at the bottom of the ocean, there’s enough pressure to liquidise Hydrogen?’ asked my brother, after he questioned me on how water can exist without oxygen. I told him it only existed as pure Hydrogen at the very deepest part of the oceans.

Goodbyes and Farewells

Apologies for the delay. Technical difficulties. Please read on…

So this was the very last week of camp this week. To start with, we brought down the entirety of the camp’s canvas (all the tents and tarps). And wasn’t that exciting boys and girls? The next day we did something equally as thrilling. What an exciting start to my final week at camp.

On Monday, we had to go out to the lake and collect the boat. We had several people offer to help us with the boat. Anyone would think that camp shut down was boring or something… In the end, we had one of the past sailing directors with us (as I have no idea about how to put away a boat that big), her husband, and health officer Pat, my boss, Jo (my assistant for next year), and myself.

You may remember earlier on this year, I spoke about Pat driving me to hospital. And on that trip, Pat took out a mail box with the camp’s road legal monster truck (called a GMC Suburban over here). Because of that, he was not allowed to drive the truck, so Jordan offered to drive. As it turns out, Jordan is a maniac! But before we talk about that, I break the conversation for some exciting news!

Most guys my age might get excited, and brag about making love to a beautiful woman. What am I going to cheer about? Driving the Suburban of course! Last week Jordan asked me to drive for the food run, but I owned up and said that I couldn’t because of the rules. Well, when we towed the boat off the slipway on the trailer, everyone else was fiddling with the winch that was non-operational.

Well, I saw no point in me getting my feet wet, so I stayed in the truck, and watched. Eventually, I told them not to bother. And they needed someone to pull the boat from the water. And yes, I was that man! You have to understand, that just typing this, I have a huge grin on my face. Can you imagine how elated I was, when I got behind the wheel of that big blue 6.5 litre V8 beast! Furthermore, I enjoy different driving challenges.

Not only did I get to drive the ‘burban, but I was towing 1000 pounds (weight) of boat as well! Even more amazing, is how little it effected the pull of the truck. All 100 metres of driving from the slip, and through the parking lot (more American terms) was bliss. Immense. [Sigh]. For I will never know that level of driving perfection again… (Yes, I know. I really need to get a girlfriend, or just get out more.)

Anyways, on the way home, Jordan took the helm again, and steered us back to camp. As it turns out, he is a mad driver. We were just chatting in the truck, and the rest of the guys were in a car behind. On the way back, Jordan might have slightly exceeded the speed limit. In a ‘work zone’. I didn’t notice (it’s a big truck).

The week progressed onwards, and the shutdown ‘week’ was over by Tuesday, so that on Wednesday, we could go on our end of year staff trip to Hershey Park (yes like the chocolate). It was basically a theme park, but had a small zoo attached to it, as well as a museum of Hershey chocolate. It turns out, my mum has a job there.
Now before I start getting hundreds upon hundreds of E-mails, complaining about how I just slagged off my mum, I should point out that mum calls me Roo (as in Andrew), so I call her Moo. Hence why she was there. Okay? Good.

After that, I was picked up by my sponsor troop from New Jersey, and taken ‘home’ to Dunellen. Once again, the great guys from Troop 29 have taken care of me, and I’ve done some great things. Saturday morning, I walked over the Brooklyn Bridge (if you don’t know which one that is, just picture a bridge in New York, and you’ll know which one), and then went to the top of the Empire State Building. What an amazing experience! And the view from the top was tremendous.

Since the destruction of the World Trade Centre, the Empire State is once again the tallest skyscraper in New York City. From the top of there, it just feels like you are sitting on top of the city. I can see why King Kong liked it up there so much…

Lastly, I need to finish this week’s delayed post with an amazing report. On Sunday 19th August 2007, I gave my first autograph! That’s right, a waitress in Applebee’s (a family dining chain in the states) recognised my voice. In the US, a car insurance company advertises itself with an English speaking Gecko. She heard my voice, and new it was me that does the voice…

Normally I would point out the mistake, but Bill Vincent (the guy that I was with) egged her on, so I thought ‘Well, when in Rome…’. The funniest thing is, the Gekko is voiced by a Londoner. To see what I’m on about, see here (YouTube).

Well, it’s with a sense of poetic justice, that when I started writing this post, I was in Dunellen, New Jersey, but I am finishing it here, sitting at my usual desk in Angmering, Sussex. And that concludes the annals of my American adventure. Tune in next week, to find out what happened when I returned to the UK. Although I would like to add, that by not posting, I got an almost record number of comments in a few days…

If you think I should have just posted this, instead of wasting more time by fishing for comments, why not leave a comment.

If you read this blog every week, but have never left a comment, you are a thief.

Quote of the Week: ‘We are now boarding British Airways flight 184 for London Heathrow, at Gate 68…’

Late post alert

Gees, who does this guy think he is? Another late post? No committment, that's the problem.

Tune in Monday evening/ Tuesday morning.

The End?

Well, I’d like to start with a moan. I can’t remember the last time you lot did this to me, but it was ages ago. No one left any comments on last week’s post. I didn’t think it was that bad, or did none of you go to work on Monday morning? Either way, my feelings are wounded.

On to more important things. That’s right, even though you couldn’t bothered to take 30 seconds of your life to write me a comment (good or bad), I am still going to sit here and type up my story for an hour. This week was the last week of program here at Ockanickon Scout Reservation. And it was one very busy week.

You may remember a few weeks ago that I told you we were averaging more than 6 Scouts a week in our program, despite our maximum being 6. Well this week, someone had overbooked the campsite, by two hundred campers (or there abouts). Moreover, it was only two weeks ago when I was doing tent assignments that we noticed this. ‘Err… Tom. We have 60 more campers than we have beds for….’

But this is Ockanickon, the Scout camp where anything can happen. Somehow (11 new tent platforms later, and several other ‘stand-alone’ tents) we managed to get everyone here. Add to this, the people we invited back after the virus of week one and two on Thursday and Friday, and we had near as makes no difference 1000 people on camp. And that’s a lot.

In sailing this week, 13 people took the sailing merit badge, which is more than double our capacity. It just took some logistical genius, and a program so difficult to follow, you have to have a rocket science degree to understand it. But we did it. Leaving our end of season weekly average at 7.5 Scouts.

Because of the excessive number of people in camp this week, we couldn’t fit everyone into the dining hall. Anyone coming back to ‘make-up’ their camp from weeks one and two had to eat at their campsite (which was completely new). For this, the camp had to assemble a crack team, an elite force if you will.

Operation Dessert Storm! (as apposed to the desert of the sandy variety)

To lead this catering extravaganza, a team was needed. But not just any team. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you are hungry, maybe you can hire, the MEAL A Team! (We have two meal seatings at camp, Meal A and Meal B).

After that complete pun experience, I’m sure that I don’t need to say anymore. Lead by my tent mate and friend, Jordan ‘Big Daddy’ Kivitz, with me Andy ‘Candy Pants’ Clarke, we were all set to deliver 50 meals in our white Dodge minibus (not quite the A Team van I know).

That made up the funnest part of my week.

Up until now, my American experience has been plagued by a variety of different illnesses and injuries. To date we have: poison ivy, broken and sprained ankle, NORO virus, bad bee sting with allergic reaction, bad back, and now [drum roll please]…

A THROAT INFECTION

I think it’s from the tail end of a bug that I’ve had all week. But it’s all been a bit bizarre. On Thursday night, we were watching a DVD of V for Vendetta (good movie), and this bug caused me to go deaf in one ear. I have no idea what is causing it, but I know that I am bored of it now.

Lastly, I feel that I should pass on my wisdom. On Wednesday night, I was taken out to a movie by an old staff member. The most important factor in this, is that the old (as in previous) staff member was attractive and female. I had almost forgotten what a woman was.

Anyways, we went out to the movies and saw ‘The Simpsons Movie’. Absolutely hilariously funny. As always, we have an official CATCOUK rating. So how many Escorts out of 5 did the movie earn?

5 Escorts out of 5 – If you like the Simpsons, you’ll LOVE this film. SpiderPig does whatever SpiderPig does.

Well, we are now closing down the camp, and I’ll be home in just over a week. Hope all is still well in Britain, and that Monty and Ernie are looking forward to my return, I can’t wait to see them. This may be my last post until I return, so don’t worry if nothing appears next week. See you in two weeks.

Countdown to Britain (as of Monday 0900): 184 hours.

If you never read this blog, and hate it, why not not leave a comment, and don’t start it with ‘don’t bother writing this dribble’.

If you do read this, and want to continue to do so, why not take the time to write something within the next two weeks. I bet you can’t beat the CATCOUK record of 12 comments.

Quote of the Week: ‘Well, you are sub-amazing’ said Todd Warner (the only man whose glare can be felt from 10 miles away) after I said that I wasn’t as amazing as him.

Song of the Month (because I forgot last week): Don’t Bring Me Down. Electric Light Orchestra (ELO).

Use the book as the bee does…

Well this week has been a fairly non-descript week in America. I like to think that that has been fully reflected by this week’s post title. No I don’t understand it either.

Just to show how non descript this week has been, I start this week with Terry Robinson’s epic battle to end the leader’s introductory meeting by 9.40pm (for goodness sake – how did this even make the cut). So by now, you will have realised that I am clutching at straws, but you’re reading on, so I’ll keep writing.

Every Sunday evening, a bunch of senior staff members, and department heads give a series of talks to the leaders of the Scout troops that are in for the week. I go as Asst. Sailing Director, because my boss has stuff to do at the camp fire, which runs concurrently with the meeting. It has appeared that as the season has gone on, our Leader’s meetings have gotten longer and longer. Mainly through contributions from talkative department heads (myself included).

One of our Asst. Camp Directors, Terry, decided this week that we needed to get the meeting over and done with sooner, so that the staff could actually get some sleep before the morning. As I sat down after my Sailing talk, Terry announced to the staff that he would have this meeting wrapped up by 9.40. Usually, we aren’t done until 10. ‘You reckless fool, Terry’ was my reply. It seemed to me like trying to drive a car at 5 miles an hour over the speed limit to get to the takeaway before it closes.

As the department heads had finished, Terry stood up, with a whole third of a meeting to go. Up to this point, the meeting had taken an hour and three minutes, and the time was now 9.33. Terry had seven minutes to complete the meeting. As Terry stood up, everyone could hear the Rocky fanfare in their head. Terry approached the podium, and a full band marched in playing the full orchestral version of the entire Rocky theme. Well that’s how it sounded in my head.

Oh, I know you are all dying to know if Terry achieved this Olympian feat. And yes he did. By 40 whole seconds…

You may remember last week I spoke of an amazing man by the name of Todd Warner (a man so amazing, that he has eight days in his week, he has an extra day between Saturday and Sunday). This week, one of our departments was short staffed, so our amazing colleague stepped into the breach, and taught Citizenship in the Nation. I have never had so many comments of praise and amazement about a class in this department. What he was doing with those kids this week I don’t know, but whatever is was, it was amazing…

Now, I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I am an odd person, but I am an odd person. In this week, the 8th week of my American experience, I finally succumbed to experience homesickness (or domestic nostalgia as the Boy Scouts of America call it). Now this sounds perfectly normal doesn’t it? But it’s me that we’re talking about, and of course I wouldn’t suffer homesickness in the normal way.

Most people would miss their mum, or their family, or maybe even their friends. Now to be fair, I do miss everyone to a point, but not so much that it has caused me to feel homesick. Not even being separated from Monty, my cat, caused my homesickness. No, in actual fact, what did I miss most? Ernie, my car! What kind of weirdo am I?

I really miss driving. Pat (our Health Officer) described my approach to cars and driving, like 17 year old boys approach to the fairer sex. And to be fair, I really do miss my car. So much that it almost hurts. I am weird.

Since about week 4, our ‘big’ sailing boat has not worked quite properly. No one here (including myself) really knew what was causing this. Whilst I am more than capable of running a competent sailing program, but I don’t know an awful lot about repairing large boats. The vast majority of my sailing experience is with small boats.

So I E-mailed the boating manager back home at the NTC. My theory is, that if Ian Jones doesn’t know it about sailing, it’s not worth knowing. He came up with a variety of options, that I have been playing with, to no real effect.

One of the options, was that there was too much weight at the front of the boat. I have looked throughout the foreward cabin, and found to excess weight that wasn’t their week one. And the anchor on the foredeck isn’t that heavy.

This week, I finally decided I was bored of not being able to sail close to the wind, so I stripped the foreward cabin. When I did this, I found that there were two forward compartments that I didn’t know about. The first hold was empty, and the second hatch lead right to the bowels of the hull. And what did I find? Gallons upon gallons of water.

No, I don’t know how it got there. And no, I don’t want to know how it got there. Needless to say, I think I may have found the source of excess weight that was causing us issues. Marvellous. We are emptying out the boat tomorrow, so you can find out how successful this was next week (what a subject to look forward to…).

Lastly, this weekend I got to visit a town called New Hope. How to describe New Hope… Oh yeah. It’s basically Brighton without the beach. And American. You’ll get the idea of the town, when I tell you that the town’s flag is a rainbow…

‘So Andy,’ asked many staff members today, ‘how was New Hope’. To which I replied, ‘Eclectic.’ To write about all of the establishments that I visited would be highly Scout INappropriate. And I’m not talking about alcohol for a change. All I can say is, that Pat has some… er… interesting hobbies.

After our eclectic visit to New Hope, we went to a local vineyard to do some wine tasting. Obviously we were all asked if we were legal. Of course I said that I was. Well in England at least. Who’s worried about US Federal Law… Now, I am not a big wine drinker, so I didn’t dare break the local laws and try any of the wine. Nor did I prove how light weight my alcohol stamina is by feeling a bit dizzy after trying just 10 wines. Lastly, I wouldn’t know that I have a taste for sweet wines…

Well, I hear that the weather is now improving from torrential downpour to light drizzle, so I hope that you are all okay, and that Britain is no longer sinking into the Atlantic. Hello to all my friends, family, and especially Monty, and most defiantly my car, Ernie the Escort.

Countdown to Britain (as of Monday 0900): 352 hours.

If you think that this was a mediocre entry, and that I am a bizarre person, why not leave a comment starting your message with the word ‘weirdo’.

If you think that this was a mediocre entry, and that I am a sub-bizarre persin, why not leave a comment starting you message with the word ‘asparagus’.

Quote of the Week: [Please imagine in a slightly Southern male accent] ‘Give a girl a chance, and they don’t smell too fine either,’ said a Scout in response to my comment that being amongst men all day every day for three months is fine, but women look and smell a lot nicer.