my first 21 years

I was surprised to read in the Metro today that:

Andy Murray has launched a stinging attack on his fellow British tennis players, accusing them of being too pampered and lacking the hunger to succeed.

Actually that wasn't the thing that shocked me. Andy Murray having a gripe is hardly front page news. The surprising thing is the source of the story - Andy's autobiography, Hitting Back.

He has an autobiography? He's, what, 12?

Okay I exaggerate but I just feel a bit perplexed at the spate of young sports stars and celebrities publishing their life stories before they've really begun to live. Twenty-two year old Cristiano Ronaldo has his memoir, Moments - although from what I've seen it's mainly pictures; Charlotte Church (also tenty-two) fills her Keep Smiling with terms like 'lush' to prove it wasn't ghost written... many of my pupils obviously use her writing for inspiration; Britney was only nineteen when she got her mom in on the act to co-write Heart to Heart, Twenty-six year old Billie Piper's Growing Pains is surprising good but i just wish she'd waited a bit longer (I suppose a bit like how she feels about her marriage to Chris Evans.) Do they feel they have to rush them out while they are still in the public eye - clinging to celebrity like a tick to a stray dog.

Footballers are the worst. The list is endless: Stephen Gerrard (Gerrard), John Terry, Robbie Fowler (Robbie Fowler: My Autobiography), Ryan Giggs, (Giggs: The Autobiography) Rio Ferdinand (Rio: My Story), Ashley Cole (My Defence), Frank Lampard (Totally Frank), Didier Drogba (Didier Drogba: The Autobiography) You have to love the imaginative titles.

Wayne Rooney has a £5million deal to write a SERIES of autobiographies. No footballer is more than one book interesting.

I have to admit that I started my biography when I was eleven. It's called the Slimey Git and the Zombie. Someday I'll tell you why... but not until I am at least 50 and I'm ready to publish.

No I will not be reading Andy Murray's little offering. Truth be told I wouldn't listen to his whinging if he was ninety - although at ninety he may have learned not to whinge.

now that's not something I thought I'd see

Every so often in this strange dander through the daisies that we like to call life some thing happens that makes you stop for a minute and go "Now that was odd"

In my case it was whilst I was browsing the web reading reviews and checking out the photos from the Casino Royale premiere in London. This one photo managed to throw my mental state such that I forgot all about what I was going to be teaching next period - and to breath for several minutes.

Actually I exaggerate. Paris and Judy - although apparently very different people - move in similar celebrity orbits. They were bound to collide eventually. Dame Judy Dench got there by being an extremely talented actress who has worked a life time of labour and consistently produced amazing performances on stage and screen (As Time Goes By notwithstanding) - Paris Hilton fought hard as a competing sperm twenty six years ago to be born an heiress. Thousands didn't make it - she should be congratulated.

I feel a little bad for Paris sometimes. It wasn't her fault she was born rich. It wasn't her fault that she never experienced what most people consider a normal upbringing. It wasn't her fault she had a sleaze for a boyfriend. Yet there are people out there who have created web sites ridiculing her, berating her, and even flash games where the player attempts to kill her. A slight overreaction perhaps. The girl isn't the brightest, nor the most compassionate, nor the most witty... but she's hardly a serial killer.

As for that photo; well, actually there is another PH image that shook me to the core in a much more disturbing way...