Trollied Revisited

Okay so I know I ‘retired’ from blogging in 2015, but I didn’t say it was going to be forever! That said, this is not a full blown return to writing – it’s more like revisionism rather than recidivism.

Apparently it is good blogging etiquette for bloggers to go back and update old blogs with new light through old windows, although one could interpret this as the blogger has become lazy and / or so dull that they’ve run out of topics…

In short, I’m still on sabbatical but just fancied penning a final update to a couple of my most viewed blogs during the period I was actively writing.

This was triggered by watching a re-run of the Sky One comedy Trollied – a show which past readers will know I really enjoy, due to drawing comparisons with my own 8 years working for a major supermarket.

Shamelessly I've even tried soliciting for a cameo on the show, but unsurprisingly I have thus far been unsuccessful!

So anyways, this piece of writing is going to dip back in to tart up the originals, and add a couple of new bits… if you are willing to stay the course!

Trollied Revisited

So, the series link on my tellybox has informed me that Trollied is back for a SIXTH series this Autumn! This means I can once again spend several autumn nights reminiscing about how little has changed in the world of supermarket retail since I escaped in 1999. Having completed nearly eight custodial years, starting at the tender age of 15 years and 3 months (wouldn’t happen these days), it’s fair to say that I left (aged 23) with some interesting experiences, and not least a few life skills, such as:

• How to operate dangerous slicing machinery when drunk

• How to throw and catch rat poison traps

• What’s appropriate to eat on the shop floor – and what’s not

• How to go ‘missing’ when you’re in a store you don’t like working at

• How to keep your staff happy
• And how to piss your staff off

• How NOT to grate Parmesan
• And why no-one should EVER buy freshly grated Parmesan

…and that’s just off the top of my head over the last minute or so.

To those who have never seen Trollied, upon first viewing it might all seem a bit odd, and borderline crass at points. What they should be in no doubt about at all though is just how realistic Trollied really is. If you’ve done your time in food retail, then you will recognise exactly how accurate some of the apparent outlandish storylines actually are.

For the vast majority of the characters on screen there’s someone I can name from my time in store who IS that person. In fact the only thing that Trollied rightly chooses not to dwell on too much is the fact that some (not many) of the managers back in the day could be quite nasty individuals.

I’d like to hope that particular point has changed now.

So in comparison, and in addition to the storylines in Trollied, here are just a few blasts from the staff of the past:

• Sleeping on top of the warehouse chillers (knew a guy that did this at least once a week)

• Performing knee slides across the floor on night shift (every night)

• Wilfully damaging goods (I saw a guy do a meticulously planned flying headbutt into a pallet of 200 egg boxes) – in fact this same guy willingly let someone set fire to his hair in the canteen, just to see how fast it would burn. He also had a diary where he could mark off how many days it would be before he went sick again, without him being sacked for persistent absence. Oh and he also often spoke of wanting to put an end to his wife. Yes wife, not life. Something involving a train I think.

• Sex acts in the warehouse (didn’t witness this [or partake!] but it happened fairly often – and also in the customer toilets on nightshifts)

• Being chucked in the baler (the new kids on Produce)

• Eating food from the shopfloor shelves (standard practise)

• Describing fruit shapes to old ladies using genitalia innuendo (too many to mention, but mamba and aubergines are words that spring to mind... oh and horned melons)

• The legendary tannoy broadcast “This is a customer announcement. There is an urgent call for Mike Hunt, who is shopping in the store today. Please can Mike Hunt come to Customer Services” (I kid you not.) Later that night, by pure fluke, I actually met the bloke who put the prank call in. Turns out he didn’t work for us, but had done it for a mate of his whose last day it was.

• Managers ‘stealing’ other managers’ cars, parking them halfway across town and letting the tyres down (I loved working at that branch!)

• The Produce boy who happened to accidentally glance at the Bakery girl who was collecting strawberries from the warehouse. So she says to him “What the f*ck are you looking at?” ... Five years later they were married #romancenotdead

It’s not an exhaustive list by any means, but you get the gist.

Ultimately, it’s all about the people, and I would still insist that most of the people I worked with were tip top characters, but that didn’t stop some of them being a bit odd!

Having been around for a few years, I was fortunate enough to get promotion a couple of times. The main one was becoming the new Delicatessen Manager at a store in Brighton, starting just three days after my 21^st birthday.

A Deli Counter. Not mine though... Mine was in colour

It’s fair to say that up till that point of my retail career, I’d seen a few things that had opened my naïve innocent young eyes a little, but nothing prepared me for the response I received on my first few weeks in that new role.

What could go so wrong?

Well specifically it was three things that made some of my new staff not that keen on me:

• I was introduced to them on the first day as God.
• I was young.
• I was male.

I was already feeling over exposed at the oversized tent of a suit I had to wear, but being introduced as The Almighty sank me lower than the Titanic. It was horrendously embarrassing, and I have no idea why my introducer opted to say that, but I think maybe because he had been looking after the counter in the absence of a manager and wanted them to think I was there to ‘save’ them. I REALLY had to underplay that title in the first few weeks to stave off fears of being called arrogant. Talk about a stitch up.

As for ‘being young and male’ – well they both sound ridiculously ancient don’t they? But it was a genuine issue as Deli counters traditionally (although not exclusively) had been a rather female dominated environment, and here I was, this 'boy', taking over the running of their baby and many of them were not at all comfortable with it. To them, I was the Anti Milky-Bar Kid in more ways than one.

It took a ton of effort to win certain staff over and prove I was worthy.

For example, during that first week I remember cleaning out the bins. I wanted to muck in and do everything and not be some aloof ‘suit’, so I thought this might help somewhat. Nope. The opposite in fact, as this action extremely upset one of the senior ladies as she’d done the bins on Thursdays for the last twelve years, and boy had I now stepped on her toes!

Whilst she was being comforted and consoled by another elder stateswoman (because she WAS in tears), my confidence wasn’t helped by the deliberately loud comment ‘I told them we should have been given a woman manager’

Lovely, heart warming stuff…

Altogether I had 17 staff, which included two male students, three female students, and the rest were females old enough to be my mother or grandmother. It would be wrong though to say that ALL the elder females didn’t want me there.

One Scottish lady in particular took to me quite early on and stated that she felt I’d been a bit stitched up, and that even before I’d arrived I was on a hiding to nothing as a colleague of mine at my previous branch had popped in the week before to ‘advise’ them about me. 

Her assessment being:

‘He’s a nice guy, but he’s not up to being a manager’

...which was ironic given that less than 12 months earlier, I’d had to cover her sorry ass over a Christmas period when she couldn’t cope when acting up as a deputy manager herself.

Bod was RUBBISH at Murder in the Dark

It was a shame to be knifed in the back before I’d even started, but she’d always been a touch bitter, having felt mistreated by the firm over her own career path over the years. I felt sorry for her but why try and hurt me?

Perhaps I didn’t help improve my standing with the others though as when appointing a senior assistant, I fairly opted for the best person. Following interviews, this happened to be another male.

The furore that kicked off simply because I’d given the job to a male was unbelievable. It took intervention from the Personnel Manager to sort out the ridiculous complaints (sexism, ageism, experience-ism!) that arose because of it. If it was sexism they were looking for, the staff on the Fresh Meat Counter were only three steps to the right!

Eventually they started speaking to me again, though it was probably several weeks later. In truth, their gripes were harmless – they just had certain standards that they felt were still viable.

I’m sure a lot of it was simply a generational thing, rather than a personal attack, and as such, when we see the Miriam Margolyes character in Trollied, I’m always reminded of a dear old lady on my team. Let’s call her Joan.

When I took up the role, Joan was already formally retired and worked two days a week, and in those 1990’s days of blossoming equality, she demanded to be treated as everyone else on the Deli counter – and rightfully so.

After a while she chose to ‘further’ retire and cut her hours down to just one day a week. This was fine, and I didn’t really give it much thought… but on the day of her retirement she refused to serve on the counter until she’d been given a retirement present by the store manager.

Staff that had been there long before me said this was now the FOURTH retirement she’d had (one day a week less each year) and frankly they were fed up with continuing to cough up money for her. We got over it by me buying her something out of my own pocket, under the auspices of a collection.

Joan was over the moon with the piece of wooden tat that ‘we’ had got her, but later that same day, she ran off from the counter crying.

One of the temporary staff members had told a customer that they’d be better off going to a rival store as we were rubbish, and Joan being the loyal soul that she was, took this comment as a personal insult to her, and she refused now to work with this "traitor!" – her words, not mine.

So now I had to be a peace maker and nigh on beg the offender to apologise to her. He was a radical, right wing political type (studying economics and politics at university) and this didn’t sit well with him at all, but thankfully he said sorry to Joan as a favour to me… but left me in the crap less than a week later by just not ever turning up again!

I wouldn’t say Joan came out of this well either though, as again on that SAME day, I had to leave early and caught her getting on the same bus as me, fully 30 minutes before she was supposed to clock off. Having been well and truly busted, she steered clear of causing me any grief again for a while.

Another staple of Trollied are the undertones of relationships. In all the stores I worked in, there was an incestuous undertone. Funny at times, but lurid at others.

On a personal note, no-one really fancied me much anyway, but I tended to try and steer clear of dating anyone from work. In fact I only indulged two or three times, which was enough, as it took no time at all for rumours to spread around the store as to what happened on such inter-staff dates.

One girl I went out with got bullied because I put in an order for her to have a new hat to wear on the Deli. ALL staff had to wear hats and she had simply lost hers. That was interpreted as ‘to get a new hat you must sleep with the Deli Manager’

It obviously didn’t mean that and, for the record: 
NO... I didn’t!

Then there was the checkout girl who had relations of sorts with at least a dozen other members of staff from the same store (seven in the same night if rumours are to be believed)… and frankly I lost count of the amount of senior managers visiting the customer toilets with checkout girls. And boys.

I even had my own brush with a ‘Mrs Robinson’ experience. To be fair I was 21, and she was only 34…but her 13 year seniority on me was quite something to experience! Additionally, when I was 19 I was accused of having an affair with my female manager, who was well into her 50’s #shudder … and NO, I didn’t do that either!

Care to do a stock check Elaine?

My last move within the company was sold as a promotion, but ultimate it lead to me departing the job within 8 months. Within a week of working at my new store, I knew I wouldn't be staying long. That was October 1998, and I left the company in May 1999, and those last 8 months were as bad as the previously 24 months had been good. This is detailed in the other blogs (see links below), but suffice to say it meant it brought a sadder ending to my time in retail than had been the prologue.

All in all the 8 years were mostly pretty good, and watching Trollied brings back some fab and funny memories. It’s very realistic and should be a real eye opener to those who think it is fiction. It isn’t!

Would I want to go back to retail though? Well never say never.

But no! NO! NO! NO!

So there you go – and just for fun (and to boost the site hit counter), the two original untouched blogs can be found by clicking the links below, so fill your boots:

Getting Trollied Again

It Was A Woman's World

And as I’m feeling kind, I’ll leave you with TWO top tips:

1. Never buy grated parmesan from a deli counter… 
2. When a can of beans rattles with a thud rather than a slosh. Don’t look inside.

 

Falling Into Football

It’s fair to say that my two main hobbies / interests are music and football. Plenty of my blogs have delved into my music tastes, so maybe it’s about time to talk football.

I didn’t really grow up having a direct football influence in my house. My parents have never been into football so by default it was never on TV, save a handful of times as I recall my Dad watching the occasional England Vs Scotland clash, probably due to a sense of patriotic duty.

Nor did I ever really play much football as a child, as I just wasn’t that good, and liable to break into a fit of nervous giggles whenever I actually got passed the ball… though I did get better as I got older and proudly even scored one solitary goal for the school team in a mini tournament when I was about 13. In fact it was a bit like Lineker's first in this clip!
No really!

The only occasions I got anywhere near close to football exposure was via my grandparents – both of whom loved the game. My paternal Grandad was a Tottenham fan (even though he came from south of the River), and his father before him had been a dyed in the wool Fulham fan. My maternal Grandad was a Brighton & Hove Albion season ticket holder, but nothing really drew my attention too much to the sport whilst I was young. Not even the 1983 FA Cup final when my local team Brighton, in unlikely circumstances, actually took Manchester United to a replay before succumbing to defeat. I do recall watching both games, but really I was just a seven year old boy supporting Brighton for geographical reasons rather than actually knowing much about it.

So the tide didn’t turn until I was ten and a half years old, and around about May 1986.

We had a school project running about a month before the Mexico ’86 World Cup and we were allocated teams to write about in ‘news bulletins’.
As I wasn’t particularly fussed about football I just went with the flow, and along with a couple of other girls in the class, I was asked to adopt Scotland. 

Were Scotland any good? I really didn’t know!

I do remember hearing that England had beaten West Germany in a pre-tournament friendly (whatever that meant) so maybe this was a good thing?

As the tournament started I remember learning that England had lost their first game, and then drew the next and was on the verge of going out of the tournament early. ‘So what!?’ I thought. I hadn't watched either England game, or any of the other matches so far – I was just so totally nonchalant about it all.

And then a strange thing happened which I still can’t fathom out to this day. On June 11^th I went to bed as normal – probably around 9pm, but got woken up by my Dad at about 1030pm. My Dad – generally a loather of football and all that was associated with it – woke me up and said:

“Come downstairs and watch the football, England are two nil up!”

I really only went down because it was an excuse to be up late, but as I got downstairs, some guy called Lineker banged in his third goal and England – or we the nation as I instantly now felt – were three nil up! 

Why my Dad brought me downstairs I just don’t know, and I’m sure he doesn't know either, but watching that goal and the second half of the game got me solidly involved with football hook, line and sinker, and I never looked back. It really was just like a switch that someone had turned on. 

England had two more games at that tournament before being knocked out in the cruellest of fashions. The Maradona ‘Hand of God’ goal was hard to take for a young child naïve to the ways of fair play (or lack of it) in football.

Diego Maradona made me cry about football for the first time (though not the last) and I couldn’t understand how such a thing could have been allowed to happen. I’m sure it wasn’t corruption on behalf of the officials, though it was highly incompetent officiating for them ALL to miss such a blatant aspect of cheating.
Maradona was the classic flawed genius whose misdemeanours caught up with him in time; other such talents followed suit in the years to come as England were denied a greater impact on the world stage without the fully realised potential of (for example) Paul Gascoigne, largely due to injuries.

One thing I learnt very early on though in my football education is that there’s one thing you can guarantee from the beautiful game: Football will continuously let you down.

Anyway, I digress.

The tricky thing about getting into football during a World Cup is that I had to learn quickly who these England players actually played for and I quickly wanted a club to support. Whilst I knew very soon that Brighton & Hove Albion was to be my team, it wasn’t out of favouritism for one of my Grandads’ over the other – in fact I still hold a soft spot for Tottenham in memory of my Spurs supporting Grandad – plus my son’s great great Grandfather had actually been a Spurs player.
Add into this I really admired Glenn Hoddle and Chris Waddle during the World Cup, and they were / are absolute Spurs legends.

Mullet-tastic

My Dad’s Mum was from Islington, which likely explains why his only soft spot for any club football team was Arsenal. Regardless, I was born in Brighton, so I proudly opted to support my local team.

The football season couldn’t start soon enough and my brain soon started soaking up stats like they were going out of fashion. In fact I would suspect this is where my OCD started. I was playing catch up with my friends who had been into football for years and I just had to get my knowledge factually correct or they’d cut me down in a second – because let’s face it, kids can be cruel that way!

During that first full season, I became deeply immersed with it all, culminating in attending my first proper football match ever with my Grandad on April 10^th 1987.

The Goldstone Ground

Brighton and Hove Albion Vs Crystal Palace was a local derby with deadly historic rivalry and I sat in the West Stand at the well loved, but run down Goldstone Ground on the Old Shoreham Road / Newtown Road to see us win 2-0. It was a terrific day and set the grounding for my desire to follow ‘The Albion’ forever, even though we were relegated that season!

That aside, it was largely good experiences in my football journey in those early years, but it wasn’t always wonderful.
Yes, I’d been upset about how Maradona cheated England out of the 1986 World Cup, but that feeling was nothing when compared to watching fellow football fans die on the television. Merely watching the Hillsborough tragedy unfold in 1989 was devastatingly awful, so it's impossible to comprehend how those directly involved must have felt - and still feel. I remember watching the presenter of Grandstand (Bob Wilson) trying desperately to keep it together. He was getting so choked up and I was on the verge of doing the same.

You can’t really go and research to see what it was like through recorded video footage (not that I’d recommend it anyway), because huge amounts of coverage were never broadcast on television or elsewhere again, such were the graphic images being shown. At the time, British football fans had a reputation (rightly or wrongly) of hooliganism, but this wasn’t the same scenario. The outpouring of emotion and grief at this tragedy was heart wrenching and it literally made people ill. I had absolutely no connection with Liverpool Football Club, but I had every connection with the fans as I was one of them. I could have been one of them; a football fan dying on a terrace. This is why the plight of the families directly involved was so enduring in the years that followed.

Tremendously, campaigns were fought and eventually won in helping justice prevail over the circumstances of that particular event, but in the initial aftermath, all fans could do was to pray for common sense and changes so that it might never happen again. It started the slow but sure alteration of how football was perceived and run in this country, which was has been good in many, many ways. It’s fair though to say that in 2015 football has nearly become as elitist sport in the eyes of many, but if part of those changes mean that lives are never lost again at a football match, then maybe that's the right way to go.

I try to detach from the financial side of what football has become, as at the end of the day, I just want to go and watch my local team with my family, whether they are successful or not - but possibly over time football has changed to the degree that the peoples' game has been taken away from many of the people for better or for worse.

I appreciate the highs in football so much because I know that the lows are more frequent, and being a Brighton fan maybe highlights this more than some other clubs! Football for me over the years has gone from being fun and frivolous, to being tense and escapist. That’s fine, because you keep going for the handful of moments that are frankly beyond emotive description.

Even now, aged 39, I still get asked “Why!? Why do you love football – what is it about it that is so good?”

Well I’ll leave the final comment on that, to the broadcaster (and Millwall fan) Danny Baker, who whilst commenting on Manchester City winning the league in literally the last couple of SECONDS of the 2011/12 season, captured the overriding and all too infrequent feeling of all football fans everywhere in one short sound bite :

“Football! F****** football! Imagine not being into it. Those poor, poor half-alive b*******!”

It Was A Woman’s World

When I first started writing blogs (September 2014) I couldn’t really have guessed just how they would be received. Would anyone read them? Would they get some lip service? Would they be genuinely liked? Who knew?

One particular earlyish effort was merely blogged because I was looking forwards to the return of the Sky 1 programme ‘Trollied’ – mainly because I used to work at a supermarket and found it was very close to the mark in its observations! I didn’t for a second think  that it would ultimately become the most popular blog I've written to date!

So on the back of that ‘Getting Trollied Again’ blog, I thought I’d give a further insight into those glorious retail years:

As previous readers will know, I spent the formative years of my employment working in a supermarket.
My first couple of years were enjoyed as a student on the Produce section and checkouts, before moving to working on the Delicatessen counter, initially as a student, but then as a full time member of staff once I’d left Sixth Form and was undecided about what I wanted to do with my life. So many people fall into this route, and I actually really enjoyed it for a long time before finding something outside of retail when I was in my early mid twenties.

A picture of a Deli Counter. Not mine though - I had some staff behind mine

After learning the Deli role inside out for a couple of years, I was fortunate enough to get a promotion to become the new Delicatessen Manager at a store in Brighton, starting just three days after my 21^st birthday.

It’s fair to say that up till that point of my retail career, I’d seen a few things that had opened my naïve innocent young eyes a little, but nothing prepared me for the response I received on my first day in that new role, and indeed the first couple of months.

What could be so wrong?

Well specifically it was three things about me that made some of my new staff not that keen on me at all:

1.       I was introduced to them on the first day as God.

2.       I was young.

3.       I was male.

Being introduced as The Almighty was horrendously embarrassing. I have no idea why my introducer opted to say that, but I think maybe because he had been looking after the counter in the absence of a manager and wanted them to think I was there to ‘save’ them. I REALLY had to underplay that title in the first few weeks to stave off fears of being called arrogant. Talk about a stitch up.

As for ‘being young and male’ – well they both sound ridiculously ancient don’t they!?
But it was a genuine issue as Delicatessen counters traditionally (although not exclusively) had been a rather female dominated environment, and here I was, this boy, taking over the running of their baby and many of them were not at all comfortable with it. To them, I was the Anti Milky-Bar Kid in more ways than one.
Had I not been their manager, and just been joining as an assistant, I doubt it would have irked them so much, but it took a ton of effort to win certain staff over and prove I was worthy.

For example, during that first week I remember cleaning out the bins. I wanted to muck in and do everything and not be some aloof ‘suit’, so I thought this might help somewhat. Nope. The opposite in fact, as this action extremely upset one of the senior ladies as she’d done the bins for the last twelve years, and boy had I now stepped on her toes!

Whilst she was being comforted and consoled by another elder stateswoman (because she WAS in tears), my confidence wasn’t helped by the deliberately loud comment ‘I told them we should have been given a woman manager’

This would take some skill to turn them!

Altogether I had 17 staff initially, which included two male students, three female students, and the rest were females old enough to be my mother or grandmother. It would be wrong though to say that ALL the elder females didn’t want me there. One Scottish lady in particular took to me quite early on and stated that she felt I’d been a bit stitched up, and that even before I’d arrived I was on a hiding to nothing as a colleague of mine at my previous branch had popped in the week before to ‘advise’ them about me. Her assessment being:

‘He’s a nice guy, but he’s not up to being a manager’

...which was ironic given that less than 12 months earlier, I’d had to cover her sorry ass over a Christmas period when she couldn’t cope when acting up as a deputy manager herself. It was a shame to be knifed in the back before I’d even started, but she’d always been a touch bitter, having felt mistreated by the firm over her own career path over the years. I felt sorry for her but why try and hurt me?

All this made me think that perhaps the dislike of me from these people who I felt didn’t know me from Adam, might actually be a bit misplaced through gossip, so I tried not to fret too much about it.

Rather soon, I lost my senior assistant to another department. She had also applied for the Deli Manager’s job and failed to get it, and she wanted some more responsibility. She was fair to me in that she knew it wasn’t my fault, but she wanted to be appreciated and after she helped settle me in, I was happy to help her get a promotion to another role in the store.

Perhaps I didn’t help improve my standing with the others though as when appointing her replacement, I (fairly) opted for the best person, following interviews. As it happened, another male!

The furore that kicked off simply because I’d given the job to a male was unbelievable. It took intervention from the Personnel Manager to sort out the ridiculous complaints (sexism, ageism, experience-ism!) that arose because of it.

After a few weeks had passed, they started speaking to me again...

Time heals, and ultimately as a team, we all contributed to making our Deli the best performing counter in the district, and second best in the region. Given we were bottom of that list before I’d arrived, I was very proud of the work we’d all done.

My reward was to be appointed as the Delicatessen District Trainer for our area, which in turn made our counter the jewel in the area that other Deli Managers came from afar to admire and seek advice from, which thankfully, my lovely staff took immense satisfaction out of and ultimately meant I had earned their respect.

Fair play to some of the stronger critics, as when I reluctantly moved on from the store, they apologised for their preconception of me and offered that I’d actually been a pretty good manager when all was said and done! Praise from them was more important than praise from above, and the best compliment I could pay them back in return was that the two years I spent at that branch were two of the best years of my working life.

Looks like a prison hospital doesn't it!?

Leaving was a huge wrench. A destructive one too, as within a week of working at my new store, I knew I wouldn't be staying long. That was October 1998, and I left the company in May 1999.

Those 8 months were as bad as the previously 24 had been good.

I’d gained promotion on the basis that I completed a pilot assessment centre training course for Managers seeking advancement. I had furthermore been promised to be fast tracked through the full management course as specifically I had management experience under my belt already.. Ideally it wouldn't take anymore than 6 months to get fully qualified and trained up before I’d be given a proper large department of my own to manage.

But literally the week I moved to my new placement, they changed it. Who they were, I’m still not sure, but I got thrown in with a dozen or so university graduates on a post-graduate scheme and no such real opportunity arose for an actual promotion.
Essentially, despite 8 years with the company, starting from joining in 1991 and working 10 hours a week as a school boy to what I’d recently achieved,  I now had to complete a mandatory full year of training – literally I was told I had to relearn how to stock shelves!

Just to rub salt into the wounds, the university grads went straight on to a starting salary that was nearly £6000 higher than me! If it wasn’t for real it would've been hilarious.

I should say that at no time did I blame the grads – It wasn’t their fault at all. Indeed they had a huge amount of sympathy for me being entrapped in this time wasting slavery scheme, and two of them were placed at the same store I was. They were two of the nicest girls I could have hoped to be paired with and they at least made my time at the store much more bearable.

When I resigned, the District Manager offered apologies and said I’d been earmarked to have been a ‘40 yearer’ with the company – the store manager added that in his opinion, the company had failed me ‘criminally’.

It was a sad end to my time in retail really, and prior to October 1998, I couldn’t have envisaged my departing so soon. But all in all the 8 years were mostly pretty good, and watching Trollied on Sky 1 brings back some fab and funny memories.

Would I want to go back to retail though? Well never say never.

But no! NO! NO! NO!

The Top 30 Best Selling UK Singles Part 1

Okay so after a brief hiatus from blogging, I’ll start up again with a bit of music! 

I don’t tend to buy many music magazines these days, having spent years thumbing through NME and MOJO back in the day. However I do tend to have more of a glimpse when they have their latest greatest songs of all time poll results. National newspapers have a crack at it too occasionally, and whilst there are some songs that regularly make the higher echelons of the lists, the variety and current trends always amaze me. Maybe that’s good though, as music should be ever evolving – after all, The Beatles wouldn’t have achieved immortality had they recorded ‘Love Me Do’ songs for ten years. 

I’m never satisfied with the lists when they come out though. For years I’ve craved a poll that truly reflects the greatest songs ever, and the only way I reckon that could be achieved would be to add it as a mandatory question in the National Census: 
Question 15: What is your favourite song?

Only then will it be definitive! 

It’s hard therefore to do a personal review of the greatest songs of all time as it provokes too much doubt and debate as to whether certain songs should be on the list in the first place. 

What IS definitive is a best SELLING singles list. 

To this end where else to go but Wikipedia to view the Top40 Best Selling UK Singles , and have a little play with that list. 
I’ve included double A-sides where they warrant a mention – note to kids: ask a grown up what a double A-side is… 

Strictly speaking blogs shouldn’t be more than 800 words to keep people vaguely interested, so I’ll do this one as a two parter to stop you getting bored, and restrict it to the top 30!

Curiously though, not one of these songs makes my own favourite top ten…

Part 1: 30 – 21

30.  Eye of the Tiger – Survivor

To me this is all about Rocky 3 (my favourite of the franchise I should add) – undoubtedly aided by being associated to the film, I wonder if it would be on this list, had Sly Stallone hung up his gloves after Rocky 2?

29.  Can't Buy Me Love – The Beatles

Unsurprisingly there are a few Beatles entries in this list. I love the Beatles to the n^th degree, but controversially I have to confess CBML is not amongst my favourites. Can't put my finger on why as I can rarely find fault in any of their catalogue.

28.  Three Lions (and 3 Lions ‘98) – Baddiel & Skinner & The Lightning Seeds

Hmm.. not sure the idea of the game is to combine two chart runs of a song that actually each has more than 50% different lyrics. Brilliant record which brings back memories galore of the summer of 1996 – but lucky to make the top 40 on this combined issue.

27.  Perfect Day – Various Artists for Children in Need

I bought the CD single of this primarily to hear the gender specific versions included therein – probably available on YouTube to have a listen to. The original composer Lou Reed (RIP) himself sings on this, so thankfully it wasn’t butchered. Seemed to linger in the charts for ages, and the accompanying video was pretty good too.

26.  I Will Always Love You – Whitney Houston

Talking of lingering in the chart for ages. Poor Whitney (again RIP) gets a bad rap for this on the basis of it being overplayed, and by default of being a Christmas number 1 it has since become a Christmas playlist staple. I liked it in 1992, but a little less as each year goes by.

25.  Don't You Want Me – The Human League

I wonder if lead singer Phil Oakey knew how much this song would eventually be covered by millions due to his long lost cousin Carrie? A definitive 80’s classic though. Even the cover by The Farm wasn’t bad either – plus the video of the latter version featured one Rik Mayall (another RIP)

24.  Blurred Lines – Robin Thicke featuring T.I. and Pharrell Williams

Ah 2013 – the year Pharrell Williams became omnipresent. I shouldn’t really indulge, but the X-rated version of this catchy song is worth a view on YouTube (if you’re an adult) #cough

Even just a year later, where is Robin Thicke now?

23.  Two Tribes – Frankie Goes to Hollywood

Again another song accompanied by an interesting video. Worthy follow up to the other FGTH song that appears higher up this list…

22.  I'll Be Missing You – Puff Daddy featuring Faith Evans

I wonder how well this song would have fared had Diana POW not died. Songs often bring far more comfort in times of pain than we might realise, and this certainly benefitted from a nation in mourning. To be fair the song is a good sampler, as samplers go – and who could fail with that STINGing bassline?

21.  Summer Nights – John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John

I never really got into Grease as a child. I think because my dad didn’t like it much, and therefore nor did we as children. And then you grow up and change your mind! The less said about Grease 2 the better though.

Part 2