71. AMAZING!

I pressed the key to post my piece, “Disappointment” last week and thought to myself,

“That’s it.  I’ve nothing more to say.  I lead a dull and dreary life.   I’m not likely to experience anything interesting, let alone anything worth writing about for a few months or so but maybe I’ll have a memorable Christmas and I can write about that.”

Then along came X Factor!

Caroline and I got back from eating out at half past nine on Saturday evening.  Caroline went straight upstairs to catch up on lesson preparation and I was left alone to flick through the television channels. 

As I came across X Factor I heard one of the judges, who was speaking about one of the performers, use the word “AMAZING” three times in one breath.  I was going to write that it was three times in one sentence but she doesn’t really speak in sentences.

I was so intrigued that this morning, with nothing at all useful or constructive to do^{*(see below)}, I found the programme on ‘Catch up TV on demand’ and played it through.  I fast-forwarded through the acts and listened only to the judges’ comments.  I kept a tally of the use of the word “AMAZING”.

The result was AMAZING.  It was a programme lasting 1 hour 56 minutes.  Take out the time used up by the introduction, the post performance interviews and 16 acts and you can work out that the time that the judges spent talking about the presentations was approximately 25 minutes.

Ready for the bombshell?

Between them, the four judges managed to say the word “AMAZING” 26 times in 25 minutes.  That is a rate of 1.04 “AMAZINGS per minute” (a.p.m.).  I believe that could be a world record.  1.04 a.p.m. over a sustained period will take some beating! 

They were in fantastic form right from the start.  They finished their comments on the first singer at a sprint and had reached 7 a.p.m. in the first 50 seconds until the American judge, who obviously had not completely understood the Judges’ Code of Conduct, cocked it all up by failing to say “AMAZING” even once but they completed their comments on the first female singer with a rating of 4 a.p.m.

With hindsight the comments on the first singer were fairly poignant as she was discarded the following evening while competitors who had barely rated 0.7 a.p.m. were kept in.

Kelly Rowland, the American, made up for her rather broader, more flexible and imaginative vocabulary than the other three judges to some extent by calling the singer, “Baby Girl”, an epithet she was to employ twice more in the course of the evening.

After 20 minutes of the show the count had reached 6 a.p.m. and things were looking good.  Then Gary Barlow, who could possibly still benefit from losing a few more pounds, found the pace too swift and faded badly. 

Not so Louis Walsh.  He was in sparkling form and halfway through the show he appeared to have built up an unassailable lead, with six AMAZINGS ahead of Tulisa who was on four.

But I strongly fancied Tulisa.  She is much younger and has considerably more staying power than Louis who was giving away good looks and more than 35 years in age to her.

I was right.  She stormed through and won at a canter with an individual a.p.m. of 1.76 – a personal best I believe.

This was the final tally:

JUDGE	AMAZINGS
Louis Walsh	8
Tulisa	11
Kelly Rowland	3
Gary Barlow	4

I think that performance was very good.  But more than that - it was also astounding, remarkable and almost astonishing.  It was mind-blowing, just about incredible and certainly miraculous.  It was wonderful but most of all it was truly AMAZING.

That was more of a fantastic performance than you can possibly imagine because these were comments on all 16 acts.  In six to eight weeks time, when the rubbish has been voted off and only those with true talent remain, I can only guess at the sort of rates they may achieve.

When it comes to the Final Night, Tulisa will just sit there repeating the word “AMAZING” over and over again.  It’s going to be *******.

^*Apparently there are loads of things I could have done.

October 25^th                        I watched it again tonight on 'Catch up TV'.   Tulisa is still streaking ahead.  She really is the Frankel of the judging world.  Her skin is almost the same colour as his winter coat.

October 30^th                        What’s going on?  Only four usages of “AMAZING” this week.  Perhaps Kelly’s absence disconcerted them or maybe they are saving themselves for a big flourish soon.  Her stand-in was hopeless.  Tulisa’s getting browner but the a.p.m. is sliding alarmingly.

November 6^th                        A pretty lacklustre performance all round.  I’m becoming more interested in Tulisa’s pronunciation of “world” as “welled” and “girl” as “gell”.

November 13^th                        The a.p.m. was 1.04 at the end of week 1.  It has dropped steadily, week by week.  There was a slight revival this week led, of course by Tulisa and Louis but I really don’t think that the other two are entering into the spirit of the occasion.

November 20^th                        The fight back begins!  It was led of course by Tulisa.  It was a staggering performance this week from the nonpareil of the cliché.  Kelly seems to have given up altogether with an overall a.p.m. of 0.21 over the 7 weeks but Tulisa’s a.p.m. is now at 1.33. 

November 27^th                        The overall average of a.p.m. dropped this week and I think that the reason is fairly obvious:  three of the judges have more or less given up.  Tulisa wins for the eighth week in a row.  She’s unstoppable!

December 3^rd                        They were all very subdued this week.  Tulisa’s lead was so immense before the start of the latest round that the others all seemed rather downcast and restrained.  Gary won but it was a hollow victory because with a remarkable series a.p.m. of 1.20, Tulisa is in a class of her own.

Overall Series Result

	AMAZINGS per minute
Louis Walsh	0.45
Tulisa	1.20
Kelly Rowland	0.28
Gary Barlow	0.43

70. Disappointment

To be disappointed, your expectations have to be thwarted and until a few days ago I don’t think I had ever been disappointed.  Sometimes, of course, things haven’t turned out as I had been hoping.  

I suppose that when Norwich City Football Club, a 3rd Division South side, lost to Luton Town in the FA Cup semi-final of 1959, it was a disappointment but really it was more of an anti-climax after the wonderful run they had enjoyed up until that point.  Of course I was saddened, but that wasn’t real disappointment as I had never expected Norwich to win.  I just hoped that they would.

I thought that the general election result of 1979 was regrettable, but its inevitability prevented it from being a disappointment. 

I have just been watching England play against Scotland in the Rugby Union World Cup.  England played appallingly.  I can’t say that I’m disappointed because England have been awful for the last three games and I wasn't expecting anything better but I am certainly frustrated and dissatisfied. 

Last Tuesday I had my last golf lesson.  I shall have no more.  It’s not that I no longer need them, far from it.  The sad fact is that I have gained nothing from those lessons.  I realised on Tuesday that after six lessons I am worse than I was before the first one and I have made no progress at all.

I am genuinely disappointed.  Six weeks ago, I told you in ‘Bon Mots’ that I had visions of playing golf regularly and often over the coming years.  I expected to.  It would give me something enjoyable to do with my copious leisure time but alas it is not to be.  I wrote that, “I am not quite hopeless but I’m certainly bad.”  That is not the case anymore.  I am definitely hopeless and I am consequently, for the first time in my life, genuinely disappointed about something.

However, I am much better off than Sophie who was only 12 years old when in 2004, she experienced deep, scarring disappointment.

Sophie was a pupil at Fortismere School and one of my students.  Her parents are from Cyprus and her grandparents still lived there.  Sophie told me that they owned and ran a family restaurant in Paphos.

Caroline’s parents own a house in Paphos and before moving to live in the Cayman Islands, Caroline and I would go to stay in their house during August when the temperatures were highest and her parents sought refuge in the cooler climes of England.

One morning in August 2004 when the temperature had reached 39°C (102°F) and it was too hot to do anything outside, I sat under the air conditioning unit inside the house, with the Paphos edition of Yellow Pages on my lap and looked for the restaurant.  I thought I found it and later that evening we went there to have dinner and discovered that it was indeed the right place.  

When I told the who I was, Sophie’s grandparents were absolutely overjoyed to meet us and they made a huge fuss, plying us with unlimited amounts of food, wine and Filfar – a Cypriot liqueur made from oranges.  By the end of the evening, we were well and truly filfared.

They told us that Sophie and her parents had moved up into the Troodos mountains to escape the heat, but they would all be back on Sunday for Grandpa’s birthday party.  

He was to be 80 and we had to come too.   It was a lunch party that would start at around eleven in the morning.  They insisted that we came and told us how surprised and delighted Sophie would be to meet her teacher.

I wasn’t so sure about that but it would have been rude and even churlish not to say “yes” to the invitation and so accept it, we did.

We didn’t want to arrive too early and so we turned up at noon.  I parked the jeep and we went in through a gate in the middle of a long wall that ran along the side of the courtyard.  Directly opposite us and at the end of a ten-metre path was a long series of tables with about 60 people in total sitting along both sides.  Facing us, with two empty seats in front of her, was Sophie.

Grandpa saw us and let out a welcoming yell.  60 people looked at us and started applauding.  I was very embarrassed.  I gave Sophie a little wave and smiled at her.

Sophie certainly looked surprised but not at all delighted.  She nodded towards me and gave me a sort of half smile.  Caroline and I took our seats opposite Sophie and her parents and for the next seven hours or so we had a wonderful time.

It was just getting dark when I found myself talking to Sophie alone for the first time since we arrived.

“What did you think when you saw me come through the gate and walk down the path?” I asked her.

“I was surprised but a bit disappointed,” she said.  “They told me to sit there in that seat and keep an eye on the gate and I’d get a nice surprise.  So I did and then you came in.”

“Oh, I see.  I’m sorry.  I wouldn’t have come if I thought you’d be upset.”

“Oh no, that wasn’t the reason,” she said, before adding wistfully, 

“I thought I was going to get a donkey.”

Now that is a degree of disappointment that neither you nor I can imagine.