Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Body Mass Index

There are plenty of websites which will calculate your BMI for you, but I haven't found one which warns you to be sure to use your current height, and not the height you remember being when you were young. Most of us are aware that we tend to shrink as we get older, but I got a nasty shock when I found I had dropped from 5'6" to 5'4". This has a considerable effect on the calculation, and can make the difference between being in the safe range and being outside it.

I found this out when I went for my annual check-up last year at the Heart and Stroke Clinic run by my GP Practice. This year a new dimension has been added - and boy! do I mean 'dimension'? The nurse not only measured my height and weight, but my waistline as well, with a tape measure tastefully divided into different colour sections for different degrees of risk. I already knew that I was overweight, and I didn't want to be told also that I needed to lose three inches off my waist! But weight around the waist is weight on the heart, it seems.

So, after Christmas, I have to do something about this, if I want to carry on blogging for as long as I have something to say. Which reminds me, I discussed with a mate the possibility of writing my own valedictory blog, saving it in Draft, and giving him my password so he could post it for me when the time comes. Cute idea don't you think?!

Oh yes - the good news is that my cholesterol level is down to an unprecedented 3.8!

Friday, December 02, 2005

Jake Thackray rewritten

The crowning glory of my birthday, however, was Keiwit’s offering of a rewrite of one of my favourite Jake Thackray songs, The Lodger. It was a saucy song in its time - (you will find the original lyrics here: http://www.jakethackray.co.uk/content/view/121/26/) and is admirably suited to Keiwit’s interpretation, in which he most accurately conveys my message. If you can possibly find yourself a recording of the song to listen to, I recommend that you do so, as it will help you to appreciate Keiwit’s talent as a parodist. If you follow the link on the left of the page for The Jake Thackray Website, you will find a discography.

Judith's Ideal

My neighbours’ sons were so tall and strapping
They used to play outside my house each day
They used to come even while I was napping
But I’d never tell those boys to go away
There was Billy: he was silly
There was Robbie: t’was his hobby to be critical about my fashion sense
There was Brian: he would try and be so blokey but provoked me
What a joke he had no courteous intents

But they grew up: they reached a new maturity
I saw possibilities of having fun
I’d endured a life of boring purity
So I promised I’d not turn down anyone
And sure enough, they called my bluff
When I was chilly, little Billy
He saw me huddled, so we cuddled for a while
He was sweet: but not discreet – his wand’ring hands, had other plans
He made demands but that is really not my style

"Billy, go away! Don’t make a pass"
"Now, Billy" I must say, "Take your hands off my arse"
"Stay off me henceforth, you must be made to see"
"You must go further north – to engage me!"

Well, after all, I'm still young and rather pretty
And I have time to choose my perfect man
So preferably I'd go for someone witty
And I’d never just go out with what I can
I’m not snobby but then Robbie
Tried his luck, the little schmuck
But his lids they never did stray from my chest
I did advise him to my eyes, but he declined quite unrefined
So I untwined and made a citizen’s arrest

"Robbie, go away! Robbie you’re a pest"
"Now, Robbie," I must say, "I’m really not impressed"
"It seems once again, I’ve picked the wrong boy"
"You must use my brain – I’m not a toy"

I felt quite down, and worried for the future
I thought there would be no one there for me
I might not ever use my Kama Sutra
But then came Brian my lucky number three
He was perplexing, never vexing
Quite engaging, hormones raging
Intellect he could collect me any time
And it was good, he understood, with that fine man, a love began
Because he can share my great passion for a rhyme

"Brian, come to bed! I won’t ask you twice"
"Now Brian look," I said, "I can be very nice"
"I'll do what you like, I think we connect"
"That’s because you’ve shown me proper respect"

[© Keiwit -November 2005]

I was so touched by this tribute that I had tears running down my face as I shut down my computer and went to bed that night.

Birthday badinage


November 29th was my 78th birthday. I don’t usually make much of birthdays, but this one was remarkable for an unexpected outbreak of versifying in my honour. To set the scene I should explain that it happened in an online discussion forum to which I belong, and where, because it is a small group, most of whom know each other personally, a fair degree of outspoken banter and badinage is current. I should also mention that an entirely erroneous myth has grown up in this forum that my mind is set on acquiring a toyboy! Keith D opened the greetings with:

Happy birthday Jude.
At seventy-eight
I’ve gotta say, dude,
That you’re looking great.

But then he added the following, occasioned by a remark of mine that ‘Callipygea’ would make a nice pseudonym. (It seems ‘callipygean’ means ‘having beautifully proportioned buttocks’):

Of things callipygean
you’ve more than a smidgeon
but no one could say you were plump.
Could it be that your gluteus
is really quite beauteous
or do you just have a nice rump?

Further comments and conjectures relating to my rump ensued, until I observed rather sharply that a change of topic was called for, particularly as my rear end is nothing to write home about - (or as Keith said "Judith’s bum is just ho-hum"). Later I apologised for being peevish, and Keith produced the following (loosely based on Elvis’s ‘Trouble’):

Woke up this morning
I was seventy-eight
Had to see the cardiologist
Had a lot on my plate
Had to take a lot of comments
About my rear
And you still expect me to grin from ear to ear

Well, I'm peevish.
Acerbity's my middle name
Oh yes, I'm peevish
But so far I've been pretty tame

Just one more allusion
To my backside
And I'll raise a contusion -
Take weeks to subside
You may think that I'm easy
'Cos I'm getting old
But I can tell you things, boy, you ain't never been told

Because I'm peevish
And I'm starting to lose my cool
Oh yes, I'm peevish
So don't mess around with me, you fool.

Wanna make me happy?
Then praise my tits
And maybe my legs
But no other bits
And the jokes about toyboys
Just get on my wick
Make me feel like clouting you with my broomstick

Oh yes, I'm peevish
'Cos you're all picking on little Jude
You better stop now
Or we'll have a reg'lar old feud.

[To be continued tomorrow]