Jamboree Bags

When I was a kid I used to buy something called a Jamboree Bag with my pocket money. They cost just a few pence, old money, pre-decimalisation. You knew you’d always get a bunch of sweets and a cheap tacky toy, but you never knew exactly what, and that was part of the attraction. Whatever the contents, though, it never put you off buying another one the following week.

Celebrity Big Brother is a bit like a Jamboree Bag. You know you’ll get a bunch of (so-called) celebrities, including some (perhaps many) that you’ve never heard of, but you never know quite what you’ll get. No matter what the mix, though, it never puts you off watching the next series. The bunch that Channel 5 have pulled together for the latest series must be the worst bunch of maladjusted individuals ever to grace the house. Few of them seem able to go more than 24 hours without running to the diary room and wailing that they want to go home, and these people are paid extremely well just for turning up. None of them, surely, will come out of the process looking good. None of them come across as being close to normal. Maybe it’s time Celebrity Big Brother went the way of the Jamboree Bag.

I start a new contract tomorrow, another six-month contract as a Scrum Master. In a way, contracts are like Jamboree Bags, too: you know vaguely what to expect, but you never know exactly what you’re going to get. Like opening a Jamboree Bag, like a Celebrity Big Brother launch episode, it’s quite exciting.

Wish me luck.

Comments are closed.