Another 5% debate it in advertising magazines, blogs and forums with their mates and draw no conclusion.
90% go "that's cool."
The result: when faced with a choice between equally priced transatlantic flights on either BA, BMI, United Airlines and Virgin Atlantic - more people will opt for a ticket from Virgin Atlantic. They think, if they all cost about the same, I'll go for the one that looks most fun.
We've known for years in this country that the most effective way to relax and unwind is a prolonged bout of drinking topped off with some light violence. It's a proven recipe for success - no debate. Interesting to read this morning though, that the ingredients of our national pastimes are changing.
According to Vinexpo, Britain has become the world's largest importer of wine. In 2007 we shipped in £3.3bn worth of the stuff which takes us past the Germans - not known for their shyness around a drink - and the Americans. On average, 2 bottles of wine make it into the average shopping trolley, of which the pusher is a mother with two kids.
Arguably, our drinking tastes across the demographic board are getting more sophisticated. Perhaps the aspirational ideal promised by Kerry Katona serving up a glass of three quid chardonnay alongside her Iceland prawn ring is permeating some skulls. Perhaps there's a bank of plumbers, electricians and builders turning into Keith Floyds when they're off duty.
Alternatively - not. There are plenty of reasons but one of micro economics is worth considering. In 2008, we drank 1 million less pints than we did in 2007. Pubs are shutting at a rate of 5 a day. This year, more beer will be sold in supermarkets than in pubs. Mum is pushing the trolley, loading the car up and carrying it home. It's tempting for her to 'forget' Keith's shopping request for a crate of lager, and replace it for roughly the same price, with a couple of bottles of wine that he can drink with her instead.
When it comes to drinking we're an adaptable bunch. We'll drink anything. Perhaps we'll see a rise in domestic violence as the 'at home' recessionary trends continue.
Christine Gilbert is the Chief Inspector Of Schools here in the UK.
It's her job to make sure we're knocking out an elite force of
call centre drones and mindless vandals. There's only so much she can do. If a kid goes home each night for fish fingers, Lambert &
Butler and a twatting rather than his homework, well there's
undoubtedly a knock on effect in the classroom.
Today she came out and said something simple - something obvious - at the risk of sounding, well, a bit simple. According to The Guardian,
Ofsted is to launch a crackdown on "boring teaching." If teachers are
dull, kids get bored and they don't learn anything.
It's clearly not the answer to everything as Mrs 4 Fuks Saké - a secondary school teacher - will be keen to remind me. But actually looking forward to school because it's interesting, stimulating and exciting? Start with a teacher who lights up the classroom and the kids' minds open up. They go home, they tell their parents what they learnt at school that day because they had fun, and it sinks in.
As those of us in the PR and comms industries will recognise - many a
career has been built on hot air. Use long words, hide behind research,
write 300 page reports that take months to write and with a following
wind you can become an expert. At all times - avoid stating the simple and
obvious. It makes you look simple - even if it's right and useful.
But being simple and obvious works.
Ideas work when they're simple. Ideas work when you want to share them. Ideas work when you don't have to explain them. The ideas that fly, are the ones we go home at night and tell our other halves about. It's the husband, wife, BF/GF, your Mum or your dog who is the ultimate creative director. If you don't want to share your ideas with your other half - you've got no chance with the ultimate punter.
I thank Christine Gilbert for the reminder (albeit obliquely).
Stephen Fry recently suggested that darts was perhaps the most exciting, almost perfect of sports. From the moment the MC yells "Game On," every dart is crucial. Not a single second is wasted. There is no ebb and flow, no break for a throw in, a substitution, or a quiet passage of play. There's lights, sweat, tension and a roar. Skill, mental strength, anguish and ecstacy every 2 minutes or so. It's fat blokes throwing tungsten at a mat some argue. Simon Barnes in The Times does greater justice to the players.
"The art of darts is in perfect stillness of everything save the forearm of the
throwing arm: the big frame, anchored to the ground by adipose tissue, makes
this possible on a consistent, endlessly repeatable basis. Watch Phil
Taylor. When he throws a dart, nothing moves but his right forearm and an
eyebrow....It is the pursuit of excellence."
It's all of course set against a soundtrack of Sid Waddell, calling the game and dropping references to Wittgenstein, Alexander of Macedonia and Galileo.