Listen up, here’s my advice...

SOME years ago, I knew a commercial manager in non-league football who did all his business by nagging so badly that people would sign a cheque just to get rid of him.

But he eventually ran out of firms to pester as no-one would see him a second time.

I bring up this apparently useless piece of information because I feel the Government is using the same tactics — and will encounter the same level of success.

Every time I turn on my car radio I get a message warning me about some health issue. And after hearing the same message 50 times in a week you get fed-up with it.

On Radio 4 the other morning, I heard a posh lady demanding that the Government spend more on school dinners.

Her argument was that it was only through school meals that the Government could influence children’s eating habits.

I’m all for healthy eating, but have you ever tried to force children to eat something they don’t want?

I used to think that my children would do as they were told, but it didn’t work with them, just as it didn’t work with me. My lads were told they needed to eat healthily, just as I was told there were starving millions who wanted my cabbage.

There’s no point re-hashing the stuff for their next meal, because they would just refuse again and after three weeks would die of hunger.

And I have to admit that if anyone had forced a school dinner down me in 1968 I would have been sick on the spot.

The posh lady seemed to look back on school dinners of old as a golden age. But I’d have to disagree.

When I was at junior school, 40 years ago, most people poured the inedible slop straight into the bin.

At Hyde Grammar School, lads generally got their sustenance at Peggy’s shop. For them, five-a-day meant penny chews rather than fruit and veg.

But it’s not just food. Why do the powers that be think we will all start to love each other if we are forced to endure endless folk dancing, face-painting and art exhibitions?

You get to the point where you switch-off as soon as certain words are mentioned.

As a child, I was constantly compared with David Bloggs at school who apparently happily ran errands for his mother, did well at maths and was generally content with much less in life than I had.

So I just focused on the television and ignored what was being said.