THERE is a famous Fawlty Towers sketch in which an irritable guest complains about the view from her hotel window. I forget the precise words but Basil Fawlty asks through gritted teeth: "What did you expect from a Torquay guesthouse - the Eiffel Tower?".

I must admit to suffering similar rage when people criticise the appearance of parts of the Teesside landscape. I'm not talking about avoidable mess like graffiti or litter, but features like the chrome of the chemical plants or the blast furnace of the former British Steel.

Complaining about the industrial heritage of Middlesbrough is a bit like a townie moving to the country and complaining about hens clucking - it comes with the territory.

The Tees Valley gave railways to the world; we provided the steel that was the backbone of the industrial revolution.

When the good people of Gloucestershire, East Anglia and other farming areas ponder the worth of Teesside, let them remember that without the fertiliser produced here they wouldn't have a crop to harvest.

And, in the depths of winter, perhaps motorists will offer a prayer to the people of this area who mine and distribute the salt that keeps our roads in use and householders thank the power workers who keep the lights burning.

I explained all this recently to a Southerner at a conference in London who had inquired: "Where is Middlesbrough?" I pointed out it was the birthplace of the steel that built the building we were in.

"Point taken", he responded with a smile. Hopefully he will remember and educate his colleagues.

IT always baffles me as to why people will spend hours looking after the belongings they value yet neglect the most important thing. Home, garden and car have attention lavished upon them - probably because the owners realise they will sell them one day so it's money in the bank.

Yet some of these same people do little to keep themselves in good condition. Cigarettes, booze, fatty foods are all welcome - don't worry because when the body packs in the State will help you out.

As if the NHS doesn't have enough real emergencies on its hands without having to deal with people who cannot be bothered to look after themselves.

Well, it appears the medical profession is fighting back if the experience of an acquaintance of mine is anything to go by. He's just 38, weighs 21 stone and was recently referred to a dietician at a local hospital.

Stepping on the scales he quipped: "Let's see if they can take my weight." But instead of a friendly response, he was shocked as the medic sternly told him: "This is nothing to joke about."

The dietician decided the direct approach was best and proceeded to tell him that if he didn't change his ways he would suffer a major trauma within ten years. She also told him not to bother thinking up excuses if he didn't come back in 28 days. It would be because he had either "lost his bottle" or "failed to follow the diet."

Perhaps in telling me this tale my pal was looking for sympathy. Instead, I gave him a third reason why he might not make the next weigh-in - he could be dead.

Published: 22/11/2002