Maggie May, Rachel won't, Pam's too fat

This has been a tough old week in late thirty-something households the length and breadth of Britain.

For the husbands, anyway. Late thirty-something wives have had a field day. Certainly there's been a gloomy atmosphere of stunned shock in our house.

Along with the sound of scarcely muffled tee hee hees...

Let me explain. Let me take you back in time. Back to when we were young and daft. To the days when Rod Stewart was an idol. Rod the Mod, the original lad's lad, the rocker who rolled over a thousand hearts, who had the world's most beautiful women crying their eyes out as he dumped them for a newer, blonder, model.

Rod, who looked like you and me, just an ordinary down-to-earth, ugly little bloke with hair suspiciously bordering on the ginger. Pulling everything in sight.

And if he could do it, so could we. Which is why there were thousands of Rodalikes all over the country every Friday night. Dressed in Rod-style suits with preposterously large-collared open neck shirts spread out wide and proud over our lapels. All with hair spiked up by sugar and water concoctions applied by our more cosmetically knowledgeable sisters.

Standing on the edge of the dance floor posing away and trying to stand in profile so our noses looked bigger...

It didn't always work, of course. In fact it hardly ever worked. And on the pathetically few occasions we did pull we would ruin it by being horrible to whatever short-sighted girl had been daft enough to fall for the act.

But it didn't matter. If she flounced off, tossing her hair and saying "who do you think you are, Rod Stewart?" over her shoulder, well, what the hell?

She thought I looked like Rod Stewart, you'd tell your mates. She was mad about me but I had to get rid of her didn't I. She didn't have blonde hair, did she?

And Rod wouldn't be tied down after all...

And now back to the future. To the Sunday papers. And the fact that Rod Stewart has been dumped. By a woman. By his young and beautiful blonde wife, Rachel Hunter. For being too old and boring.

Rod dumped! How can this be?

It doesn't happen. And if Rod is old and boring, then what about us?

This means our youth is over. Official.

Tee hee hee comes the sound from the corner.

The sound of a thousand women enjoying the taste of revenge. Tee hee hee.

"Hey," my wife says. "How do you think she told him?" I don't know, I grump. "Well, she probably just rolled over and said, hey Rod, you know, the morning sun when it's in your face really shows your age."

Tee hee hee...

And just when you think it can't get any worse, it does. There are those of us Rodalikes who have been in love with the actress Pamela Stephenson since first catching sight of her implausibly naked in Virgin Soldiers back in the early Seventies (we had to wait until it came on telly, being too young to get into the pictures to see an X-rated film).

Pam's been consistently sexy, witty, blonde and large-breasted ever since.

Even Rod would have been impressed.

And then what happens. Monday's papers show the latest exclusive telephoto lens shot of Pamela Stephenson on a beach.

She's the size of a house.

So big her swimsuit has been designed by Montgolfier Brothers.

So big the tide can't come in.

This can't be. Not Pam as well. She can't have lost her looks.

Just like Rod can't have been dumped. Time hasn't passed that fast. Surely!

In the corner there is the sound of more tee hee hees...

13/01/99

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.