Justin Bieber and me

He's been in the headlines a bit this week - one newspaper described it as 'Bieber's week from hell'. Firstly there was the late-showing for a London gig (described by press and tv as two hours, but by JB himself on Twitter as forty minutes) and latterly there was a dust-up with a pap. A week from hell indeed. Forty minutes is a lot in the context of a kid school-night concert, but we've all experienced worse. And there are photographers who, let's say, take things too far.

I don't expect 35, 613, 016 (the amount of Twitter followers he has at time of writing - it'll go up) more followers having written about him here, but he sells papers and ad space. The Beliebers will hunt you down if there's anything negative around too. But instead, it's a mini defence of him. I have a daughter who is quite the fan. The pic indeed is a life-size cut-out, obtained from eBay, while she has of late net him at a book-signing and seen him live in Liverpool.

I won't go into who I was a fan of at her age, partly because you may not have heard of Showaddywaddy, will raise an eyebrow when I say Abba, and won't believe me if I say early punk. But that's all it is, kids being fans. The hatred I don't get - I'm not a particular fan of his music (honest) and my daughter is not twisting my arm to write this. But the press (and ITV, who seem a tad obsessed) should back down. He has an extraordinary amount of Twitter followers, sells a ton of CDs and downloaded music, sells out Madison Square Garden in seconds and is loved by millions if teenagers all over the world. Yet all we've had is late for a gig and losing his temper with a photographer.