Just when I'm harumphing about the precious posh kids 'slumming it' in a huge country house with fantastic views, along comes Jenny Agutter's surprise birthday do, the presents for Bernard Cribbins and 'the daddy my daddy' finale - and I confess some dust causes watery irritation in my eyes.

The occasion for me was many years ago. Sitting in a bar having a beer or three with some mates, and the background music song that came on was Gladys Knight & the Pips - Try to remember, the way we were. One friend noticed the that I had something in my eye! As eighteen year old students that was clearly both inconvenient and inappropriate.

1. Watching the Anvil movie. The bit where they go on stage at the Japanese rock festival and there are slightly more people in the audience than they had expected. Lump in the throat moment, no real tears, just a very deep manly sniff.

2. Watching Sigur Ros' film Heima. Such a powerful sense of place, purpose and people in their Icelandic homecoming tour, I wept like a baby.

I am forty one and three quarter years old and I am not in the least bit embarrassed.

tearjerking moment was also a Christmas guilty pleasure - Noel's Christmas Presents. I generally hate the Tidybeard finding him creepy as hell but somehow that manipulative programme gets to my cynical heart. there is always usually one that pushes me over the edge. And not at any other time of year does this sort of programme move me in the slightest

The one I remember reducing me to a puddle was years ago when a granny wanted to get a message to her grandson who was spending his first Xmas away from home serving in the navy. Noel took her to see someone at the navy who said he couldn't help, but passed her on to an Admiral and the trail eventually led to John Major at No.10. Although I could see it coming a mile off, the moment where John Major said 'Well I can't help but here's someone who can' and her grandson walked through the door, I just went.

I'm not proud of it cos its all created to get just that reaction but I'm such a sap for it every year.

during Up. If you've seen it, you'll know what bits. I often go at Fairytale of New York - the bit where Shane sings about keeping her dreams with his. I well up at the drop of a hat as I slip into my mid 40's.

seems to make me cry these days, Deal or No deal got me this week. Gary Barlow handing out nets to Ugandan's at the weekend and no doubt an end of year type thing with Leona Lewis singing "Run" over the top will bring on floods tonight.

...every time it's on:

The last two and half minutes of this gets me every time...

a piece on BBC News 24 I stumbled over last night of a British POW's experiences of Auschwitz. He swapped places with a Jewish inmate to go into the camp proper whilst the Jewish man got a proper meal and medical treatment before swapping back.

the POW, Denis, also befriended another German Jew, Ernst, whose sister had escaped to England and offered to contact her for him. As a result Denis was able to smuggle Ernst packets of cigarettes the sister had sent to the POW.

Denis thought, unsurprisingly, that Ernst had met the fate of most in Auschwitz but the programme makers discovered that he had survived, in part due to the shoes that the cigarettes bought him that helped Ernst survive the death marches. He went on to have a long life n family, dying in 2001, aged 72

All this was relayed to Denis and he met the Ernst's sister who he had written to. She bought along a video that Ernst had made for the Shoah foundation in which he mentions Denis, who he only knew as Ginger, and that his kindness no doubrt saved Ernst's life.

as always with such terrible tales of human suffering it is the little personal stories which hit home - I was in floods.

More detals here

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/8433968.stm