Diary of an urban Grandad

WHEN I sit down to write these columns, usually with a fevered brow, a hot cup of tea to hand and a stack of biscuits alongside, waiting to ease the tension, I never know who is going to read them.

The columns that is, not the biscuits. No one is going to read those. Unless they’re Nice biscuits. I always read those ones just before consumption.

Sweet, simple, elegant. Makes me wonder who the marketing consultant was who came up with the name. Can just see the planning meeting before product launch. “We’re going to sell some biscuits and after eating a few samples, I’ve come up with the perfect name to describe them. Henceforth they shall be known as Nice biscuits. To make things easy, we will even write their name on them, too. In big letters. Nice big letters.” Complete genius. Definitely earned their consultancy fees there. But I digress.

Point is, these modest columns may just have a wider audience reach than intended. Let me explain. Regular readers may remember that recently I decided 2020 was the year when I was not going to make any resolutions. Not even tiny ones. No, sirree.

Instead I was just going to lay myself open to the universe by trying more new things than usual.

Turns out, Sir Richard Branson has recently said exactly the same thing. That’s right. The Virgin meister, publicity stunt king and great bearded capitalist himself has been copying my ideas.

Makes me think he must be a regular reader of these pages. Can’t think how he does it. Maybe he gets someone to fly out to his private island in the sun with a weekend copy of the Bristol Post tucked away in their hand luggage. There’s a thought.

Now before you get all cynical and unbelieving, the way Mrs Cullimore did when I told her, thinking that this is all just some simple coincidence and nothing whatsoever to do with my wise words, let me tell you right here and now that I saw it online and everything. Used my exact words, he did. So it must be true. Really it must. Honest.

All of which leads me to deduce, obviously, that since the great bearded one must be an avid reader of my wise words, maybe I should try to reach out to him, offer him some hints and tips on living. Hmm. That might be a bit of a challenge.

So, just in case he is reading this very column, let me be the first to say that my approach to new things has recently taken a turn to the wild side. The wild side of internet shopping, that is.

So if Sir Dicky fancies doing a bit of a sponsorship deal, it would be much appreciated. Especially if it involves sending some cold, hard cash my way.

After all, this is the time of year when many of us, including myself, find ourselves going on a bit of an enforced financial diet. That’s the trouble with having a lovely Christmas – at some point you have to pay for it. Sigh. But I digress, again.

Point is, among all the bills and money madness of January, I find myself spending time staring at adverts. Particularly those online ads that pop up and catch your eye when you’re busy trying to do something else.

First time I really noticed one of these adverts was a while back when it came up with a sort of special pillow. Strange-looking thing it was, but guaranteed to give you a great night’s sleep. Apparently.

Which was interesting, since my nights have been rather disturbed recently, mainly by thoughts of bankruptcy and empty wallets.

So in an unexpected and probably unwise move, the next time this advert popped up on my screen, I went ahead and bought one of these so-called special pillows.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and a tiny package arrived. Turned out to be my pillow. Just when I thought I had accidentally bought one suitable for a doll’s house, I realised it was vacuum packed. So I opened it and jumped back as it sprang into being. Fully life-size.

Long story short, it looks weird but definitely does the job. I have been sleeping like the proverbial baby ever since my head hit it.

All of which proves that trying new things is definitely the way to go in 2020 for me.

Talking of which, another advert has just popped up on my laptop, for a space age toothbrush. Looks perfect. Now all I need to do is persuade Sir Richard to send some cold, hard cash this way. I could always do him a trade. Wonder if he likes Nice biscuits?

❝

In an unexpected and probably unwise move, the next time this advert popped up on my screen, I went and ahead bought one of these so-called special pillows