You might think, as a seasoned broadcaster with over thirty years experience, that giving a presentation about my life and times to my daughter’s Year 8 group would be a piece of cake. Wrong! I had prepared my thirty minute dissertation, largely in my head, and before committing it to note form I ran through my ideas with Alison, my extremely able and well-thought-of teacher/wife. Very rapidly she quashed most of my ideas, or at least my delivery of them. The trouble is, when you talk about “The Irish Troubles”, or “going to Cranwell”, or “Trooping the Colour” to an adult audience these things need no explanation. To a group of thirteen year olds most of it would fly straight over their heads and I would have lost them within five minutes. Alison was brilliant at showing me how to precis, amend and edit so that my life experiences would be interesting and understandable to my young audience. Of course the whole thing was made more stressful by the fact that I couldn’t just stand up in front of them in a classroom and interact, I had to do it on Teams, which I’ve never used before and is dependant on good wifi and certain technical skills; in my case, sadly lacking. Also, should I use a Powerpoint presentation? I’ve never done that either, but maybe it would add to the interest? In the end I remembered the old acronym from my Radio Journalism Diploma course, KISS: Keep It Simple Stupid. So I did and hopefully the end result was reasonably entertaining. The advantage of Teams is that I couldn’t see the children falling asleep or hear any snoring.
Normally for after-dinner speeches I charge about £750, but this one was done out of the kindness of my heart. Would a brief “thank you” note from the master in charge not have been appropriate? Three days later I am still waiting. That’s probably the best life lesson the children could take from the whole thing. You can never go wrong if you write a card or letter to thank someone who’s done something for you, whatever if may be, preferably a hand-written one, but email is better than nothing. A frequent response from my children when I encourage them in the art of good manners and other life skills is “we don’t do it like that now” or “none of my friends do that”. If only I could persuade them that if you want to get on in life it’s better to go the extra mile, stand out from the crowd, be exceptional and people that matter will notice you. I always remember an early tip from my father. If you’re not sure what to wear, err on the side of formality. You can always dress down, take a jacket or tie off, but it’s very hard to dress up. The bread and butter thank you letter takes a few seconds to write, but can mean so much to the recipient. Its absence can have the opposite effect!
We’ve just had Alison’s Year 11 girls in for a picnic lunch in the garden. It’s the first time they’ve all been together since Lockdown. They started sitting down nearly two metres apart, but by the time they left they were in each other’s pockets. Any thought that schools can re-start with pupils maintaining social distancing is pie in the sky. Nonetheless, let’s do it. People keep talking about “it’s not safe”. It’s not safe to cross the road or ride a bike or canoe in wild water or ski off-piste or jump out of aeroplanes or play rugby or just get up in the morning; but we do it. The multitude of mental, physical, financial, business and social issues that we are accumulating far, far away the threat from Covid, in my humble opinion. Bojo and DomCu are starting to look Boo Boo and Cock-up. The number of U turns they’re making would’ve given Mrs T apoplexy.
I mentioned her in my talk to the Year 8’s. I wonder how many of them had a clue who I was talking about?
ADayInTheStrifeOf 