The Power of Suggestion

In which The Author plays a joke on a friend

My pal Gaz has an unfortunate habit of falling asleep after a few beers. It’s happened to us all, of course, but never with such frightening regularity as it does to Gaz.
We were playing an important quiz game one night in our local pub. During the second half, we noticed that Gaz had gone rather quiet. We assumed that the questions were just on topics which were out of his field. The eighth round consisted of the individual questions; mine was on Politics.
James T. started reading the question: ‘Which Conservative politician has recently been selected to fight the seat of Kensing—’
‘Alan Clark!’ Gaz shouted. We all looked at him in horror – the question was forfeited.
‘What are you doing, man? It’s my bloody question!’
Gaz went scarlet and looked for a hole to crawl into.
‘I must have dropped off,’ he mumbled, ‘I thought we were doing the “spares.”‘
Another time, he dozed off on a train returning from a football game in Port Talbot. The plan was to change trains in Cardiff and make his way home. But the beer kicked in, and the next thing he recalls is being woken up by the conductor. At London’s Paddington Station.
When he asked the conductor what time he’d get a train back to Cardiff, he was told, ‘Nine o’clock tomorrow morning.’ Undeterred, Gaz decided he’d be able to crash out at a relative’s house, so he set off on the tube. And fell asleep …
He was turfed off the underground at Hammersmith when the network shut down for the night, and wandered around all night until the trains started running again. It cost him £38 to get home on the Sunday – and then the pillock went and told us all what had happened!
Now that cameraphones are pretty universal currency, there are a lot of embarrassing pictures of Gaz in various pubs, surrounded by a lively party of friends, chucking out the Zs to his heart’s content. He’s even been known to fall asleep standing up, pint in hand, perfectly poised and not spilling a drop. It’s an incredible gift – and a infinite source of potential mischief!
Anyway, on Good Friday a gang of us met up in our local pub, and decided to go on a bit of a pub crawl. Knowing that it would be a long day and a late night (especially for Gaz!), we came up with a cunning plan. Under the seat where we were sitting, Amanda N. found an empty packet of 24-hour party pills. They’re high-dose caffeine and Vitamin B1 with some other ingredients, designed to keep you going at all-night dances and things. You can buy them openly in the local newsagents. I don’t know whether it had been discarded by one of our party, or was there from earlier on. It gave us an idea.
By the time we got to the Temple Bar, Amanda and I’d managed to convince Gaz that we’d slipped a couple of these pills in his pint. The rest of the gang played along with the joke. He was really worried. He muttered vague threats about suing us for ‘Common Assault’. Then he decided that we wouldn’t really have done such a terrible thing. But the doubt was in his mind. After another couple of beers we headed back to town, and drifted to a couple of different pubs.
Gaz texted me later on to say that he was going to a house party. That meant, against all the odds, that he was still awake at 10 p.m. – a new record. I decided to pass on the party – it had been a long day – and went home.
The following lunchtime, walking back into town, I spotted Gaz.
I crossed the road and greeted him with the words, ‘Still awake, mate?’
‘I haven’t been to sleep yet!’ he replied with a broad grin.
We’re currently preparing a paper on the Placebo Effect, to go to one of the medical journals.
In the meantime, Gaz is psyching himself up for the come-down that won’t happen. RESULT!

Careers Advice to the Young

In which The Author offers some life lessons
to the next generation

Learn a skill while you get the chance. The old crafts are disappearing, and those who master them can command their own salary.
An example: thatched roofs may be decorative and appealing, but they cost an absolute fortune to maintain – simply because only a handful of people still have the know-how to work in the traditional manner.
Another example: the ability to write shorthand was once the tool of every secretary. Now, dictation machines have made it largely redundant. The only people who learn shorthand now are trainee journalists (mainly from a sense of tradition). But batteries can run flat and power cuts can occur. Unlike the dictation machine, the shorthand master can work anywhere, being rendered out of service only by a lack of paper or a broken pencil.
These are two examples of arcane arts, way beyond the capabilities of the amateur, but immensely valuable to those who master them. Please bear them in mind as you read on …
  • Learn to write. Constructing logical sentences in one’s native language, with generally-accepted spelling and grammar, is a skill which is dying out. (If you don’t believe me, look at any Internet site frequented by young people – or, come to that, the application forms for temporary work in our bookshop.) Even fewer young people have mastered the arcane art of putting marks on paper using ink. Learn these skills at any price – they are in increasingly short supply.
  • Learn to read. Not by simply skimming from MySpace bulletin to MySpace bulletin on the screen of a mobile phone, or hopping across speech bubbles in a Manga comic. I’m talking about reading actual physical books – page after page of text, designed to entertain, or to inform, or to advise, or to comfort, or to irritate, or to amuse, or to provoke, or to sadden, or to cheer, or to bemuse, or to enlighten. A book is the distilled product of a person’s hard work and imagination, in an easily portable form for use anywhere, in any situation. Like the secretary who knows shorthand, the truly great reader will never fall victim to technological breakdown. The only time which a book fails is in inadequate lighting conditions. It really is a tool for everyday use. It can even come with illustrations if you like them, but they’re not necessary. It may take you many years to master this skill, but the rewards are infinite and eternal.
  • Learn to speak. It is vital that you can express yourself in your spoken native language, clearly and without ambiguity. Initially, concentrate on the meaning of your utterances, and make them direct and concise. Leave nuances of meaning to poets, and leave puns and double entendres to comedians. These will come with experience and maturity. Using language is like playing a musical instrument – you must first master the basics before moving on to the advanced exercises.
  • Learn to listen. Always remember this: you do not know in advance what the person attempting to engage you in conversation will say next. It may be merely a phatic exchange, conveying no information but intended to cement your social relationships. Alternatively, it could be something of tremendous importance – something that will turn your mental landscape inside out. You cannot predict this ahead of time. And if you do not listen, you may miss out on a nugget of pure gold.
  • Learn to see. Look beyond the physical manifestation of the energy source known in some circles as a ‘soul’. The residual self-image before you will be, like yourself, buffeted by a thousand psychic winds. The least you can do is huddle together for protection from the storm. In Ireland they have a saying: ‘A stranger is only a friend you haven’t met yet.’ Facebook has a box on the ‘How do you know this person?’ checklist: We Met Randomly. Probably three-quarters of my friends (both virtual and real) will fall into that category, or into the category of Mutual Friends leading from the first group. Offer the hand of friendship; it will be grasped more not than often, but those rare successes will be more than adequate compensation for the failures.
  • Learn to talk. This is not the same as just speaking. I mean something far more complex and challenging. I’m talking about the very real problem of telling a fellow human being about your deepest feelings – the fears and doubts and hopes and dreams and fantasies that make you unique. Find someone whom you can trust with your secrets and talk to them. Ask yourself, how many of your virtual friends have you actually met, and could you trust them all with your secrets? If the answer is fewer than 100%, do not put your emotions on display on the Internet for all to read. Remember, you are not a film star or a contestant in a Reality TV show. Not that many people are interested in you, and airing your private life in public simply makes you vulnerable to abuse.
  • Learn to think. Examine both sides of the argument, form your own opinions and draw your own conclusions. Don’t follow the herd. There’s no safety in numbers. The only place the sheep ends up is in the slaughterhouse.
  • Enjoy life! It’s not always a laugh a minute, but if you can get through the first thirty years it really isn’t so bad …