A big yellow envelope from Tom Champagne*

A few years ago, there was an advertisement on the television that invited inventors to send in their designs to a company who would, so they claimed, turn the ideas into global gold. The ad was so enticing, so compelling with its swirling black screens, fluorescent colours and liberal application of exclamation marks that it free-wired directly from the screen to your frontal cortex and sent you scurrying to the crumb-filled cracks in the back of the sofa lest you’d accidentally dropped that handbag sized solar powered toothbrush-cum-car-wash device you’d been working on. So insistent was the advert that it made you feel guilty to watch it and not have a world saving multi-purpose gadget to feverishly cram into the post box at the next possible opportunity.

“You worthless fool! You earthworm!” ran the subtext, “so many people are inventing so much life changing stuff every minute of every day that we’re advertising for it! On the telly! With Twilight Zone type music and too much punctuation and everything! Your next door neighbour is doing it! Your mother is too! Heck, even your dog’s in on the inventing act! So what kind of invertebrate does that make you if you haven’t got anything to send us! Stop being coy! Send it send it send it!”

There was a part of me too that appreciated the universal embrace of an advert that liked to suggest that inventing useful stuff was something that anybody could do. That the whole thing turned out to be a scam (surely not…?) and was pulled from further transmission a few months later is neither here nor there; I liked the principle. Beyond the conversion of a few kitchen implements into makeshift gardening tools and the essential female prerequisite of using the blade of a knife as a screwdriver, I’ve never invented anything. But I like the idea that I could.

I also like the idea that I could win the Reader’s Digest prize draw. Oh yes I do, and the big yellow envelope on my desk knows that too. Indeed, such a level of awareness does this envelope have of the impact it makes that it boasts six different stickers on its front (including a printed stamp that substitutes a partial Pegasus for the Queen’s head) and eight on the back (seven of which dedicate themselves to showing me where to open it and reassuring me that yes, it has been secured). I haven’t read all the way through the seven pages of contents yet, but I have so far gathered that I could win a lot of money or a car or possibly both. Which would be great; all I have to do is…

Well I’m not quite sure yet. But someone has to win and I don’t think I have to invent anything.


*NB – sadly, the RD prize draw letter doesn’t come from Tom Champagne any longer. I do miss the old fella. It's not the same without him.