You know how you’re so sure that you know where somewhere is?
I am asked to do a lecture about working in TV – and being a Lord Lieutenant.
It is to be in front of a group from the University of the Third Age.
The U3A, as this organisation is now known, has been around for almost forty years.
It has going on for half a million members. Folk like me. People in their ‘third age’.
Learning is the reward
They are generally over fifty. They are often retired or semi-retired, and they are curious; regularly meeting in their various areas to pass on their knowledge to each other.
It might be a love of genealogy. Or it could be an understanding of computing. It may even be something less taxing – like flower arranging.
With no degrees of exams to pass, it is a different kind of university. It is where learning is its own reward.
I have done quite a few talks in the past. So, off I set, power point presentation at the ready.
I know exactly where I am going…
I know that the thing is happening in the Baptist Church hall – and I know exactly where I am going.
Yet, on arrival at the venue, the place looks like it is shut up.
So, I knock on a door. Then bang on a window, and, eventually, someone pops their head out.
‘I’ve come for the lecture’, I explain to a rather puzzled lady.
‘For the University of the Third Age… I’m supposed to be speaking in about twenty minutes. This is the Baptist Church, isn’t it?’
No, she informs me, this is the Church of the Latter-day Saints. By now, I am panicking – and it is showing.
‘Are you alright, dear? You look a bit distressed. Would you not like to come in and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea?’
Oh no! It’s nowhere near here
No, I would not. Well, yes, I would, but I now have to find the other church.
When I key it in, the satnav, tells me it is on the other side of town.
So, it’s back in the car. Where the contraption predicts it will take a quarter of an hour to get there.
It actually takes eighteen minutes and I rush into the hall with two to spare…
Not the best way to address a large audience. The thing is, get something in your head and little will shift it.
Never mind the wrong funeral
I once attended a funeral. We were five minutes into the service when I realised I did not know a soul there.
I was at the wrong church. Again.
Imagine the looks slinking out and down the aisle. And the interest at the other end when I eventually found where I was meant to be.
Mind, it could be worse. I see that mourners in Wales once sat through a whole service before the funeral directors realised they had sent the wrong body…
Memo to self. Next time I am to be somewhere, check and double check.
