Jonathan Dodd’s latest column. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
My mother always used to insist that I wore clean underwear at all times. She was never very specific about the definition of the Clean Underwear State, and I was always too young and uncaring to ask about it. In fact, I suspect that she would still think I was, were she still here and able to be asked.
I think that her reasoning ran like this: The only persons who might possibly see me in my underwear would be doctors and/or nurses, and the only time that might happen would be if I was run over by a bus.
Those were innocent times
She obviously didn’t take account of the numerous times people saw me in or even out of my underwear in changing rooms at the pool or school, but that’s another matter. Those were innocent times. She couldn’t bear to think about the nurse or the doctor in the hospital noticing that I wasn’t wearing underwear that was clean before I was flattened by the bus.
That would have been mortifying for her, I’m sure. Probably even more than the sight of my ravaged frame, all squashed and tarmac-and-tyre-tread-printed. I expect she would have torn me off more of a strip for the underwear state than the physical damage.
A perfectly good set of clothes
And then she would have told me off for ruining a perfectly good set of clothes, and for frightening the poor bus driver, and for making so many innocent passengers late for work. Not to mention the wanton waste of the precious time of policemen and ambulance drivers and the general purse.
Maybe some time after that she would have asked me how I was, and offered to run the bit that hurt under the tap. I think this was probably the most pressing reason for me avoiding the wheels of the buses on our roads.
A bit of a sense of humour mismatch
I’m exaggerating, of course. And my mother would be horrified if she was able to see this. We always had a bit of a sense of humour mismatch. I was very lucky to have a mother who cared so much. Sorry Mum.
I was thinking about her the other day, and I remember that being run over by a bus was a favourite saying of hers. It was mainly about leaving things unfinished, and the shame of being found out in a state of unpreparedness.
Old ladies on their own
We lived in Hove, which was full of old ladies on their own in houses that were falling down round their ears, and hardly a week went by without one or more of them being found, mostly by postmen or paper-boys, noticing a build-up of milk or papers. There would often be quite a search for relatives or wills, and consequently a lot of work for solicitors, who all grew fat and prosperous. No wonder my mother wanted me to be a solicitor when I grew up.
Had I been less feckless and more organised in my habits I might have been unable to push against the powerful force of her wishes, but I slipped from under it and skipped off to a life that was different and no doubt more exciting. I have no idea whether the path I took was better or worse.
Knowing what it’s supposed to do
I do have some things in common with solicitors though. I’ve become a fan of documentation. Not in my personal life, you understand, because I’m not very good at being organised at home. Where my appreciation of documentation is at its height is at work. I’ve often had to test software that didn’t have any, and that’s always been an ordeal, because there’s no way anyone can test anything without knowing what it’s supposed to do.
The first question anyone should ask themselves before starting anything at all, is this – “What do I want this thing to do?” Or whatever form of words you prefer. Nobody goes to the supermarket without checking their cupboards and fridges and freezers and making a list. Or maybe they do. I would have thought that a list of what’s been used up and what’s going to be needed in the next few days would be an obvious thing. In the same way I can’t imagine Ford asking their workforce to build cars without designing every little part, how it fits with every other little part, and what order to put it all together in.
Assemble it on the way down
That’s what I thought, until I worked with someone a few years ago whose son had just graduated as an engineer, and his first job at Ford was to take one of their wings for a popular model and work out how they would design it if they had done that first, rather than just made one and copied it. This is the equivalent of designing an airplane by throwing lots of parts off a cliff and believing you’ll assemble it on the way down.
It’s the difference between running a Premier Division football team and dragging some lads out of the pub on a Saturday afternoon for a kickabout in the park. There’s nothing wrong with a kickabout. As long as you don’t confuse it with Football or any commercial activity. The thing to do is to remember that every hour spent planning means several hours saved later down the line correcting things that just don’t work, or just don’t fit. And the most important thing is to define what the thing’s for, then never to forget that.
You’ve got to have the wherewithal
The other thing you should make sure you’ve got a strong understanding of before setting out from home is how realistic your goal is. I sometimes wish politicians would allow themselves to be realistic and reasonable before churning out their policies and then pushing them through at great expense, before dropping them in favour of something more eye-catching and vote-worthy.
Let’s face it, having clean underwear is a rather attractive idea. But you’ve got to be organised so there’s always a supply of clean undies, and you’ve got to have the wherewithal to buy new ones and a method of getting them washed and dried. If you really want to go the whole hog, you might also iron them all. I believe there are people who do that.
My mother and I would agree
One thing I can say that my mother and I would agree on wholeheartedly. If there’s one thing that’s worse than being run over by a bus when you’re wearing dirty underwear, it’s being run over by a bus if you’re not wearing anything at all.
Besides, it would get a bit draughty. And as my mother always said, you’ll get a cold if you sit in a draught.
If you have been, thank you for reading this.
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