Just before Christmas I was lurking in a small shop in Bradford-on-Avon called Artworks, trying to resolve the ancient Christmas dilemma (the ancient Christmas dilemma, of course, is this: when you buy presents, should you buy the wonderfully tasteful yet idiosyncratic things you would like to be given yourself or should you buy the odd and rather unprepossessing presents that you think the other person would like?) and as I wandered through the Abanazar's grotto of goodies, I overheard a mother saying to her young daughter: "Darling, can you remember what colour Aunt Gillian's new sofa is?"
This question startled both me and the young girl at whom it was aimed. It startled the young girl because it was, at first sight, such a batty question. It startled me because - well, I suppose because it was such a grown-up question to be addressed to such a small (8-year-old maximum) child. Unlike the girl, who probably thought she was getting into some terrifying general knowledge quiz, I knew immediately why the question was being asked, because I am a grown-up man and have been trained by women to know the importance of whether a new purchase will go with an old purchase. You have to know the colour of a waistcoat or wallpaper, for instance, before you can safely buy a shirt or clock to go with it.
Like most men, it took me ages to learn all this stuff. It is a terrible shock when you first find that some things go better with other things than other things. In fact, it is all part of the beginning of wisdom when someone first says to you, "I don't think that shirt really goes with that jersey", and you start to leave that enchanted land where you think everything can go with everything - where purple can go with any colour you like, where tomato sauce can go on fried eggs and where you don't know that white clothes make you look fatter. That girl was still in that far-off country. She looked up at her mother as if mother was mad. Mother asked her again what colour Aunt Gillian's new sofa was and then gave up.
I have been thinking about that question off and on ever since, because it made me realise how many stupid questions we ask our children. When they are young, we tend to aim questions like this at them....
"Who's a lovely baby, then?"
"And what's your name?"
"And how are we today?"
"And what's Father Christmas bringing you then?"
"And what are you getting for your birthday?"
That's when we are feeling nice. When we are feeling nasty, we ask equally pointless questions. Like these.
"And who said you could do that?"
"What do you think you are up to?"
"Just what is going on here?"
"Just who do you think you are?"
"What kind of a mess do you call this?"
But we don't stop asking children stupid questions when they reach puberty. It's then that we get on to such imbecile queries as:-
"So, how is school going then?"
"Enjoying school, are you?"
"My goodness, we are growing big, aren't we?"
"Do you remember when you were a little baby and came here and nearly fell in the pond?"
"Holidays nearly over, are they?"
And so on to college days. I overheard someone in second year at university the other day saying to a similar friend, " Why are adults incapable of asking me anything but 'What are you thinking of doing afterwards?' It drives me mad!" This was very hurtful to me personally, as I had recently asked him that very question. My only consolation was that when we are grown-up we don't stop asking each other questions of equal inanity....
"So, how's everything going, then?"
"Everyone well, then?"
"How goes the struggle, then?"
And people who are paid to ask questions seem to know no better. I heard Michael Heseltine , just before Christmas on Radio 4, being asked "Do you foresee a party leadership battle coming up, and if so, would you offer yourself as candidate?" Heseltine plainly thought he was going to be asked about current Tory policy and, to do him credit, he exploded slightly.
"Oh, for God's sake," or words to this effect, "why do you always ask me the same tirseome question over and over again when you know that I always give the same answer and even if the answer was any different from usual, you don't think I'd go on 'The World At One' to announce it. do you? For heaven's sake ask me something intelligent!"
Which might have been a good point for the interviewer to say, "You don't happen to remember the colour of Aunt Gillian's new sofa, do you?"
Thursday Jan 5 1995