You are Einstein and I Claim my £5

I have been blessed with some ideas of near if not complete business genius recently.  As I have neither the money nor the inclination to actually carry them out, I have decided to share them with you via the power of the world wide internets, in the hope that someone with a big purse will see them, think: ‘That’s awesome’, and immediately make them happen.  Good eh?

 

Here are my latest ideas for your perusal.  I’ll start with the best first. I don’t believe in delayed gratification:

 

1. The Silent Salon

 

Here’s the thing. Most of us need to go and have a haircut on a semi-regular basis.  It can be quite stressful.  Unless you are lucky, and rich, it is hard to find hairdressers who are good and who make you look good.  When you have found one, you tend to stick to them like glue because the memory of that time the woman made you look like your aged mother, or Michael Jackson in his ‘Off the Wall’ period or worse, Richard III is still burned into your retinas and you realise what a treasure you have.

 

Unfortunately, having a competent hairdresser who makes you look like a human being, does not always mean that the hairdresser is endowed with the mental powers of Jeremy Paxman, or the ability to soothe you verbally like the doyenne of the sofa, Lorraine Kelly.  This means that you sit in the chair for several hours while she witters away at the back of your head and you are forced to smile, chat and hold forth, all the while thinking of reaching behind you, taking the bowl of hair dye and burying your face in it screaming: ‘No more! No more! Arrrghhh!’

 

It is debatable whether it is worse to have a hairdresser who sticks to the normal round of hairdresserly pleasantries such as:

 

Are you going anywhere nice on holiday this year? To which I am always tempted to reply: ‘No. Usually we like to go on holiday to somewhere really horrible.  This year we will be spending two weeks in Silo B of Dungeness Power Station in November, and you?’

 

‘Are you doing nice anything tonight?’ To which I bite my tongue not to say: ‘Yes. If you think that climbing into your fourteenth best pyjamas, scratching your bosom whilst watching Sarah Beeney and falling asleep in a pile of your own drool while your children take apart the house brick by brick is a good time.’

 

Or my friend’s absolute favourite:

 

‘Are you Piscerian? No? That’s a surprise. I could have sworn you were Piscerian.’ Why? By the fact that I’m going to the Dordogne on holiday or the fact that I part my hair in the middle and not to the side? Do tell.

 

Or you could, as in my case in the last place I lived, have a ‘controversial’ hairdresser.  A controversial hairdresser who liked to take a minimum of four hours to do a colour, cut and blow dry, during which time we would range through topics such as:

 

• What do you think of the Catholic Church? – Alright, but I couldn’t eat a whole one.
• Drug taking and its impact on the youth of today – They should do more of it, but only the ones that make them fall asleep and not bother anyone.  Heroin compulsory for the over fives.  Free on the NHS.
• The schooling system – Cheaper than prison, although the hours are less convenient if you’re a working mother.
• Blood sports – No thanks. It’s bad enough watching the children killing each other over a game of Ludo.
• The rise of the Third Reich and its subsequent waning in popularity. Who knew it wouldn’t catch on? Just goes to show what a fickle thing fashion is.
• Racism – No thanks, although I would like to form a posse and gang up on people who think Venetian Blinds are a good thing.
• Sexual orientation in a small Midland’s town and how come everyone knows even if you don’t want them to? Me, I blame hairdressers.
• Smoking in public places – alright as long as you don’t set yourself on fire.  I think pipe smoking should be made compulsory for the over twelves.

 

More fruitful than my choice of holiday destinations, admitted.  Tiring though? Oh yes, specially when all you want to do is flick through back issues of Elle and eat biscuits.

 

So. The Silent Salon.  A brilliant idea.  The only thing the hairdresser is allowed to discuss with you is your hair.  After that they must remain silent.  Books, iPods and cake will be provided, but otherwise it will be a room full of women in a state of zen like calm covered in cake crumbs and tin foil.

 

I thank you.

 

2. The Dawn of a New Age in Televisual Viewing Pleasure

 

I had this idea when Jason and I were watching Property Ladder last week and having a lovely time bitching and moaning.  What the world needs is ten minute programmes of Jason and I being filmed watching and commenting on our favourite shows.  We will be like those two old blokes on the Muppets, but wearing pyjamas and wee willie winkie night caps.  It will be cult viewing. It will sweep the nation.  We will be stars in our own lunchtime.

 

3. The Issue of Mornings

 

I have to confess that this idea is boring, and practical, and not up to my usual standard, but what can I say? It’s exhausting being an off the wall genius.  Sometimes you just have to come up with something normal for a bit of a rest.

 

We have black out blinds in our bedroom because Jason likes to sleep in total darkness, and preferably total quietness.  Unfortunately, sleeping next to me has foiled this plan for the last five years because I fidget and moan and scratch and need to put the light on repeatedly etc. 

 

Anyway, we have these blinds, and they are wonderful if what you need is to grope about in the dark stubbing your toe and swearing every five minutes. I highly recommend them. Particularly if you have a large blanket box at the end of your bed with particularly pointy corners.

 

The only problem is that when it is exceedingly hot, as now, you cannot have the windows open and the blinds down.  This is because if the wind picks up it smushes the blinds and they disintegrate.  It is not good.

 

At the moment it is so hot that even Jason has agreed that the fan is not enough, and we have the windows open.  This means the blinds are up.  This means that he wakes up at six in the morning, cannot get back to sleep and wanders around like a bear about to fall into a particularly grumpy coma for the rest of the day.

 

Hence my idea.  Blinds that are activated by sensors on the outside of the window that respond to sunlight.  As soon as the dawn breaks, the sensors will activate and the windows will shut and the blinds will purr down. Naturally it has to be a quiet motor. No good being saved from the evils of sunlight if the sound of the blinds coming down is like someone ploughing a field.

 

Either that or someone could invent glass which is a bit like those photo sensitive lenses in glasses, window panes which darken as the sun gets brighter.  Brilliant eh?

 I am now a depleted husk. I’m going to eat some cake to see if I can spur on my mental prowess further.