Mostly Harmless and insecure pink fish

Having spent the last few days pondering on my previous post about the last decade, one thing - or rather one persion - keeps popping into my mind.

In the late 70s, when I was in my formative, primary school years and you could still have a good night out for 3 and 6 and have change for the bus fare home (I gest), I happened across a recording of a radio show that one of my cousins had made. Although I didn't quite understand it all (and as time went on, I realised how little I _did_ understand) it grabbed me in a way that nothing had before, shook me by the lapels and made me realise that radio wasn't all about the music charts (which I was a little too young to be in to) and The Archers (which, living in a small rural town, was just like normal life - only with more cows giving birth).

The show was The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy and it went on to have quite an effect on me, but that probably wasn't apparent at the time. Over a long time I've come to realise that my slightly odd sense of humor and my love of words and language came directly from this influence. The dense, multileveled language of both the radio series and the books opened up new possibilities for the written word to me and later insired me to write all kinds of odd things in all kinds of odd places, including poetry, music lyrics and endless nonsense such as this. I already had a well developed interest in technology by the time I first heard the Guide, but it showed me that technology wasn't all serious - like it was on Tomorrow's World - we could have Nutrimat machines, depressed robots and chatty doors.

Later, after listening to the radio series more times that I care to contemplate and having read the first four books a ludicrious number of times, I also came to hear of the author's after-dinner speaking on technology and related topics. And he had a lot to say. And it made sense - proper sense, not just some technologist babbling. Later still, he became entranced with the natural world and with ecology and conservation, and he showed his natural flair for getting across an idea intact with feeling, context and emotion.

I met Douglas Adams once, at a book signing. Being quite a fan I was totaly unable, of course, to come up with anything spontaneous and witty to say to him when my 5 seconds of proximity came along. I've thought of lots of things since - but actually prefer it that way.

I only bring it up because thinking back on the last decade it was one seminal moment - he died in 2001, very suddenly. I'd have liked to have a chance to hear him talk and I'd like to have read a couple more of the books that he never wrote (he was, after all, terrible at actually getting down to the whole buisness of writing - but when he finally did, the results were always excellent). I do, however, take great comfort in the fact that a number of his phrases seem to crop up in the English language now - often without the user having any concept of where the phrase came from - a little like Shakespear.

So when I hear "Life, the Universe and everything", "Share and enjoy", "When you are tired of you are tired of life" or the number 42 - it gives me a small tinge of enjoyment - much like a Poghril telling their favourite joke (q.v.).