Self preservation

Many years ago, I used to have to travel to Bradford for meetings with a particularly challenging client. Except they weren't meetings. That word was banned in this particular organisation. They had "events". I think enough time has passed for me to state publicly that this particular organisation (which no longer exists, curiously enough) was well and truly up its own backside. One memorable day, Mr Smith and I managed to keep straight-ish faces as the client told us that they'd chosen the Police track, "Every Breath You Take ..." as the soundtrack to their TV commercial. The sinister undertones of the song had completely passed them by.

Anyway, those were fairly grim times. The client had a nasty habit of arranging "events" so that I had to waste hours and hours of time in Bradford. After a couple of feeble attempts to go shopping, eating or drinking there, I found it was best just to take refuge in a book at Leeds/Bradford Airport (a joke of a place, back then, might be different now).

After all this, I was never surprised to find that the only books they sold in the one crappy shop at the airport were all self-help books.

So, given where we've all got to now, it seems kind of fitting that the man behind Self Help hails from Haddington, which Mr Smith currently calls home.