"Dad, have you seen my pen drive anywhere?" "No, son, but I could swear I saw your stapler catch the bus last week."
Now then, that's a dad joke if ever there was one and as you can probably tell by how rubbish it is, I made it up myself.
Unfortunately, I was minded of this crime against all decent humour recently when I did, in fact, lose my pen drive. It's highly inconvenient when these things happen and I always end up cursing the misguided boffins who think that making stuff smaller is, by definition, a good move. It's not. Pen drives should be the size and weight of a house brick; that way they'd be impossible to lose. Every time you bought ten you could get a free wheelbarrow for ease of transport. Clearly, the only thing that those self important coves in Silly Con Valley should be working on with a view to to making them smaller is their own egos.
Come to think of it, mobile phones should be the size and weight of a house brick too. That would make us all think twice about taking them out with us unless it was absolutely necessary and it'd certainly put a stop to those daft people who hold them above their heads at concerts, blocking the view of the person behind, in order to record tinny videos which they're never going to watch again in a thousand years.
Just as smaller is so often mistakenly seen as better where technology is concerned, in other areas of our lives, speed seems to have become the holy grail for far too many of us.
It's not the way they're abandoned round town like idly discarded lovers, or, indeed the posture of a rather camp Roman emperor that they impose on their riders. No, those electronic scooter thingies are guilty of many crimes but the most heinous is the assumption that getting somewhere more quickly is an irrefutably positive goal. It quite clearly isn't. I'm sure that somebody somewhere must have written something about the journey being more important than the destination but I'm blowed if I can remember who it was or what they actually said. Anyway, they were right. Pinging down the street with your nose in the air might shave some minutes off your travel time but Shanks's Pony, rather more appealingly, affords you the chance to stop and smell the roses as you go.
There's a lot to be said for plodding along, contemplating the infinite or your next beer or whatever. Moreover, if you're carrying a mobile phone on you the size and weight of a house brick, you'll be moving even more slowly.
And that can only be a good thing.