I am sure at least some of you will want to know that, thanks to social media, the Daily Blog and the power of friendship, My Boy and the Darling Daughter in Law (pictured looking appropriately happy) are off to the Big
Rugby Match tomorrow. In short, they are the winners of the caption competition I told you about yesterday. Hurrah!
When I wrote yesterday’s Daily Blog,
80 people had “liked” My Boy’s caption, which, you may remember, was all about cwtches (Welsh for cuddles) – not exactly what one might expect of those burly, beefy types who hurl themselves about on rugby pitches. By the
time the competition closed at 12 noon today, 217 people had signed up in support. The main challenge was from a chap who didn’t even supply a proper caption, just a rousing “C’mon Wales!”, which was patriotic enough to score
many points – but fortunately not as many as My Boy and his cwtches.
This all proves several things of great portent. Firstly, that My Boy has powers
of persuasion which border on the fanatical. I think it’s generally called Pester Power and it is more often used to describe the effect on poor parents of TV advertising aimed at their small off-spring. “No, darling, you really don’t
need another Peppa Pig activity set, or an inter-active dolls house complete with helpful, household robots, or a jet-propelled balance bike with flashing lights and a hunting horn.” My Boy used Pester Power to great effect in the winning of his competition
– so much so that, quite frankly, his friends were supporting him, and urging their own friends to support him, just to get him off their backs. Family, too, were not immune from Pester Power, hence my shameless support in yesterday’s Daily
Blog. “What else were you going to write about?” he didn’t quite say, “What could be more important than getting us to the Big Match?” Pester Power, don’t you agree?
Secondly, it says a lot about the way social media work. Knock it if you will – but there is no way My Boy could have reached 217 people in the space of a few hours just by telephoning them. Especially as a great many of them were friends
of friends completely unknown to him but who had been pestered in turn by a mutual pal. This is called “Pester Power By Pal.” Don’t worry if you haven’t heard of it before, I just made it up.
Most of all, the response has demonstrated to me the power of friendship. Friends asked friends to help and, friends being friends, they did. I make no apologies for using the word “friends” four times in
a single sentence, though it may well be a record.
My friends mean such a lot to me. There are friends from my childhood, like dear Pat, who knew me long
before Mr B came on the scene. There are friends from our Staplehurst days – including many of my one-time Brownies, now all grown-up with children of their own. I can only marvel at the thought that a shy little lass who quailed at the very thought
of jumping over the chair / gate to be admitted to the Pack, now tells her own children not to be afraid of challenges but to face up to them with a cheerful heart.
There are friends and colleagues from my days as a Working Gal, many of whom I stay in touch with via Facebook. Lots of them read the Daily Blog (for which I thank them) so know all about my life and times. In my turn, I love to hear about their
joys and to support them in their sadnesses. Last but not least, there are all the many friends we have made in retirement – dozens and dozens of lovely people whom we (i) sing with in the choir; (ii) play cribbage / canasta / nomination whist with or
(iii) who are members of the Questers and accompany us on behind the scenes outings here, there and everywhere. Our social life has blossomed like a cottage garden over the last eighteen months.
So you see My Boy’s caption competition win has set me thinking about friendship and how much it is to be valued, fostered and cherished.
To all my friends: thank you for being part of my life. It simply wouldn’t be the same without you.