This blog is a personal view of how it feels to be the Vice-President, and then the President, of CIPA. These are my own words, not CIPA’s: tongue-in-cheek, often irreverent, sometimes satirical. They are written for people with a sense of humour, a broad mind and a generous and forgiving spirit. And talking of spirits, they contain quite a lot of references to gin, which I like drinking. If you think you might find this type of writing disturbing, please do not read any further.
Tuesday, 14 April 2015
A very long day in Cambridge
25 February 2015
Mr Davies is up bright and early, hoping his
remote-controlled inflatable fish has arrived.While we are waiting, we visit another firm of CIPA members.Then we return to the Cambridge CPD
seminar.This has been billed as a Smörgåsbord
of short talks on a range of IP-related topics.Inevitably, the speakers are incapable of sticking to their time slots,
and so it is more of an all-you-can-eat buffet of normal-length talks.
Happy hour follows.I
am not very happy because there is no gin and tonic, only some sparkling wine
stuff which makes you feel like you’ve been sneezing vinegar.On an empty stomach, two glasses is enough to
render your mouth more articulate than your brain, but I fail to notice this
vital clue and carry on talking anyway.
There is some posh food.The pudding is a giant profiterole, the size of a bagel, or perhaps it
is a Yorkshire pudding and I have mis-sequenced the courses in some way.I am still talking, only now I am talking
with my mouth full.
The giant profiterole is followed by an orienteering trip
round the streets of Cambridge, via a number of most welcoming hostelries,
which ends up back where we started.Whilst we are away someone puts the clocks forward.3 am comes and goes.There is a game of Pictionary and a kebab, in
that order.I do not know why.I find I am still talking.In fact, there are now only three of us talking, and one of them has a mouthful of kebab.
I was supposed to be writing a speech tonight after the posh
dinner.I realise this is not going to
happen when I find myself setting my alarm for a time that is already nearly an
26 February 2015
I do four “meet-the-members” visits.I wonder how obvious it is that I am not
actually conscious.Mr Lampert joins me
for the first two, after which he loses interest in pretending to be conscious
and heads for home.
Luckily, wherever I go, the Biscuit Pixies have been there
first, and this is what sustains me through the long day.For one meeting the Pixies have delivered
pink wafery party biscuits, which apparently I was talking about in some detail
in the pub last night.This really is
magical.I cannot remember the last time
someone listened to me in a pub and then actually went and did something about