Barclaycard advert

(Written 7/2/2010. And to remind you of the advert, see this first:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zo4LaXcERnA )

I'm much impressed by the latest Barclaycard advert, folks, which, if I understand it correctly, seeks to persuade me to build a customised roller-coaster ride between my house and place of work, financed with their credit card. While I must admit that it would be a most exhilarating way of commuting, and certainly much more green than using the Jag, I believe I may have spotted a tiny flaw in their recommendation.

Aha - you're thinking it's the cost, aren't you? Well, if the banking crisis has taught me anything (and I believe it has) it was that the loss of confidence was caused by people not borrowing enough. Or not paying enough back. One of the two, anyway. Well, a huge capital project like this will certainly require huge borrowing, and if we all get behind this initiative, I believe we can "kick start" the economy, as we masters of finance refer to it. I often get lovely letters from Barclaycard, explaining how their credit card rates are very low, and suggesting that I have an exotic holiday or buy some luxury white good, then pay for it later, so I imagine I'll be able to keep to their repayment schedule.

Now, I wouldn't be surprised if you're also thinking "Hang on - Babba regularly blows up computers, his kitchen tap has been dripping for six years and he's on first name terms with every AA patrol person in the UK. He is not, even on a good day, mechanically minded. As for mechanically handed, he is a walking disaster area. If he tries to put together a roller coaster, it'll end up going through someone's window. And bursting into flames for no explainable reason." I do not blame you for this thought, but I would point out that I have assembled flat-pack furniture in the past with some success.

I astonished an ex-partner some years ago when I put together two wardrobes and a floor to ceiling wall unit in an afternoon. I'll allow that part of her astonishment was due to her expecting the nest of tables shown on the pack, but that need not detain us.

The point is, I know which end of a screwdriver is the business end. A doctor once explained it to me, as part of a stern lecture that can be best summarised as "There are no user-serviceable parts inside your lung." So, you see, I now know which end to lean on when trying to shift a recalcitrant screw.

I shall buy a socket set - partly because if I go into a tool shop and ask for one, I'll know what it is when they hand it to me. I'll also take professional advice on how to use it from the NHS drop-in centre up the road.

Some welding will probably be needed, which might have been a problem, had not my mechanic (who can speak technically-challenged very well) once explained that "It's basically glueing metal together, that's all you need to know, chum". A few large tins of Evo-Stick, then, should suffice.

The supports? Oh, I can hear you now, you think the supports will be the problem, don't you? And yet, some friends will remember the unfeasably large tent that I used to bring to Cropredy. Believe me, if anyone knows how to rig a set of guy ropes, it is your correspondent. Supports, I assure you, will not be a problem. Especially if they are colour-coded with electrical tape like the supports of the tent were.

And if you think I'll be refusing professional help, you're wrong. I shall engage someone to paint the car properly, because I can't draw a lightning flash to save my life.

In all, then, I see no overall problems with the project, beyond the tiny flaw that sadly, makes it impossible. You haven't spotted it, have you? I don't blame you, it's clearly eluded Barclaycard, and it would probably fox most engineers. I'll tell you.

Friends... what happens if it's raining?

Yes, you'd get to work with your clothes all damp. And your hair all of a fright. And the spreadsheets in your briefcase would be a bit runny, so that all your co-workers would giggle when you handed them in to the boss, especially when you said "Sorry, sir... the dog wee'd on them", and some sneak shouted out "Make him do them again, sir!"

See, if I worked for Barclaycard, I could have told them that their roller-coaster commuting scheme was doomed from the outset. In fact, I may write to them and offer to advise on future advertising campaigns, because only complete thickos will buy into this one.

Meanwhile, I shall be putting my money into the American Express underground Ghost Train package, which promises to be just as exhilarating, but less weather-dependent. The giant drill and compass will be delivered next week, and all I have to do is remember to take a left turn at Albuquerque.