I don’t know if you remember, but when you were a little girl or a little boy, it’s likely that you doted on your parents and hung on their every word.  In fact, you thought that everything they said was the gospel truth – they were like gods!  Then, not so many years later and certainly by adolescence, somehow your parents had become quite idiotic. In fact, almost over night they seemed to have lost all reason. Virtually everything they said was absolute nonsense.  They didn’t seem to have a sensible word between the two of them.  And everything was about what you could or couldn’t do, according to some archaic rules, which should have been eliminated long ago.

And then you reached your 20s, and you might occasionally have deigned to listen to something they said and think it was just about OK.  You matured and as you did, you began to realise that they were not quite as daft as you had thought.  You understood them better and quite a lot of what they said actually made sense.  When did they change? 

By the time you reached your 40s, you started being concerned about the same sorts of things as they were all those years ago.  If you had children, which I didn’t, this might have begun earlier.  Certainly by my late 40s, I started being concerned by the volume of rubbish I saw discarded in my yard or the streets and actually started picking it up and throwing it in bins!  Around this time, I realised, to my horror that I was turning into my Mother!  I even considered having a t-shirt saying “Oh My God, I’m turning into my Mother” but decided against it as I didn’t want anyone to know.  Well, now the cat’s out of the bag and since both my parents are dead, I feel that it is now not only a right but my duty to pick up the gauntlet where they left off and fight for law and order, for discipline and of course “bring back national service.”

Public speaking and humour go together like a hand in a glove.  No matter whether you are delivering a business presentation, a wedding speech or a talk, humour helps in countless ways.  Firstly, it helps to relax the audience as well as the speaker.  If you can make your audience laugh, then you’re half way there to winning them over. 

Probably the most important thing to remember about humour, however, is that it must be appropriate – appropriate to the audience and appropriate to the circumstances.  Unless you are very good at telling jokes, steer away from them and, although personally I love a smutty joke, in terms of public speaking, this is an absolute no, no. 

In my opinion, the best form of humour is natural and spontaneous.  One such incident which happened to me recently comes to mind.  I was attending a Carrington lunch (www.carrington-club.co.uk) and was invited to stand up in front of about 110 people and deliver a one minute on my business.  Jonathan Rose, Chairman of Carrington, who is himself an excellent speaker, introduced me as “sourced entirely from Dorset” as he had just been talking about Buy Dorset (www.BuyDorset.co.uk.)  I immediately said, oh no “saucy from Dorset” with the appropriate cheeky grin on my face.  It went down a storm, made people laugh and made me feel very relaxed indeed.  Result: a number of people spoke to me afterwards interested in attending one of my courses. 

I was standing on a crowded tube train squashed in like a sardine in a tin can, heading towards the Gare du Nord, one of the main railway stations in Paris.  I suddenly became aware that my handbag was open.   Quelqu’un a pique mon porte-monnaie (someone’s pinched my purse!) I exclaimed, panic and dismay sounding in my voice!  I scanned the crowd as if looking for answers but found none. Almost immediately, I was approached by two dark haired gentlemen (and I use the term gentlemen very loosely) who wanted me to go with them.  Although only 17 at the time and quite naïve in many ways, I instantly felt suspicious of them.  Were they the perpetrators of my stolen purse?  Had they stolen it for some ulterior motive?  My mind was racing and so was my heart!   Perhaps they were white slave traders whose intention was to whisk me away to some far-flung land and do evil things to me?  Almost without hesitation, I responded, “Allez-vous en, laissez-moi tranquille” (go away and leave me alone!).

I scurried away as fast as I could, my breathing fast and shallow, as I was afraid they might decide to follow me.  Eventually, I arrived in the Gare du Nord and only then did I feel safe enough to stop and take stock of my situation.  And what a situation I was in!  I was a foreigner in a foreign country.  I had no money.  I had no train ticket.  How on earth was I going to be able to get back to the family I was staying with outside Paris?  I just stood there looking utterly helpless, fear and panic written all across my face.  I just didn’t have a clue WHAT to do!  I must have looked a really pathetic sight for shortly, almost as if by magic, a kindly looking gentleman in his late 50s appeared before me.  Qu’est-ce qu’il y a ma petite?  (What’s the matter little one) he asked softly.  Through sniffles and sobs, I explained “someone has stolen my purse and I have no money or ticket to get back home”.  I don’t know what to do.  Allez ma chere, ne vous inquietez pas – there, there, my dear, he cooed don’t worry.    Where do you want to go, he asked?  I’ll buy you a ticket.  And with that he strode to the ticket desk and paid for my fare.  I thanked him profusely promising to refund him as soon as I got back home.

Phew – that was a narrow escape, I thought as I looked for the appropriate platform.  Oh no, I exclaimed in my head – the train was going to be an hour late and the family were due to pick me up.  They would definitely be anxious if I didn’t turn up on time not to mention somewhat disgruntled.   Never mind, I would give them a call – after all there was plenty of time.  Zut alors, I cursed.  How could I possibly call them when I didn’t have a single penny on me, or should I say centime!

OK, Vanessa, I murmured under my breath, you can sort this small problem out.  I was psyching myself up.  After all, you have got over one major hurdle, so you can easily resolve this.  However, I decided that this time, I would take control!  I began walking up and down the platform, surreptitiously scrutinising the numerous passers-by, searching for a likely looking subject.  After all, I mused, there was bound to be someone willing to rescue a damsel in distress.   Eventually, I selected a suitable looking candidate – a youngish, well-dressed man - and summoning up all the courage I could muster, I approached him.  In my very best French, and with head slightly bowed, I recounted the events of the last half hour or so and finished by explaining that I needed to make a telephone call, but obviously didn’t have any money.  I was hoping upon hope that he would save the day.  I was not to be disappointed.  He dug into his pocket, and I heard the reassuring jangle of coins.  He then escorted me to a nearby phone booth and instructed me in the intricacies of the French telephone system.  Once I had spoken to the family, he then whisked me off to the station buffet for a much-needed cup of tea.  As I stepped on the train, he waved me good-bye and I breathed an enormous sigh of relief.  What a lucky girl I was.

And the moral of this story is twofold:

1. Always take great care of your purse, especially on crowded tube trains.

2. Never, ever let the few rotten people in the world blind you to the fact that the majority are honest, kind and genuine.  For it is my belief that most people are intrinsically good.