An unusual distinction


Wednesday, April 13, 2005


He’s of average height and build. He has grey hair and a puzzled expression. His clothes and manner are subdued. If you passed him in the street you might not notice him. You’d never think he was in any way remarkable.

Yet David Smith is no ordinary man. Last year he was awarded the first ever Nobel Prize for Tedium.

‘Hello,’ he says in a faint monotone, ushering you into the uncluttered hall of his characterless home somewhere near Surbiton. ‘The sitting room is in here.’

The room is decorated in neutral colours. Its furniture is undistinguished.

Has he always been tedious, or was it something he became interested in as he went through life?

After a pause, he says quietly: ‘As far as I can remember, I’ve never become interested in anything.’

Not even in winning a Nobel Prize?

‘No,’ he replies, with no change of intonation or facial expression. ‘They wanted me to go to a foreign country and attend a banquet. I’m afraid I’m not interested in any of that sort of thing.’

So what does he like to do in his spare time?

‘I have no spare time. My work is too important.’

What work is that?

‘I don’t know. I’ve never bothered to find out. I don’t think it’s very interesting.’

You realize there’s a strange noise in the background, like distant traffic or thunder. Somehow it doesn’t seem worth asking about.

Does he know who nominated him for the prize, or why it was sort of set up, or whatever?

‘No.’

Is there anything he’d like to mention, anything at all, on any subject, not that you care, really?

‘No.’

Er, well, not sure what else, perhaps, er…

‘I think you’d better come through to the dining room.’

As he opens the dining room door, noise gets louder.

Room full of men and women. Piled on top of each other. One hundred, two hundred? All fast asleep. Snoring.

Previous, er, oh God, you know, what’s the word, interviewers, is it?

He nods slightly.

It doesn’t seem to matter.

You lie down.

Er….

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.




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