17 January 2017, 6 pm
I talk to a group of schoolgirls about becoming a patent attorney. I tell them what a wonderful career I’ve had and all the bright, creative people I’ve worked with. I think it politic not to mention that some of the bright, creative people were also complete nutters, or that my wonderful career has culminated in my sitting at home answering emails for free. The girls diligently take notes. This is less because of any great interest in the subject and more because their teachers are watching them. And also because taking notes helps keep you awake. They are only here because the other two speakers were an epidemiologist and a professor of veterinary medicine. The epidemiologist talked about scary pandemics and showed clips from an exciting film about beautiful people dying. The veterinary professor showed pictures of cute fluffy kittens. Both of them told of their international travels in pursuit of biomedical clarity. Me, I spend my time reading bits of paper and I’ve been to Munich a lot. The girls all want to be vets and epidemiologists. They do not see the attraction of writing patent documents for a living and now and then visiting Munich for a hearing. The only time they perk up is when I tell them I once worked with products that, er, belonged on the shelves of an Ann Summers® shop. I think they are more surprised that I have heard of Ann Summers than they are that I drafted risqué patents. I look very old to them. Probably everyone looks old to them, but the vet and the epidemiologist don’t look like archaeological finds, and I do.
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