WIN MY MUM A CAMPER VAN

In between complaining about car insurance companies giving away toys to grown-ups, the Intrepids sometimes like to watch old quiz shows on a TV channel called Challenge.

A favourite choice is 'classic' episodes of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? It's one way of re-living the 2000s I suppose - seeing Chris Tarrant's grinning face as he waves a cheque at members of the public.

"The next question's worth £10,000," he said, last night (and twelve years ago), "Remember, you do have two life-lines and you don't have to play it."

Down go the lights in time with the tension-music.

"What was the name of Britney Spears's first number one single? Was it A) Oops I did it again, B) Toxic, C) Sometimes, D) Baby One More Time?"

Ten thousand pounds that's worth. Knowing the answer to that is worth ten thousand pounds. It's outrageous - what does it matter? What actual value in the real world is knowing that information? In actual fact, what value in the real world is knowing any bit of random trivia?

The music pumped. The contestant looked pensive.

"Baby One More Time," said my Dad, authoritatively (and weirdly). Unbelievable.

"Yeah, that's what I would have said," I nodded.

"When are you going to go on a quiz show?" asked my Mum, looking at me, "You could win me £10,000."

"For what?"

"A camper van of course."

"Right."

You know sometimes, the world seems topsy-turvy. Young men with well-co-ordinated feet get paid thousands of pounds per week for running around and swearing at a football. Knowing useless information on television is rewarded by small fortunes, and car insurers sell their products on the promise of fluffy meerkats and toy robots.

It did get me thinking though. I mean, I remember a lot of unimportant stuff - maybe I could go on a show and win my Mum a camper van?

Or maybe I could just work a little harder.