ON the face of it, making an agreement to collect one s son at the end of celebrations to mark his 21st birthday is not the most attractive of propositions. Consider the scenario: it means staying up until way past one s normal bedtime waiting for the pho

ON the face of it, making an agreement to collect one's son at the end of celebrations to mark his 21st birthday is not the most attractive of propositions.

Consider the scenario: it means staying up until way past one's normal bedtime waiting for the phone to ring and then trying to hear over the deafening cacophony of noise roaring down from the other end of the line.

And when that call finally comes one has to venture out to Stevenage Leisure Park where young people sway and lurch around alarmingly, having not a care in the world if they step dangerously into the path of a vehicle almost upon them.

Don't get me wrong: I don't mind a bit being the occasional unpaid amateur cab driver for one's nearest and dearest. The gratitude shown is enough for me. That is all I expect.

But one never knows what could be just around the corner.

There was an unexpected surprise when I made that very trip on Friday.

The offspring was spotted walking away from Liquid and Envy with his mates, suitably merry but not OTT.

One of his chums suddenly leapt to the driver's door and with a flourish produced a copy of last week's Perspective page which he had secreted about his person the whole evening for that very purpose.

He drew out a pen and Steve, for that was his name, said he was a big fan and asked for my autograph.

And I don't think he was joking, well not completely.

Then I realised that this charming, discerning young person was the one who I had learned some time before read my column every week with relish and had declared me to be a "legend".

What else could one do but happily sign the piece of newsprint? I'm not sure how it turned out because I could not see very well in the dim light and the ink in the pen was reluctant to flow onto the paper.

But the deed was finally completed and his hands gratefully accepted what was returned to him.

He was so pleased that he declared that it would be sure to sell on eBay if offered.

The astute young man's words got me thinking. Yes, of course it would sell for here was a desirable object, the only one of its kind in the world. No one else has a copy of Perspective signed by the author.

And there have been some pretty stupid things which had sold on the internet auction house for ridiculously high amounts.

What if it was put up for bids and attracted interest?

Well, the next move could be a strictly limited issue of say two dozen Perspective pages, carefully autographed under a bright light. And each could be dedicated to the highest bidder. That would have to be good for my pension fund.

But what if no one wants to buy them? That could put a whole new perspective on the matter.