After spending (part of) a weekend in a place where there’s a lot of emphasis placed on the signing of… things… I’ve been thinking about it. I’m now going to write down some of my thoughts in a way that shows how disorganised and inefficient my mind is, as I will probably miss out my main points and drift away into talking about nonsense that doesn’t matter.
Well, the whole of this blog doesn’t matter, but you get the point.
I understand those who might want to get something signed for the fact they get to meet the person doing the signing. Share a word or three with them, tell them how much they wanted to bum them as a kid, all that shit. Okay, I get it. I have people I want to meet, even though I’m cynical enough to consistently claim them all to be shit wastes of space and it to be a waste of time to want to meet them.
Did I mention I met Bret Hart?
Anyway, the actual signing, beyond doing it so you can sell it on eBay, confuses me. It’s a person, writing their name in squiggly writing, on something you’ve given them. A photo with them? Fine. Saying hello to them? I wouldn’t as I’m a coward, but okay. Getting them to hastily scribble their name on some merchandising shit? Yeah, don’t get it.
I have two signed things I can think of: a CD of NOFX’s The Decline, signed by guitarist Eric Melvin. It might not be by him, I don’t know. But I also don’t care: I bought it because it was going cheap on eBay, not because it has a man’s name on it.
I also recently came into the possession of the first series of Fist Of Fun on DVD, which was signed by Richard Herring when I bought it. I didn’t ask him to do this, but he did so as a matter of course when I bought it from him. I actually had the thought of saying “no, don’t do that” when he started, but that would be a bit rude of me.
Plus, to be honest, it says “NICE!” on it, which makes me laugh.
But generally? Nah.
I charge £15 for an autograph, by the way.