I feel a little cheeky writing this since I’m not a paid-up Moodscoper. You may know me as Spock, Val’s husband. The moniker is not a tribute to the (admittedly) ever-reliable stream of logical analysis and wisdom I bring to our marital bliss, but rather to my fairly obvious Asperger’s traits. But this year Val somewhat strangely decided to show me off at the Moodscope get together in London…

It’s interesting how over the years I’d forgotten just how much energy I expend getting through something like this! We have a very predictable life, and few remaining family. Most of my person-to-person encounters are with long acquaintances, so I was unprepared for just how nervous I was when we walked in. My normal feeling is that everyone else is so much better at this than me and probably feels horribly bored and uncomfortable if cornered into talking to me for any time.

My defence is alcohol, if available, and I’m fairly practiced at keeping a slow flow of beer going enough to loosen inhibitions and avoid getting too tedious. I’ve always been lucky that usually I fall asleep before I get drunk and I can slink away before I start to become embarrassing.

(PS this isn’t code for being alcoholic – I’m not and never have been despite liking a drink!)

Ironically I didn’t need it. The people I met were so easy to talk to - I could not shake the impression that anything worrying me was probably very banal to what others might be struggling with. In short, you “Scopers” (or “the nutters” as I called you when you came up in conversation with Val), humbled me with your dignity, kindness and open humour. I truly had one of the best days ever.

My plan almost failed though. Beer was not on menu and despite the fabulous Caroline fetching me a pint, I was embarrassed that she might keep running off to get me another if she saw my glass getting low, so I started on the red wine (note the logical failure here -  I could have just walked to the bar and bought my own…). Evidently there is more alcohol in wine per sip and although I probably just about got away with it*, when we came to leave the walking was becoming slightly amusing. By the time we reached Euston apparently (because I have no memory of it) I was doing the full John Cleese funny walk routine and declaring loudly with amazement to everyone the lack of a platform number coming up for our train.

* Note. My apologies if my perception is wrong and that I appeared throughout the afternoon as loud and stupid as I eventually became afterwards (or worse offended anyone). Val seemed to think I was more or less my usual stupid self.

The moral of this for me is if I ever come to another of these I’ll be already relaxed before I walk in, knowing I’m going to meet a bunch of the nicest, most open and honest people. Battle-scarred from life, but philosophical and laughing out loud. Thank you all so much.

Spock

Husband of a Moodscope member