Frozen by the ice bucket challenge.

From my Journal column today, in which I talk about living my life at too slow a pace compared to the rest of the world to be able to do the Ice Bucket Challenge:

Day One. Attempt to find a bucket. Realise I don’t want to use the one which has been sat in the back yard for several weeks and contains three dead spiders and some unidentified plant matter. Go to buy one from Tescos only to find they sold out some days ago. Meanwhile the BBC announces a new Saturday night show- Strictly Ice Bucketing- to feature the only nine celebrities left in the world who haven’t already done it.
Day Two. Realise the contents of half an ice cube tray that’s been there since that barbecue will not fill a bucket. Tescos is sold out of ice too. Meanwhile the G7 threatens to expel any world leaders who haven’t yet done the Ice Bucket Challenge. Vladimir Putin swims across the Siberian Sea instead.
Day Three. I fail to find suitable clothing. Decide it needs to be something that does not go see through or look like I’ve made too much effort. Order a dress online. Meanwhile, every single person on my Facebook feed has now done the challenge, even the people who have never posted a spoof video of themselves doing “Gangnam Style” or a picture of their cat, baby or shoes.
Day Four. My dress has arrived but I’m having a crisis of conscience about suitable ways to help charities. Spend the afternoon looking up Motor Neurone Disease and ALS and bemoaning the shallowness of Western civilisation. Meanwhile, new figures show at least 50% of the world’s population have now done it and Eskimos have invented the “No-Ice” Bucket Challenge to highlight climate change’s destruction of the North Pole.
Day Five. Spend six hours attempting to set up a charity account and PayPal page. Meanwhile, astronauts on the International Space Station have circled the earth four times in order to generate ice crystals, but eventually done the challenge with some reconstituted milk flakes from their NASA food pack.
Day Six. Assemble bucket, ice and outfit but then realise I have nobody to video me. Pay some experts in pointing and laughing to come the next day. Meanwhile, all other citizens of the world, apart from a man in Tunbridge Wells who has written to the Radio Times to complain about it replacing Gardener’s Question Time, have done it and condemned anybody following them as both uncharitable, and further behind fashion than Peter Stringfellow’s thongs.
Day Seven. I finally do it! My ice bucket challenge video takes six hours to upload to Youtube. Unfortunately by then the plundered ice caps have melted and there is nobody left alive to watch it.