After a conversation on Sidepodcast, I remembered that I still own the one and only autograph I ever got. My friend and I were taken to see Michael Rosen, and I think he must have been doing a talk, or reading some poetry aloud or something. I know that I liked whatever it was he was doing, and afterwards, my friend hurried forward to get an autograph. I was sort of close behind her, although far too embarrassed to ask for it myself.

Still, I returned with a signed scrap of paper.

And that’s all it is! A scrap of paper. I understand the desire to get people to sign things, sort of. Obviously I do think it’s important, otherwise I wouldn’t have kept this for so long.

(And it is quite a long time, look…)

Autographs don’t do it for me though. I’d far rather have come away with a photo of the man himself, or the atmosphere, or my friend or… anything. It might help me remember more about the event itself.