I'm just a boy who cain't say no

I've just been commissioned to write two articles on cars for a magazine.

Now, before everyone starts scaling tall buildings along my route to enable them to shower me with ticker tape (can you still GET ticker tape in this age of computer screens and online trading? If not, what a great loss. What will they do when China puts a man on the moon, and then puts another one on the moon an hour later?)

Anyway, I digress.

Again.

Sooooo...

Before you get all excited, I should admit that these commissions are based far more on WHO I know than my Hemingwayesque writing skills. The next Jeremy Clarkson I am not.

Well, not yet anyway. FAR too tolerant (stop laughing at the back).

However, I need to deliver both articles by the 31st.

I am in Belfast at the moment, sitting in an airport lounge and am off again for a large chunk of next week. Which means I have committed to writing two professional, glossy executive magazine style articles over the weekend.

On a subject that, frankly, I don't know much about. If, 10, maybe 15 years ago I'd been asked to write about supercars, I could have done it easily.

20 or 25 years ago, and you probably would have found me struggling to write about much else. I could quote the BHP, 0-60 times and pros & cons of the Ferrari 308 GTS (the Magnum car - see, now you know the one) compared with a 911 Turbo. I could tell you that a Lamborghini Countach SS was ferociously fast, but that you couldn't see out of the back and needed to hang out of the door to reverse.

The clutch would also break your leg if you didn't watch it like a hawk.

But that was a long time ago and now, I know a Ferrari when I see one, but couldn't tell a Scuderia (and before you think it, I just read the name on the front of a magazine) from a Raspberry Ripple.

So, here I sit in Belfast, £10 lighter and 10lb heavier from Car magazines, facing a weekend of research and writing.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love writing and love the idea of being PAID to write even more.

But WHY do I always commit myself to things I simply don't have the time or resources to do?

Will you join me in the chorus?

All together....

He's just a boy who cain't say no,
he's in a terrible state
He just commits to everything
He's far too much on his plate.

Still, if I get paid, does that make me a proper writer? Damn, I hope this doesn't just become a 'job' to me.

Although, then again, if you pay me enough

Now, where did I put those magazines?