Andy Richardson: Be careful what you wish for – just in case

Most aphorisms are just plain weird and don't stand up to any sort of scrutiny, like this: A barking dog never bites. Really? Why not? It's a dog. You try taking its food when it's hungry, then we'll see whether it bites or not.

Then there's 'a dog is a man's best friend'. No it isn't. Much as I like dogs, Michael is my best friend. Michael has the best collection of CD box sets in the world and is a thoroughly decent bloke to boot. I can talk to Michael about the merits of New Order circa 1986. Michael also does a brilliant smorgasbord of smoked salmon and cheese.

If I tried talking to Fido about New Order he'd just cock his head at 45 degrees and look quizzically at the nutter talking to dogs about Britain's best electro-dance-rock band. And if I went near the damn dog with a smorgasbord of cheese he'd knock it out my hand and eat the lot faster than I could say: 'Sainsbury's Wooky Hole Cave-Aged Cheddar'. Woof.

There are more, like this: a friend in need is a friend indeed. No. Again, I'm just not with it. It makes no sense. Speaking logically and basing myself in the here and now, rather than some far off future fantasy: a friend in need can go and find the shoulder of another friend to cry on because I'm busy writing a column and haven't got time to satisfy his/her emotional needs. Unless he/she is going to tell me a funny story about what happened when they tried talking to their dog about New Order. In which case, I'm all ears. But don't let it go anywhere near the cheese.

My favourite, however, is the age-old: be careful what you wish for. I like it because it's the only one that's true.

My friend was lamenting the sad deaths earlier this year of the iconic rock stars Lemmy and David Bowie. She'd been eulogising Bowie and segued into an absurd wish. "I just wish my dad could be a bit more David Bowie." If ever there were a time for the 'careful what you wish for' maxim that was it.

Her old fella is a marvellous man. He loves his family, mows the lawn once every three weeks and remembers significant anniversaries. What more could she wish for in a 69-year-old veteran?

She continued her stream of conscience: "But David Bowie was so smartly dressed. He was a fashion icon. I wish my dad could dress a bit more like David Bowie."

Hmm. Really? I'm not so sure. Bowie was an iconoclast, for sure. He was Britain's greatest artist of the past 50 years and wore the coolest threads in Christendom. But he was the sort of exulted genius who was best watched from afar: he'd have been a nightmare as a dad.

Imagine, for instance, if my friend's dad took her advice. What would happen if he really started dressing a bit more like Bowie? How would she feel if he rocked up for an intimate Sunday dinner at The Punchbowl Inn with a red Aladdin Sane streak painted across his face? And what would she say if he decided to give her away on her wedding day while dressed in a matching dress and telling her about the merits of The Man Who Fell To Earth?

Perhaps she'd want him to take inspiration from Bowie's Ziggy era, espousing the virtues of bisexual promiscuity while wearing a stars and stripes leotard during a tête è tête with Aunt Julie. Or maybe she'd like her dad to be more like Bowie circa Jareth The Goblin King. She could meet him for her weekly supermarket shop while wearing her best corset and pretending to be Jennifer Connelly. Her dad could arrive holding a shimmering glass orb. He'd have backcombed hair and a brooch at his neck and he'd burst into an impromptu Magic Dance next to the frozen vegetable aisle.

We get two choices in life. We can wish for something different or be grateful for what we've got. The latter is always the most sensible. For when we wish for something else, we have to beware of another useless aphorism: the law of unintended consequences.

All things considered, my friend is probably better off with an upstanding guy who has his car cleaned once a fortnight and who wears comfortable slacks and an open-collared shirt. The last thing she needs is a guy phoning her up saying: 'Ground control to Major Tom'. She'd just get confused. And besides, her name's not Tom.