SOME people can write comedy sketches, and others can’t.

I think I’m one of those who can’t, though I’ve never really put it to the test.

When I was about ten, and my brother five, I half-inched my father’s Philips reel-to-reel tape recorder and made my first and last foray into the realm of comedy recording.

It was a mish-mash of playground one-liners and silly voices, with amateurish sound effects using spoons, crumpled cellophane and suctions pads withdrawn violently from smooth surfaces, which for some reason had my brother and me in paroxysms of laughter.

We were the only ones. After I’d confessed to the temporary misuse of the tape recorder, we played our ten-minute sketch to our parents, who were polite and guarded. We played it to a few friends, who looked at each other blankly and then left the house.

So we weren’t funny, and we didn’t do it again.

There are times, however, when I’d love to try a quick visual sketch or two.

Take convenience stores.

Wouldn’t it be great to have people going into a convenience store and coming out wheeling urinals and toilet pedestals? No? No, you’re absolutely right. Not funny at all.

How about baby changing facilities?

You have a selection of mothers who go into these facilities and come out with completely different babies. Baby changing, you see. No?

How about world dryers, then? World dryers are a major brand of dryer, and you’re most likely to see hand dryers in what Americans call ‘rest rooms’.

Nothing to do with global warming, but wouldn’t it be funny to have somebody with a model of the Earth held underneath the dryer, slowly turning wrinkled and brown?

No, you’re right about that: it’s too politically sensitive.

I’d better scrap the great wheeze I had involving beer pumps and lager sandals.