Jem Beedoo: Fed, watered and pampered

All you'd need to do was look at yourself in the mirror while the lovely, lovely supermarket staff filled your shopping order, as the hairdresser chopped away.

There should be a place for people too lazy to wash, where they wheel you through a body wash and hose you down with l'Occitane-laced water blasters, powder you all over with special powder, brush you gently with lavender and then dry you with hair dryers.

They could spoon feed you, too, for an added price. They could blend up your hash brown and eggs benedict and serve it to you via small plastic spoons.

Oh, there could be entertainment while you ate. A parrot singing Frank Sinatra's In The Wee Small Hours from start to finish, or the voice of Stephen Fry reading A Good Keen Man. You would then be dressed by Italian suit fitters, put into a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce Phantom limousine and taken to the track with Ma'a Nonu and Brendon McCullum as your hosts, where they place all your bets at their expense.

Equally, there should be a place for people too lazy to make arrangements. It could be a bar or a room with no specific function, other than sitting there on your own to the strains of Herbie Mann. You could sit as long as you liked, but you'd have to be solo.

Wait staff would be summoned by buttons, the toilet would be wheeled to you and you wouldn't be allowed to use your phone or look around. Just wait for nothing. No plans; plans are made to be forgotten. Then solitude would be totally socially acceptable.

There should be a supermarket space where they not only do your hair, but collect your goodies for you, mam and man. All you'd need to do was look at yourself in the mirror while the lovely, lovely supermarket staff filled your shopping order, as the hairdresser chopped away. You'd be allowed to tell the hairdresser absolutely everything, as normal, with impunity. Talk about multi-tasking! Food being shopped for, hair being cut and soul being reformed.

They would pay you to take the goodies. Goodies gift-wrapped so when the kiddies come tumbling in from school, they would be hoodwinked into opening "presents". However, there would be treats for them in the gift packages to grease them into unpacking the shopping for you. Fabulous stuff.

Out with the spa pool, they require too much effort. One needs to invent a spa pool suit; one with the texture, liveliness and moisture one experiences in a jacuzzi. It's not impracticable - they made water beds in the 70s. This blue suit would look like a suit but feel like warm water from neck to ankle. Its relaxing properties would bring about world peace. I mean, think of all the world wars caused by constrictive, uncomfortable suits? With watery, warm suits on, the best would be brought out in our leaders: warmth, magnanimity, equanimity, truth, justice and loyalty. Comfort like no other!

Fair weather rooms could be made for people, where the sun always shines, the temperature always hugs and the sky always blues. I'm speaking of digitally enhanced rooms of perfect weather, replicating the greatest beaches of Florida or the loveliest climes of Mediterranean France, atom by atom, smell by smell, taste by taste. Never would an utterance of weather-related complaint be heard again.