I read recently an article lauding Beethoven's Piano sonatas. So great that apparently Lenin used to prevent himself from listening to them, lest they made him falter in his task of crushing his enemies. So great, that the pianist, Louis Kentner said that if Martians ever landed on Earth, we would immediately hand them the Beethoven sonatas, saying "Here, friends. This is the best of us".

This has intrigued me for a few days. Apart from wondering if the Martians would bring CD players or MP3 players with them in their invasion/tourist luggage, I'm fretting about the consequences of them meeting the wrong person. Just supposing the first people the Martians meet isn't a person of culture but someone who couldn't tell a Beethoven sonata from a beetroot. Or if they were unfortunate enough to bump into the person who bought Tracey Emin's unmade bed. Or they were introduced to George Bush.

Then I got to thinking but what if they bump into me first. Not such a remote possibility as you might think, as there have been reports of UFO sightings over the island in the last few weeks. (Although I cannot help wondering if Mr McFarlane and his pals have now realised that they were staring at the sun).

Now I am wondering how I will present myself to the Martians as the 'best of us'. It's a fearsome responsibility. Had I met them yesterday, when I had a bad hair day, I would have caused them severe shock. Had I offered them yesterday's dinner, they would have responded by enslaving all humans on a Martian Masterchef course.

Anyway, I'm now prepared. I've defrosted some Mini Dundee Cakes. I've washed my face. I've charged up my ipod and practised sign language for 'you choose the best one'. I've shut Dog in the kitchen. And I've put an extra chair by the computer so they can take a look at everyone else here in blogland.

If they try and zap the planet after that, it's clearly all your fault.