A Cabinet for Trophies

Before the blogsphere rumour mill cartwheels out of control I need to let you know that the recent quiet window was down to a near fatally injured computer – this has now been resuscitated but is suffering some amnesia – I just hope my laptop doesn't take on the persona of that bloke from Memento which I watched on the plane back to India. Can computers get tattoos ??

Anyway back in Bangalore the highlight so far has been the smile on Mrs Reivers face when she was able to locate an old shower curtain to press into action for protecting the small balcony from the monsoonesque squalls. This will clearly be used as yet another justification for her 'Hoarders of the World Unite' campaign against ever throwing anything out as if she needs one!

I am settling (if that is the right word) back into my 'Trophy Husband' role – although the unkind question has been posed – if I was the trophy what was the second prize – some people honestly.

My TH day goes something like this:

0630 – Slip on my exotic tropical robe and prepare Mrs Rs orange juice and tea

0645 – Counsel Mrs R in the 'What Can I Possibly Wear Today' game

0700 – Make Mrs Rs brekkie

0715 – Find Mrs Rs shoes (the maid hides them somewhere new each day)

0720 – Wave off Mrs R then return to bed

0730 – Listen to midnight news on Radio 4 on internet

0800 – Read (at present Arthur and George, and Accordian Crimes with White War next in line)

0900 – Prepare myself for the day and pack gym bag

0930 – Try to slip out of the house without the driver or guard noticing (managed it this morning – sure makes you feel safe) and walk to gym

1000 – Through armed security and metal detectors into Gym in bowels on the Leela Hotel, greeted by 4 different flunkies en route

1015 – 1215 Sweat, grunt, drink lots of water, iced tea, watch strange daytime movies on the treadmill (ie From Hell), cope with the power cuts (lights go out and treadmill keeps going is interesting, as is it going pitch black when half way through final set on the bench press machine today)

1230 – 1430 Slip into my lounging clothes and go to pool, swim, lounge with the other refugees, read, avoid eating anything (they are having a laugh with their poolside prices)

1430 – Walk back to house and have daily conversation with Maid I (Hi Anandi – Hello Sir)

1500 – Light Facebook sparring and decide what to throw together for dinner

1530 – BR extreme cooking accompanied by yesterdays Front Row (R4) and another R4 from internet

1700 – Loiter on veranda in cane chairs aftermuch anti bug spraying, try to avoid brain going to mush by reading, online games, blogging, catch up Star Trek watching on lap top ….

1730 ish – Have daily conversation with Maid II (Going now Sir – Goodnight Anandi)

Sometime later – Telephonic therapy with Mrs Reiver about the injustices of her day

Between 30 and 90 minutes later – Mrs Reiver arrives home and domestic bliss ensues

But enough of this I have a veggie banquet to prepare for guests tonight so will have to park my trophyness on the shelf for today.

Windy Scores on the Doors

Exploring the aforesaid cerebral rotating equipment devices as we cruise at 35000 ft over the middle east on a flight back for quickie Easter R&R in the UK, it is timely to review my performance during Q1 2009. Utilising an established scorecard approach my self evaluation is as follows:




Outstanding
- My reading rate and breadth is growing almost exponentially, and I am even starting to enjoy some Indian books – 2 in the last week White Tiger and In Custody, and I am toying with a Hemingway and Lawrence habit
- My detailed knowledge of Star Trek the Next Generation is approaching geek level
- Celebrity watch – my rugby training is with international players, I now know personally a published author, and have appeared with Mrs Reiver in the gossip column of the local paper

Above
- My word search performance on Facebook is close to 10k (sad or what)
- My cooking has been generally declared as adequate by Mrs Reiver
- I am getting fully moneys-worth from our new gym membership and have achieved new personal bests in sweating
- Our housewarming was a success

On Target
- The essential chocolate and cheese supplies in the fridge have been maintained
- Blogging has been maintained despite a slight drying up of the well of inspiration
- Rugby coaching has developed to include refereeing with hand actions and everything, although whether the Indian kids can differentiate these from Heads and Shoulders Knees and Toes is open to question
- We now have cable TV

Poor
- New headband to cope with gym sweatiness makes me look like a refugee from Fame
- Duetting Hotel California with Mrs Reiver’s Boss at Karaoke was definitely a crime against music
- Being refused entry to new Military based rugby training facility because I was the wrong colour
- Spending the weekend helping Mrs Reiver review architects plans for various new toilets at her work

Below
- Tolerance of Indian traffic, work processes, power cuts, security guards etc etc has left me occasionally howling at the moon and shouting at motorbikes – does pedestrian rage exist??
- Visit to Singapore – plastic, plastic, plastic!
- The Alchemist (play at the Leela) and the Book – schrott, schrott, schrott
- There is nothing worthwile on cable TV
- My knees still not right after the great January rugby de-skinning

So the challenge for Q2 – as the song goes will be to accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative and don’t mess with Mr In-Between. With IPL, T20 World Cup, Lions Tour and possible cooking/guitar lessons, Prince II training, new sports club, refereeing course and junior revier visit to come – all is not lost – as Mrs Reiver is fond of saying ‘80% of success is turning up’. As Brucie would have said ‘Good Game, Good Game’

Whatever happened to those Heros

The (super)hero in India seems to be a particularly cricket based genre anticipated by the before their time Stranglers. The press reaction to Saruv Ganguly being removed from the captaincy of the IPL team the Kolkota Knight Riders by the dastardly Australian Coach John Buchanan was along the lines of 1,000,000,000 people simultaneously booing at a pantomime villain. The subsequent intimate TV interviews with an upset Saruv were reminiscent of Princess Di at her best. Perhaps JB could send an intelligent car to sort out Saruv or even captain the team – I would pay to see that - KITT fielding at extra cover would certainly cover the ground and if the floodlights failed could also help out.

Indian heros seem more along the Elton John stroppy diva type than the original Nietzchian concept of the Ubermensch ie something along the lines of- ‘A combination of ruthless warrior pride and artistic brilliance’ . The artistic brilliance seems lacking – where is C Aubrey Smith (England Cricket Captain and Hollywood Actor) or even Jack Russell (Scruffy England wicket keeper who lived on baked beans and could paint a bit) when you need them.

Of course in India the other real heroes are the kings of Bollywood, and Shahrukh Khan reigns supreme and surprise surprise is the owner of the Kolkata Knight Riders – so Saruv may well get a Bollywood happy ending – coming in to bat astride two magnificent dancing elephants – again I would pay to see that (apart from the airfare to SA).

I notice that my son has (very probably incidentally as philosophy was not a big topic around the breakfast table) declared his Superman ambitions on his Facebook site in which he described himself as ‘A Warrior Poet – A new breed of Athlete’. Whilst ambition is always to be applauded I would suggest that he aims for a more British form of superhero. I encountered a tentative role model whilst walking back from the shops last week – Is it a Bird, Is it a Plan – No its Bicycle Repair man – Watchmen come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough!