Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Clarkson's Beetroot

Jeremy Clarkson is not everyone's cup of tea. Fair to say that many regard him as a ponce who defends the gas-guzzling Chelesa tractor brigade against the common-sense view of responsible environmentalists. He does, however, write entertaining articles in the Sunday Times – often on subjects that have nothing to do with motoring.

Last Sunday he bravely wrote about how he found blood in the toilet and spent many enjoyable hours in a Heath Robinsonesque self examination of his rectal passage. It was quite funny, and he had the good sense to point out what a serious health risk bowel cancer is. The punch line came as he entered the kitchen to be told by his wife that their recent consumption of beet root had made a red mess in the toilet. Clarkson breathes a great sigh of relief. It really is quite funny.

This reminded me of when I lost my wallet at a cricket match last week. Have patience dear reader, there is a connection – believe me. Leaving the match – we got stuffed by the way – for the pub, I began to look about the car for my wallet and couldn't find it. Went to the pub anyway. Got out of the car and began to look carefully for the missing wallet. Found my glasses where they had fallen behind the passenger seat. No wallet. Took all the kit bags out. No wallet. Went in the pub and got a beer and did a re-think. Still no wallet.

On the odd chance that I had left the wallet home I rang “she who must be obeyed” at home. Asked her to look for the wallet and ring me back. Enlisted support from one of my team and we searched the car again. No wallet. Also, no phone call. Rang her back. “I thought you were going to have a look for the wallet and ring me back!”

“I'm upstairs looking under the bed right now!”

“I only wanted you to look in the usual places – is it in the dining room?”


Went back inside the pub, finished my pint and apologised to all – explaining that I had to go home now to report all my credit cards missing. Drove home in about an hour and started to ring all the credit card companies and banks to cancel the cards. This takes quite some time as most of the call centres are either in Glasgow or Poona. Eventually finished in about two hours and sat down for a well-deserved late supper and a glass of red wine. Of course with the new chip and pin system my money was (theoretically) quite safe – but, nevertheless it is quite a worry. I deserved the glass of red.

Went back into the computer room and started to rev up the digital highway. Noticed my wallet siting on the top of the computer table.


Clarkson's beet root may well be more humorous – but my “missing” wallet is streets ahead in the exasperation stakes.

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