Thursday, March 25, 2010

Burns, Buses and Backpacks


Reeking Lums,

Its not highlighted in my googlecalendar, but it is obviously National Stupid Injury In The Home Week. First I sustain a head injury from our Artexed ceiling that made me look like I had just exited a car through the windscreen and now I have received horrendous napalm like burns to my left hand.

Let me build a picture, as if we were in some horror end of season Holby City, of the terrible sequence of events.

The Reeking Lum, faced with the challenge of making tea for himself and a fussy 12 year old and not being blessed with the talent or charm of Nigella Lawson, sneaks into M&S and procures some vital dinner in a jiffy ingredients. 2 steak pies (20 mins at 180) , 1 tub of M&S ultimate mashed potatoes (20 mins at 180) see what I did there, its all in the preparation, and finally, I microwaveable tub of carrots and peas (3 mins at full power in an 850W microwave). So, following the fool proof instructions on the back all the elements of the plan start to come together. Until that is I chose a totally implausible and unsuitable implement to remove the tub of mashed potato from the oven. I almost had it over to the touchdown zone, when my eyes were drawn to the black sooty pastry on the steak pies, and the inevitable happened. The tub of near molten potato toppled off the flimsy fish slice and I, some would say foolishly, I say instinctively, moved my hand to catch it, which, unfortunately, I did. I caught it all over my palm, and for a moment, i had a clear and unobstructed view of what hell is like. There is a lot of swearing in Hell.

But that was yesterday, today requires a trip into the metropolis for the Reeking Lum.

Part of my severance package includes some coaching on the finery's of getting a job and today's sessions included "Advanced LinkedIn" which is like Facebook that you don't have to hide from your boss, and " Surviving Psychometric Testing and Assessment Centres".
It got me thinking about a presentation I made at an assessment centre years ago. It had Latin in it, a bit of Sun Tzu, a folksy tale about a bus on the way to the seaside and how some of the people on board wanted to drive, others to read the map and direct and some just wanted to sit up the back, smoking and flashing there backside out the window, and of course a liberal sprinkling of fib, and a soupcon of shameless self promotion.
I remember a pal telling me that a guy he was interviewing for a role, when asked to give an example of an inspirational leader and why said Hitler, cos he got things done. Well, he certainly got that right.

The journey to town, on one of the promised 21st Century mass transit carriers felt just like the journeys I remember the last time I was on a bus in the 1980s. A little less shoogly perhaps. I would have had confidence that Mr MacMillan would have had no idea my homework was completed on the journey to school. One curious aside and a consequence of the buses all carrying a pile of Metros at the front is that on one occasion a little old man, though I've got to say, sprightly, sprang aboard the bus, lifted a copy out the box, and sprang back off again. He probably does it every day, its like a paper shop that goes right past your window. Great that, I want one.

It was refreshing to be in Glasgow after a week and a half in Indian Country. Its always nice to see people that don't obviously come from a very concentrated gene pool and of course an opportunity to have my regular 6 syllable Starbucks.
Though come on Starbucks, when are you, and everyone else for that matter, bus companies, The London Tube, Oxford Street, going to ban people wearing huge and unwieldy backpacks that require rear view mirrors and reversing beeps to manoeuvre safely and without incident around other things. Honestly, they may be great for hands free grappling up the North face of The Matterhorn with the knowledge that your lunch box is safely stowed inside, and they are also great for banging you in the face on tubes, taking up two peoples space in lifts, and as today, very nearly knocking my Tai Chai Latte all over me. Only my lightening reactions and the fact that, after the week I've had, I had predicted that very thing happening as soon as I saw him come in, avoided a disaster. But it didn't really matter in the end, because I dropped it outside as I tried to get my brolly up without putting my bag down in the puddles. Brilliant.

Lang may yer lum reek

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