A Load of BaGgInS

"In a silly autobollockraphy, a cynic should write a load of pseudo self-deprecating flotsam. However, sod that, my dear Gandalf; I've got tea to brew." (Bilbo Baggins) Right so, despite my reputation as a connoisseur of fine moaning, there are many things I worship on a regular basis - so there! Right, here is a short tribute to all those things I admire and love: Tolkien, for making me a target of quiet ridicule, almost every day since I completed my masters dissertation in 1994 (on his mythology amongst other things); Jakarta's roads, which have given me something to moan about, especially in those awkward silences, after the rest of the world's targets have already been done to death; and the animals of Jakarta's streets (the cats, the morose-looking dogs, the giant primordial rats, the dim chickens, and the other unknown mangled 'X-File' entities that provide endless entertainment, and whose traffic awareness offers strange parallels with the local human populace. Also, let's not forget the Secondary staff room, which reminds me of English village coffee shops, the type that host myriad discussions about cake and fruit desserts, the latest exotic carpet patterns, skin cream prices, local egg-cup decoration workshops, and new age, existential yoga classes - all innocently waiting to be poked fun at, in the kindly tone of a Bill Bryson book.

What about getting fatter and fatter in this warm atmosphere, unless you do a disproportionate amount of exercise, and collapse in a lardy heap every week - or do the hash and get drunk AND fat (now you've gotta love that); or getting someone round from maintenance to change a light bulb - that would cost 100 quid in the UK and it would take two plumbers and an electrician (with an odd-job boy standing by) - and then it wouldn't be fixed properly. And finally, how about meeting mad expats like those who think it's thrilling to go out into the great blue yonder in a badly maintained boat during the 'windy' season, and still find it funny when the engine dies, the mainsail is shredded to bits, and the boat spins around like a Gatsby cocktail -a truly delightful delightful experience, which could only be improved by adding a few machine gun effects to give a real sense of the Dunkirk experience. In the words of the Burning Bush in Cecil's 'The Ten Commandments', 'I am that I am', although I don't pertain to be God, or even royalty. Paul McM 2003 Back to Home Page

His beloved toys