BACK in the swimming pool this morning. An impressive 18 minutes 50 seconds for the regular 800 metres front crawl. That’s 40 seconds faster than Friday. I’m expecting a call from the Retired Blokes Swimming Club’s doping committee at any moment.
I shall have to confess to taking a stimulant – two glasses of Chenin Blanc with The Current Mrs Feeney’s roasted vegetables with chicken and chorizo last night.
Mrs F being of the school of thought that when you cook, you cook for the unexpected, such as six hungry strangers turning up on the threshold, I’ll be repeating the dose with what remains of Mrs F’s r.v. with c. and c. tonight.
After our swim, the members of the RBSC gather in the showers to discuss the hot topics of the day. John The Boarder, so-called on account of him having gone to one of those posh, fee-paying schools where they deprive you of your childhood (“Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing boy” – William Wordsworth unless I’m very much mistaken) and relieve your parents of a sizeable amount of folding money for the privilege. Nice work, if you can get it.
I digress. I meant to say that J The B made the startling assertion that Scotland are the current world champions at Elephant Polo. I could tell there was scepticism among the assembled, but none of us felt sufficiently informed about such an esoteric pastime to suggest he was talking out of his soap-filled ear.
Though Geoff did venture to suggest there were surprisingly few elephants roaming the Scottish highlands.
Chat moved on, as it is wont to do, to last night’s supermoon eclipse. Nobody had managed to stay awake to see the full orange spectacular. J The B got as far as an interesting shade of lemon, but none of us thought that really counted.
I wondered why the moon had appeared so much larger than usual. J The B said it was to do with radius and area. Increase the radius of a thing by so much, and you increase the area of same thing by so much times two. Pi R Squared explained all, he said.
Geometry never having revealed its coy charms to me as a boy (algebra ditto) I restricted my response to a sage nod or two and continued with the shampoo and conditioner.
Experience has taught me that no good comes of debating with the product of an expensively acquired education. It’s not the knowledge imparted in same; it’s the confident assertion that It Is So.
Sometimes, I think that’s all somebody would need to run a country.