NOTHING IS POSSIBLE

Life is chugging along slowly and that is good. I really don't have the mental energy to write anything astounding in this blog. It seems that ennui has caught up with me. The world-weariness could be because of recent happenings in my personal world or could be that I have taken personally certain world happenings – global warming… commonwealth games pre-inauguration fiasco… Karnataka President’s rule…

Somewhere I read that a lazy gene is essential for human survival. Examples are many. Instead of going outside, where you could get hit by a car, laziness allows you to stay inside and do nothing… bearing no risk of death, except from maybe spontaneous combustion.

I believe that the ability to lazy around is a gift… bestowed by the Cosmos upon only a few privileged and worthy souls… the likes of which dot our planet with enormous lethargy, easiness and ‘light lelo’ attitude. In fact these qualities have altered the fabric of consciousness of the majority like me who keep buzzing around in life… for nothing, I should say.

But some believe laziness can be cultivated, with careful attention to form and function, and studious hard work. They say that it takes perseverance, sustained effort and a certain diligence to execute it properly (what a contradiction… laziness requires efforts!). I do not know which is true; whether it is naturally imbibed or cultivated… it could well be both… but it brings in a wholesale hierarchy of blissful benefits… incompetency, insignificance, and worthlessness.

Laziness creates a vacuum in a daily timetable. As any physicist or engineer knows, a vacuum is an area of zero pressure, which sucks things towards it. In order to maintain this time vacuum, you need to be exceptional at building a spacesuit of laziness. In order to do so, you need to be able to perform a talent perfected only by a select few geniuses like my son Prashanth- talking out of ones rear end. For example: “I am going to start studying tomorrow. However, today I am going to start planning to study tomorrow, which in itself means studying.” And you don’t have to change a wee bit from this stance tomorrow… you can say the same thing.

The most important thing about being lazy is not to convince others about doing nothing: it is to convince self. You will have to construct a veritable matrix of lies and mistruths, culminating in the denial of the fruitfulness of the activity or rather confirming the usefulness of non-activity. This is essential to maintain morale, optimism and any semblance of self-worth.

I would like to enlighten you on the advantages of being lazy. In fact only the lazy folks have been instrumental in certain discoveries which save this world tremendous time. Come on… do you think that CTRL+C and CTRL+V were invented by the programmer of the software? Don’t you agree that the revolution in today’s telephony communication evolved because of our sluggishness… a mobile phone with camera, GPRS, mp3 player, internet, calculator, voice recorder etc… only because someone was smart to say ‘I am lazy to access different gadgets. Let me have everything in one.’ Remote controls are there because of people like me… lethargic @55 reluctant to split from my sofa. Bluetooth because "Why do we have to always point the sensors?" It is the embodiment of laziness with infrareds… Internet banking because we're too lazy to queue… I-pods because "the walkman is too heavy"… Optical mouse because we're lazy to clean the balls :-)

The other advantage is lazy people bring balance to the social hierarchy. What is right if there is no left? Who is working hard if there are no lazy people? ‘Lazy people’ is a relative reference to judge ‘industrious people’.

Ok… fine. Someone said, ‘Who said nothing is impossible? I have been doing it for many years’. Let me start doing NOTHING. Can I have some non-lazy, quick comments on this? :-)

BALD IS BEAUTIFUL

There was a time, not that awfully long ago, that a shaved or bald head usually meant the following three possibilities: (1) You have really lost all the hair (2) You are a monk (3) You are back from Tirupathy. If you're a thinking person you might have noticed that these three dissimilar reasons for having a bald head all share something in common - a profound degree of intellectual, emotional or spiritual involvement.

Whatever the reason there are tremendous advantages in sporting this look. Be it a man or a woman! (Whaaaaat? A woman… I can hear a few screams… But allow me to explain)

Imagine the following scene:

Every morning you trudge into the shower and turn on the water to just the right temperature. You numbly start the daily ritual. Wet the hair… shampoo… rinse. Repeat. Hey! Watch out; don’t get the suds in your eyes. Dry hair… comb or brush out the tangles. Ow! Oooh! Eeek! Ouch! Grab the hair dryer and style every last hair into just the perfect location (If it is men, it is no less tedious… applying the wet gel and getting that unkempt look perfect is a drudgery). Finally, after dressing and a quick breakfast of Champions you step out the door to head for work. Just then you’re hit by a sudden gust of wind, and &%$! Your carefully coiffed hair disintegrates into total chaos and resembles tumbleweed.

Now you will agree that it is in fact better for a woman to sport this bald look. Why not? If Persis Kambhatta can successfully make a fashion statement of this look almost 3 decades back through Star Trek, why not you the 21st Century Woman?

Telly Savalas or Pritish Nandy may have had something to do with this as a style statement. I'm inclined to go with the latter… at least as far as the Indian society. Nandy, the poet-turned-journalist-turned-talk show host-turned-film maker-turned-politician-turned-painter-turned-poet-again, if not an inspiration for others for fostering such a popular trend in personal grooming...or uber-grooming, he has been for ME – because many people say that I look like him with my shaven head and the frenchee (or frenchy?).

Up until five years ago, I went through the same painful daily ordeal myself. Then, following my wife’s provocative suggestion that the hair has become sparse (like my blog name – here’n’there) and it is in patches, I crossed to the other side and became a free man. Freeeee of hair. I shaved my head. And I liked the result. So did she. So did my wallet. I am now looking good. Sleek, refined, sophisticated.

Another reason for me to sport this look is that it is hot. Women love to run their fingers over my smooth and shiny pate. And talk about practical, there’s Zero Upkeep required. My hairdo looks great no matter how windy it gets, and I never get hair in my eyes, either. I haven’t had a single hair out of place in the last five years.

For now it is only important that the omnipresence of shaved heads is acknowledged and sold to you all as a concept… if not I will elaborate that Zero Upkeep I mentioned a para earlier!

To maintain these stupid hair in place, what all you have to do... you trudge to the nearby drug store to shell out huge sums for expensive French shampoos, über-costly German conditioners, and Swiss non-ozone-depleting detanglers. Every month or so, you make even more expensive treks to the friendly neighborhood barber shop or beauty salon for a tune-up trim, a bolder cut, or a spiffy new style. Then many of you dig even deeper into your already depleted wallets for a perm, low-fat highlights, or ammonia-free coloring. At the eyeball-popping prices they charge, the hairdressers must be coming to the parlor in an Audi if you observe closely. And you repeat this madness several times a year. All to keep your hair clean, stylish, and manageable. Oh, humanity! Don’t you agree that it is fiscal insanity!

With the nation’s horrific current economic recession and tight family budgets, think of all the money you will be saving by shaving the head. Just a trivial amount more shaving cream and a little extra wear on the Gillette Mach 3 razor blade (can women also use them?). Maybe in a few yearsyou can buy an Audi instead (why give it to the parlor fellow), or at least a GM with your extra loot. Think about it. Join me in the ‘Bald is Beautiful’ campaign.

Mother's Milk... Agency's Blunder

Times Of India, Times Life Supplement that came on Sunday, August 1, 2010 carries a half page advertisement of Nestle’s in connection with ‘Breast Feeding Week’. The ad is from McCann and what is shocking is the ad’s caption and sub-head. The entire purpose of the ad is defeated by the wrong caption and sub-head. The headline reads ‘THE NUTRITION CHILDREN GET IN THE EARLY YEARS OF LIFE CAN AFFECT THEIR HEALTH FOREVER’. My question is shouldn’t it say ‘LACK OF NUTRITION’ rather than ‘NUTRITION’? Even assuming that it is followed by CAN AFFECT their life I would have been comfortable with CAN HAVE AN EFFECT ON THEIR HEALTH! Right now the meaning that is coming across is that NUTRITION, which in general sense is a POSITIVE word, can affect the child’s health. Now coming to the next part, even assuming that the general public gets the message as LACK OF NUTRITION, the subhead which says ‘AND IT ALL STARTS WITH MOTHER’S MILK’, gives a meaning that the LACK OF NUTRITION starts with mother’s milk! I really can’t understand how an agency of repute like McCann can do such a blunder. I would like opinion on this ad from all of you who are in the ad field.

Battle of the bulge

It is more than a month since I blogged. I was busy… busy being lazy! Busy putting on some weight doing mostly nothing.

Talking about weight, I happened to see a news item that said Nauru is the country where 95% of the population is overweight or obese. Nauru is the world's smallest island nation, covering just 21 square kilometers. I also saw another news item that said India is one of the fattest Asian countries. That doesn't mean, for example, that the streets are wider in India, it means that the asses of the people walking down those streets are wider than the asses of the people in other Asian countries. Pardon my French… I am upset about this info since I am a health freak. Almost 65 per cent of adult urban Indians are either overweight or obese or have abdominal obesity. But now, it is expected that an additional 10 to 15 per cent people will be labelled overweight or obese because of a new BMI index set especially for we Indians.

Medical fraternity says that we Indians exhibit unique features of obesity —we have more visceral fat. Studies show if a person of same BMI of Indian origin and British origin are compared, the fat content is much higher in Indians. Being a resident of one of the fattest countries, I guess I should feel honored since we are number one at least in something. It just means it is a lot easier to find a McDonalds or KFC here than it is to find a store that sells health gadgets. In fact it is equally easy to find a store for the ‘plus’ sized.

Maybe Indian Tourism can come up with a new marketing slogan like "Hey, come to India and make yourself feel thin." And when we go to war in the future we'll just have our military comprising of all fat people to sit on the enemies’ military and that will be that. Simple.

I guess I shouldn't be calling people ‘fat’ because it's not politically correct. The correct term would be overweight or, better yet, rotundly challenged… euphemism of course! In fact we should call people like me who are short (I can hear all of you saying ‘but sweet’) vertically challenged.

Ok… now the eternal quest of some people is to attain the impossible- the reduction of weight. And the best method they adopt is to diet. It is much easier than exercising. At least that’s what they think!

Some simple rules on dieting:

1. If you eat something and no one sees you eat it, it has no calories. (I am sure there can be no invisible calories!)

2. If you drink a diet cola with a candy bar, the diet cola cancels out the calories in the candy bar. (Obviously one minus one is zero!)

3. When you eat with someone else, calories don't count if you do not eat more than they do. (And remember to choose someone who hogs!)

4. Food used for medicinal purposes NEVER counts, such as hot chocolate, alcohol and Cheesecake. (Even your doctor can not complain!)

5. Be surrounded by fat people, then you look thinner. (Remember the India Tourism slogan!)

6. Things licked off knives and spoons have no calories if you are in the process of preparing something. (My wife believes this dictum completely!)

7. Foods that have the same color have the same number of calories. (Examples: spinach and pistachio ice cream; mushrooms and diced potatoes.)

8. Anything consumed while standing has no calories. This is due to gravity and the density of the caloric mass. (Which is why I prefer buffet parties!)

9. Anything consumed from someone else's plate has no calories since the calories rightfully belong to the other person. (My wife thinks so when she grabs from my son’s plate and my son can vouch for this!)

10. I remembered having read somewhere that "stressed" spelled backwards is "desserts." So if you don’t regularly have desserts, you will be stressed!

Ab-solutely ridiculous!

The weight-loss contraptions are too many in today’s market. Right now on various channels I find ads of Ab Isolator, Ab King Pro, Ab Shaper, Ab-flex – to name a few. Semi-circular, tubular abdominal exercise machines, each claiming to be better than the one on the next channel. All promising that it stores easily under your cot (not to be seen again until you want to sell it). Some look like the space ship piloted in Star wars, to crash land on that big bulbous thing that protrudes below your chest!

I don’t know what happened to those old-fashioned, simple contraptions that simply look like a paint-can shaker in Nippon Paint outlets. All you need to do was strap a belt around your mid-section and it will jiggle the fat right off you. You didn’t have to do a thing – although you can hold a burger in both hands and munch it!

The hyperactive women models in their shorts and short blouses or sometime just in black-lace underwear, look sexy showing their firmed-up midriff. These spokesmodels claim that they couldn’t fit into a pair of jeans (waist 28”) ten days ago and now they have lost ten kgs and four inches.

Doctors always spoil the fun by saying that there is no such thing as ‘spot fat reduction’ and the only way to achieve it is by reducing caloric intake. But, no, we don’t believe you docs. We are convinced that the chicks on screen look so seductive and also authentic; we will keep on buying the gadgets.

The girl on an infomercial (mind you, it is not a commercial – they are providing you valuable info!) says “I got an Ab-Surd and lost 15 kgs in 30 days!” – What she doesn’t reveal is that shortly after purchasing that Ab-Surd gadget she had typhoid fever and was forced on a typhoid diet of full fluids.

For quite sometime now, my wife is after me to get her an automated treadmill. The reason behind this is she could say ‘Goodbye’ to walking, running and jogging – it is a different matter that she never said ‘Hello’ to any of these in the first place. In any case I decided to look around for this contraption. I found out that they come in two models: expensive and more expensive. A treadmill is supposed to take the place of running. But the first thing you do when you see the price is run.

I also learnt that in terms of calories burned, two kms on a stationary exercise treadmill equals one km of actual walking. And, of course, with a stationary treadmill you don't have to walk back – probably why they made it half-effective!

Someone said that ‘Most Americans are out of shape because the only thing they ever exercise is their rights.’ And my wife is no different… she has decided to exercise her right to get an exercise machine!

To be or not to be…

The other day I had been to the restaurant Blue Fox with my friend. While looking for a table, the manager asked us whether we prefer a smoking zone or a non-smoking one. The recent trend, thanks to Indian Government’s ban on public smoking, is whichever public place you go, the question that most asked is “Smoking or non-smoking?” An airport or a restaurant, and even some malls too, have begun separating customers who smoke from those who don’t. Good. The passive smokers have suffered all along. Let us give them a respite. Oscar Wilde once asked: 'Do you mind if I smoke?' Sarah Bernhardt, the famous French Actress, replied: 'I don't care even if you burn'.

I read sometime back that there is a village in Tamilnadu called Puttulur (or some such name), that is tobacco and alcohol free. No dweller in the village is allowed to drink or smoke. But I am not sure whether one should be forced by society to do such renunciations. As someone said, "If you resolve to give up smoking, drinking and loving, you don't actually live longer; it just seems longer."

So determined are we in this classification of smoking and non-smoking spaces, that tomorrow I won’t be surprised even if we have cities or states segregated on the basis of smoking and non-smoking. The smokers, for instance, could go and live in cities like Mumbai and Chennai where the air already is so polluted, that no further damage can happen to their lungs. Non-smokers could stay in villages like Puttulur where the only pollution problem could be smelly people because of poor personal hygiene!

Mark Twain said, "It's easy to quit smoking. I've done it hundreds of times.” These days, I have quit smoking (for the last 7 months) and hence I am an advocate of this segregation. I am now with an uppity group having clean lungs that is also into jogging and health foods.

I was just wondering why not take this concept of segmentation or segragation a little further. Why not make this classification when it comes to other annoying habits?

Food slurping and non-food slurping... (sometimes the slurping sound is so crude and annoying, I would rather sit next to somebody from Puttulur who smells)

Loud-talking and not-loud-talking... (you’re there to eat, not to deliver Swami Vivekananda’s Chicago speech or Gettysburg address)

Throat-clearing zone and non-throat-clearing…

Unfortunately I am in the first segment. I always have that ‘Kichu Kichu’ in my throat. Inadvertently I keep clearing my throat often, I have been nick-named ‘Kichu Kichu Murali.’ Initially I thought I earned the title because of my sense of humour (since Kichu Kichu in Tamil means ‘Tickling’).


'Pan' spitting and non-pan spitting... (I hate people painting the walls in an apartment with the sprinkling of their saliva mixed with 'pan' thinking they are the Hussains and Picassos of this world)

Peeing-in-public and non-peeing-in-public... (sometime back when the controversy of Shilpa Shetty being smooched in public by Richard Gere was there, someone said “In India you can piss in public but not kiss”)

Gum chewing and non-gum chewing... (the other day while I was jogging in the park I stepped on the spit gum. I was trying hard to get it off from my sneakers and someone asked me whether I am trying some new form of dance!)

There is one segregation that I hate always. Old and the Young. The other segmentations are based on some activity. In this case one bases it on the age. That too the physical age. At least if it is on the mental age I can accept. More than anything as I keep saying, "Old age is 15 years older than I am". So let us all agree to have only one group - the young - so that I can always belong there!

Grunt… Groan… Breathe Hard

These days, magazines are loaded with a lot of crap under the guise of research. While I was waiting in the hotel lounge for my client, I breezed thru’ one of the magazines – the name I don’t recall now. In a shameless ploy to sell its issue the cover page highlighted ‘Through Sex You Can Know Your Partner.’ Inside the article said that if a man grunts during sex, he’s an introvert, if he’s quiet or breathing hard, he’s got worries, and if he’s talkative, he’s stupid and probably shallow. I was trying to see where I fit in. Interestingly I realized that I do most of those things mentioned at the same time during the act. I grunt or groan or breathe hard because I am +50 and I am vocal because that’s the only way I can keep the partner engaged!

I am reminded of a joke that I saw in TOI recently in Kushwant Singh’s column.

A man boards a Jet Airways airplane Delhi to Mumbai and takes his seat. As he settles in, he looks around and sees a very beautiful woman taking the seat right beside his. Eager to strike up a conversation, he asks "Business trip or vacation?"

She turns, smiles, and says, "Business. I'm going to the annual Sexologists Convention."

He swallows hard. Here is the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen, sitting next to him, and she's a sexologist!

Struggling to contain his excitement and maintain his composure, he calmly asks, "What's your business role at this convention?"

"Lecturer," she says, "I use my experience to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality."

"Really?" he says, swallowing hard. "What m-m-m-myths are those?"

Well," she explains, "one popular myth is that Negro men are the best endowed when, in fact, it's the Tamilian who is most likely to possess that trait. Another popular myth is that French men are the best lovers, when actually it is the Bengali. However, we have found that the best potential lover in all categories is the Sardarji."

Suddenly, the woman becomes a little uncomfortable and blushes. "I'm sorry," she says, "I shouldn't be discussing this with you. I don't even know your name!"

"Venkatraman!" the man blurts. "Venkatraman Mukherjee ! .. But my friends call me Santa Singh !"

So that’s what probably I am… an amalgamation!

Now coming back to the magazine crap…

One of the funniest and most ridiculous thing it was selling is the idea that one can do anything if they’re outfitted with the designer clothing, shoes, and accessories - like the newest shoes will allow men to run 20 miles even if he is obese, or that the ultralight, super-underwired designer sports bra will turn the ugliest girl into a star just by efficiently cupping her assets. You must have seen a recent TV commercial for bra showing a woman wondering why the man is staring at her breasts when travelling on the escalator, while in reality he is charmed by another woman coming behind her wearing the apt bra for the T Shirt she is wearing. So a bra for the T-shirt, another exclusive one for the kurti, and another one for shirt... so on and so forth!

The magazine also insisted thru’ another article that drinking green tea once a day or 15 minutes of yoga will make you look 10 years young, take 10 kgs. off your physique, and lead to a healthy sex life… yup.. everything is connected to sex someway! So you have a panacea in a cup of tea and some happy thoughts. The most ridiculous thing about this isn’t that they were ascribing impossibly positive outcomes to such miniscule effort, but that they inspire millions of people, like my wife, to act like they’re some sort of zen master because they stood on one leg for a minute and a half.

Lies and Life!

Last night I was told by my wife that I lie a lot. I was mulling this over for some time and concluded that it’s true that I lie (but won’t accept the ‘lot’ factor!) but let me hasten to say that in the bargain I have hurt none. I gloss over bits that might cause me pain to examine or that hurt someone else unnecessarily.

I always thought that my lies go undetected! But it seems that my wife is a state-of-the-art Polygraph "lie detector". Some people, like my wife, are better "lie detectors" than others, better able to distinguish a lie by facial expression, cadence of speech, certain movements, and other methods.

A key consideration to me in lying is that, if your dearly beloved has just spent an absolute fortune on an outfit that makes her feel absolutely fantastic, a little white lie like “Hey you look great” in response to “Does it suit me?” is not only acceptable, but it’s probably a relationship saver… Though I know that she'll scare someone in public in that dress I feel that it is part of tiny, benign lies that keep the peace or salvage a partner's feelings.


As some one said, stretching the truth (it sounds even better than white lie!) is a natural component of human instinct and the world is probably a better place because of our white lies. Given our rigid optimism to lead a smooth ideal life, white lies simply cushion us in this highly friction bound world.

But one needs to draw the line. Tiger Woods’ sexcapades and the lies that followed get into the EXTRACURRICULAR arena. Recently John Edwards' string of lies in sex scandal makes even Tiger Woods look like an amateur. A publication from New York has asked its readers to vote the best liar (or should it be worst liar since they have been caught!) in the Scandal Club that includes Bill Clinton as well.

Bonnie Eaker Weil, a psychotherapist and relationship expert, says "Lying gives a real high for these people." But I believe that the ends justify the means a lot… and my vote is for white lies... no let me call them RELATIONSHIP SAVERS!!

Here’s my favourite set of Relationship Savers:

He said that. – It’s not worth taking credit for.

I will be there in 5 minutes. – Anyway the other person has nothing much to do!

Oh! It’s a thoughtful gift. – Because telling someone that the wall clock gift sucks because I already have 10 of them would make me look arrogant.

Yeah, you look great in that dress. – Already explained... relationship retainer!

She means nothing to me. - Ditto

Of course I love you. - Ditto

I already sent you that info. – How can I tell you that I forgot?

My wife probably can add a lot more to this list since she is a 'lie detector'!

To wrap it up here is a joke on how a woman tries detecting her husband's lie!

A married man was having an affair with his secretary. One day, after having been to her house he realised that it was pretty late for him to return home. As the man got ready to leave, he told the woman to take his shoes outside and rub them through the grass and dirt. Mystified, she nonetheless complied. He slipped into his shoes and drove home."Where have you been?" demanded his wife when he entered the house."Darling, I can't lie to you. I've been having an affair with my secretary and we've been having a good time in the evening. I fell asleep and didn't wake up until eight o'clock." The wife glanced down at his shoes and said, "You lying bastard! You've been playing golf!".

120 ml Gin and Zzzzz…

Friends have been enquiring about how I spent the Christmas Eve and the New Year Eve. My answer is in this blog.

Hyderabad loves to party. The Hyderabadis party to celebrate when something good happens, such as India winning any Cricket one-day match or series (which nowadays Indians do, like clockwork, every time.) When something bad happens, they party to cheer themselves up. When nothing is happening, they party because they are bored. Sometimes they party because there is no reason to party!

I had a close friend in Hyderabad who used to be a party animal. If there was a party, he was there, and he did not leave until it was over. Even then, he did not always leave. Sometimes the people, who threw the party, if they wanted to get rid of him, had to move. Even then he would get into another party. Like Pub Hopping Party Hopping! And could he hold drinks… to say the least, he can put a beer cask to shame! Wikipedia will tell you that a beer cask, over a period of time, changed from 36 gallon capacity to 32 gallon. But it is the reverse for him.

Though I could never party the way these people do, I consider myself a Party Dude (mind you, not a Party Animal.) Beyond two drinks (which has always been my quota, ration or allowance since I started drinking) I will go speechless. I don’t become boisterous… I don’t make a scene. If I am forced to have my third drink, I just sleep after that. But people love me for that! You know why… there are always a few in such parties, who feel better because they can hold more drinks and I am giving them the opportunity to act concerned. They will try and wake me up by making me smell the lime… they will tell others that they will take care of me while going back home.

I was thinking about this recently at a party in Chennai. And mind you, in Chennai I don’t attend sedate parties like I used to in Hyderabad. These are parties where boys and girls, bunch up together in their most skimpy costumes that can be worn only after the evening twilight. There is so much of noise and ruckus you will feel out of place soon. There is some nudity at these parties as well… when a guest removes all of his or her garments, including diaper, and sprints around squealing, pursued by a parent terrified that the child is about to make peepee on the carpet of semi-complete strangers. Yes dudes… I am talking about the birthday parties of children. Only these I am allowed to attend after moving over to Chennai.

So there I was, holding a balloon puppy that had been made for some kid by the party clown. (All children's birthday parties are now required, under Indian Penal Code, to have a clown. If you don't have one, armed guards of the Indian Department of Child Whimsical Welfare will come to your home and forcibly paint your face.) That was when a chilling thought flashed across my mind: What has happened to me

How did I -- a person who would have once made the front page of the newspaper in AP, for having chosen to sleep on the Bar Counter of 10 Downing Street after SMELLING some liquor is now holding a Cone Ice-cream on one hand and Cotton Candy on the other – and how did I turn into a person enthusiastically thrusting a balloon puppy in reaction to watching a baby strip? Is my life really this dull now? Have I turned into a pathetic old person like Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman? Should I also draw up my Bucket List

Yes, this is how I, Former Party Dude, am currently spending my leisure time. And now my friends have the answer to how I spent those two important evenings!