It’s early in the morning and I’m writing at this time as opposed to my usual nocturnal trysts with creativity for two reasons. My gym, which I will elaborate on shortly, is not where I feel like being and my dad, on whom I can elaborate for the twenty years without me or you being bored, has taken away the one morning activity that I used to do with religious regularity – sudoku.
First the gym, before ye of little faith start calling me a mindless jock, well mindless I can be, jock I never was, except for some occasional running, is there because I like to stay fit. I do have enough risk factors in my life for an early trip to a cardiologist (those leeches… ) including a fondness for beer and red meat (come hither my tenderloin…) So anyway all this coupled with a bad knee that required physiotherapy got me to join a gym. It’s called, embarrassing as it is, Platinum Bodies. I’m running for cover and will be back once ye all are done rolling on the floor in mirth. My point is that gyms are modern society’s way of accepting sado-masochism as part of everyday life. One has to be a masochist to be a regular and enjoy it and of course the instructors there are as sadistic as can get. The initial couple of weeks are terrible. Beginner’s enthusiasm coupled with empty-pocket-weightlessness prompted me to push myself like I’ve never done before. The result was apparent. I was walking slower and more gracefully, turning with poise and in my head screaming in agony (oh my tenderloins, if you get the idea). Now it’s better. I’ve learnt the ropes and tricks on how to appear to be burning calories or building muscle without actually doing either to the extent of suicide. But this morning I don’t feel like being hounded by the coach so I’m here. There’s also an aside that has something to do with my car being out of fuel but never mind.
About my dad and sudoku… Now I resisted the craze for quite a while and then one fine jobless day picked it up and was instantly sucked in. Solved it with the same religious regularity mentioned earlier and was actually beginning to both get better and enjoy it. I used to sit down with crosswords earlier till dad, the root cause of most evil and the provider of food and shelter, switched papers to a near tabloid daily (no names) that has the worst crossword I’ve ever seen. So I was left with the number game. Till the gym started and I had to leave before the paper and who is to seize the grid then but paterfamilias. Now I’m given a polite choice of food and shelter or sudoku. And he’s terrible at it. Sits down and ponders for close to half and hour and blocks up the tabloid for general consumption. There’s a story of his scoring some abysmal score on an online IQ test but he might just read this someday so I’ll leave it out.
Enough ranting for today. Will have to vent the frustration on the treadmill later today.
Somewhere on the net is a 3D sudoku. Anybody know where?
