Baldyman

It’s been over 190 days since lockdown first began and I now live in a world where I’m encouraged to put on a mask before I go into a bank, I’ve forgotten how to use an iron, my Fitbit is missing presumed dead and according to every other TV advert it’s only a matter of time before I develop erectile dysfunction (If it’s good enough for Pele it’s good enough for me).

Just last week the government have taken measures to once again restrict social gatherings to a maximum of 6 people which as a consequence means;

• The S Club 7 reunion is once again on hold.
• Snow White and the Dwarves have some difficult decisions to make.
• I need to find at least 4 new friends before I can break the law.
• There will be a sharp increase in the sales of Barbour jackets, tweed hats and shotguns.

Like the majority of people, I will be glad when coronavirus finally stops controlling our lives. This will boost our mental health, help us return to normality and most importantly prevent me from being subjected to the countless Facebook posts from people boasting about how amazingly well they were coping.

“ After completing my 7am 1,000 daily sit up routine for the 165^th consecutive time, today I single handily ran two FSTE 100 companies from one laptop, home schooled my six children who are now all taking their A levels 4 years early while simultaneously learning fluent  Mandarin, grade 8 ukulele and baking three batches of banana bread.”

I’d never even heard of banana bread before the pandemic hit us, let alone ever felt the compulsion to try and make some of my own. 50% of people I know have at some point had the ingenious idea to buy a bread maker and 90% of these very soon realised this was not the wisest of choices. The romantic notion of waking up to the smell of your own homemade loaf is soon crushed when the time, cost, effort and soggy bottomed results leads to the realisation that nipping to the Co-op to get a sliced one for a quid is by far the better option. This newly purchased, cumbersome contraption is then consigned to the designated ‘seemed like a good idea at the time’ kitchen cupboard where it fights for top billing with the Breville sandwich maker, the Soda Stream and the George Foreman  lean, mean grilling machine.

Thankfully the children are now back to school which has allowed them to escape my patience free, Mr. Bronson inspired teaching methods and return to a proper education. In years to come, future generations will probably be taught about this COVID period and I can only imagine what an exam question would be like.

Question 1.

Tony and 11 friends arrive at a public house in the heavily Covid-19 restricted North East of England at 6.30pm, sitting 2 metres apart at 2 tables of 6 before leaving at 9.59pm. On returning home, at 1.37am Tony discovers he has 6 people from 3 families and 2 support bubbles inside his house and 6 people from 2 families and 3 support bubbles in his garden.

Should Tony;

1. Self-isolate for 14 days after ‘Big Len’ told him he loved him and licked his face.
2. Do nothing and wait for the nosey bag from next door to grass him up again.
3. Trigger a loophole by dressing everyone in black and pretending it’s a funeral.
4. Hire a coach for a non- social distancing day trip to Bournemouth beach.
5. Go to his nearest supermarket and panic buy his own bodyweight in pasta and toilet roll.
6. All of the above.

Many people have used their additional lockdown time to take up physical challenges and I have followed with admiration as they have documented their training progress on the NHS ‘Couch to 5K’. I however decided to successfully adopt some alternative versions of this concept which have included;

• Couch to Fridge.
• Couch to Biscuit Tin.
• Couch to front door to collect ridiculously large takeaway order.

I wouldn’t say that my takeaway food consumption is out of control but I now receive more texts from Dominos than I do from my family, could easily navigate my way to ‘Mrs Cod’ blindfolded and consider Stan the delivery driver from ‘Wok U Like’ as one of my closest friends. Eating badly will eventually take its toll however and whilst I don’t hold any formal qualifications in health assessment, I’m pretty confident getting out of breath trying to unhook a shower curtain is probably not the greatest indication that I have a high level of fitness.

 The stay at home lifestyle that lockdown created has allowed my dress sense to lean heavily towards that of the elasticated waist and it has now, I fear, reached the point of no return. A vast increase in alcohol consumption has not helped the cause either with the national ‘Eat Out to Help Out’ scheme largely overlooked in favour of my own ‘Drink In to Pass Out’ campaign. I for one was extremely disappointed when it was decided that the weekly Thursday night ‘Clap for the NHS’ should finally come to an end. The main reason for this being that up until then, I’d use those noisy few minutes as cover for the embarrassingly loud clanking sound of me dragging out an overflowing bottle recycling bin in time for the Friday morning collection.

My working from home day begins at 7.45am when I frantically log in and message the department group chat with a cheery “morning” in an attempt to cast the fool proof illusion that I am wide awake and already hard at work. The reality of course is that less than 90 seconds earlier I was still lying comatose under a double duvet dreaming of Holly Willoughby complimenting my full bodied head of hair as she presented me with my quadruple rollover lottery winner’s cheque. Even when I am physically out of bed, I am now at an age where numerous parts of my body (knees, ankles, back, eyes, brain) seem to require varying warming up periods until they each decide to become fully functional. As a consequence, for the first hour every morning you will usually find me in a state of undress pitifully shuffling my contorted frame around the house like a particularly convincing extra from ‘Shaun of the Dead.’ My only early morning ‘zoom’ conference call turned out to be very short lived when all the other participants thought they had mistakenly been sent the link to the live stream from the orangutan enclosure at London Zoo.

During a recent lunch break I read an online article which stated that the continual isolation experienced by home workers will in the long term almost certainly lead to the development of eccentric behavioural patterns. As I sat there in my wellies and Minions vest and y-fronts twin set, munching my mackerel and brown sauce sandwich and listening to the theme tune from the ‘Littlest Hobo’, Alexa was quick to reassure me that I was unlikely to be affected (“Maybe Tomorrow” by Terry Bush for those of you wondering).

All over the country people have used their time at home to learn new skills such as cooking, painting, languages and playing musical instruments. Personally the only thing I have learnt in this period is that Tesco online shopping is a lot more complicated than it may first appear. My first attempt saw me enthusiastically cram my online basket with 173 items before being unceremoniously informed on check out that the limit was in fact restricted to only 85. Now up against the clock in order to keep my delivery spot, a ruthless ‘X Factor’ style selection process ensued to determine which items would be cast aside and which would make the cut and get through to boot camp. Some choices were simple (Iceberg Lettuce v Steak Slice) whereas some (White Loaf v Cans of Stella) proved more tricky with both candidates putting forward strong arguments for being considered as ‘essential’.

Another aspect which proved a slight stumbling block was that unless you have a good grasp of weights & measures it can be difficult to judge the size of products just from their individual online pictures. This unfortunately proved to be the case when the first ever delivery I received included;

• A jar of Nutella so capacious that it will comfortably see my 9 year old son through his teenage years.
• A tub of margarine that when empty I will use for my first transatlantic crossing.
• Two bags of pasta so large and heavy that they could quite easily replace the ‘Atlas Stones’ in the latter stages of ‘The World’s Strongest Man’ and still prove an insurmountable challenge for  ‘The Viking’ Jon Pall Sigmarsson.

Since its publication in May, the majority of my book sales have been amongst friends, family and the local community. The positive feedback I have received in regards to the book’s message has made me reconsider how I should determine whether it has been a success. While I’d like nothing more than to sell thousands of copies and for writing to be my career, knowing that just one child has gained confidence or reassurance from a story I wrote genuinely feels more satisfying. My new project is to send a personalised copy to every Infant School in the area so it can be part of their libraries and hopefully read by their pupils for many years to come. I am also sending out copies to the bigger publishing houses as if I don’t try now I might never know what could have been. If recent events have taught us anything then it’s that you can certainly never predict what is around the corner.

Thanks for reading, stay safe and have a laugh whenever you can.