Surfing for Beginners

SURFING FOR BEGINNERS

Before I retired I was a Primary School teacher. The old adage ‘Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach’ is perfectly accurate in my case. Being an expert about nothing excludes me being qualified to write a serious article about anything, even teaching. As a challenge I decide to attempt an article about the futility of fireworks, one of the few things I feel passionate about. I have a lot of opinions and a substantial body of facts on this subject. However, wanting to write a convincing article and impress the reader with solid evidence I turn to my beloved computer to enhance my knowledge.

         I begin at seven on a cold Wednesday morning accompanied by a cup of coffee and cigarette number one. I turn to the little book of websites I purchased ages ago. I originally intended to work my way through it systematically but you know how it is, the best laid plans and all that. My search is rewarded with the discovery of the web address www.gunpowder-plot.org, a site that supposedly explores the historical details about Guy Fawkes. I type in the address enthusiastically only to be informed ‘This page cannot be displayed.’ My enthusiasm fizzles rather like a damp squib. As I am about to close the little book in disgust, the title ‘Weird places on the net’ on the opposite page catches my eye. I decide to take a little peek before settling down to write my article.

         There are literally hundreds of places to visit on this website and I decide I need a little distraction while I finish my coffee and second cigarette. First off I visit the ‘Virtual Bubble wrap’ site, where I spend a satisfying half an hour popping plastic bubbles, without that guilty feeling you get for damaging the ozone layer which dulls the pleasure when you indulge in the real thing.

         ‘The Incredible world of Navel Fluff’ is my next stop; an enormous site set up by a gentleman who claims to have the largest collection of personal navel fluff in existence. Fascinating stuff. There are sections on the origins of navel fluff, how much fluff is normal, uses for navel fluff and even photographs of the collection in large storage jars. I resist completing the online survey, being the sort of person who prefers to contemplate my navel rather than examine its contents.

         ‘Fruit and vegetable naughtiness’ turns out to be a series of photographs of aubergines, lemons, pears, and of course, cucumbers in compromising positions. That reminds me I haven’t had my morning banana, which I now view in a totally different light. Cup of coffee and cigarette number three automatically follow the consumption of the phallic fruit.

         I next sign up for the ‘Please delete me’ website which claims to stop useless spam getting into my E-mail box. Daily offers of Viagra, cures for baldness and penis extensions, I hope, will now be a thing of the past. I also pause a while to sign a petition to ‘Save the Dragon.’

         I pass over the ‘Online Pregnancy Test,’ ‘Rectal Foreign Bodies,’ and the ‘Sexiest Voice Contest,’ and head for the inviting site ‘Who were you in your last life?’ unveiled simply by typing in your date of birth. Apparently my husband was a doctor in Egypt, my son a sailor in Japan, my sister a philosopher in Australia and my mother a priest in the States. My own entry reveals that I was a teacher in Central England around the year 1150. Little wonder I get that ‘deja vu’ feeling so often.

         This leads me on to another survey that assesses your sex appeal from just your name. My two closest friends are judged to be on the same level as Pamela Anderson, my sister a normal woman and my seventy seven year old mother is described as ‘a babe.’ My husband reaches the level of ‘nerd’ while I am one step behind, on a par with Margaret Thatcher. This causes me to reflect on what I would have been had I married the first love of my life. I type in the hypothetical name. Sure enough, with his surname I would have been in the same class as my best friends and the man, himself, a Casanova. Just my luck.

         Next, I read an interesting account of ‘How to tell if your head is about to blow up.’ Evidently, this actually happened to a chess player in Moscow in 1994. The condition known as ‘Hyper-Cerebral Electrosis’ is rare but symptoms include a headache after thinking too hard, obsessive thoughts, spending over five hours a day reading and an over consumption of ice cream and doughnuts. Time to move on methinks!

         The ‘Mouse Clicking Competition’ reveals I am strictly an amateur so obviously I need to practice that skill when I have a little time to spare.

         Finally, I fill in the details of ‘The Death Clock,’ which will divulge exactly how much longer I will inhabit planet earth, unless my head blows up first. It predicts I shall take my leave on Wednesday, October 17th 2029. Oh goody, I shall miss the ‘firework season’ that year. My husband will have departed on Tuesday, January 23rd 2018. Thus, at the age of sixty-eight I will be granted eleven years of freedom. I wonder if my first love will still be around at that time? Maybe those daily offers of Viagra will come in useful after all.

         It’s almost midday. I make another cup of coffee and light my sixth cigarette. I reach for a nearby newspaper and flick through it to sample a few articles by the experts. I read with interest an article that claims that the Internet is the fastest growing addiction of the twenty first century. How ridiculous! Any fool knows that, providing the mounds of irrelevant claptrap don’t sidetrack you, the Internet is a valuable, informative and educational tool. I should know; after all I was a teacher in my past two lives. Well, I conclude, if people get paid good money for writing rubbish like that then there is still hope for the ‘Fireworks’ article I shall write tomorrow.


Footnote October 2002. This article was awarded a certificate of 'Honorable Mention' in The Writer's Digest Annual competition 2002 which had over 19,000 submissions! SMILING!