I have again
been summoned to the offices of the Building Managers of the condominium in
which I reside. I am involved is a dispute over the flying of my Tibetan
Prayer flags on my little verandah. I wrote about this a few days ago in a
piece I called "Fluttering" and I have been expecting this summons.
Building
Management are relentless in their pursuit of trite matters and my enraged fat
Danish neighbour Jens is I am sure behind the complaint. He has been furious at
me ever since the shitting-in-the-pool incident. Again, I have written
previously about the cause of his rage at me in a piece entitled "The
Floater" so I will not repeat the origins of this saga here.
I like the
word 'trite'. I like quite a lot of words. In the context that I have used the word
"trite" it means tedious or hackneyed. I also like the word
'hackneyed'. I like it even better than 'trite'. The origin of the word 'trite'
is Latin and it is the anglicized version of "tritus" - which
means "rubbed" or "worn down".
The word
'hackneyed' means "lacking significance through being overused". The
origin of this word are a little more interesting. It has been suggested that
the term being 'hackneyed' arose in the eighteenth century in England and in a
town not too far from the city of London.
Unsurprisingly
the name of this town is Hackney.
Hackney was
supposedly known for breeding poor quality and low cost horses. These horses
were used to pull the carriages of people who were ordinary and poor folk. The
horses of Hackney had a reputation for being weak and sickly. Their joints and
knees were apparently very dodgy. It has been suggested that these horses were
of poor quality because they were interbred. Brother horses were mated with their
sisters and sometimes even their mothers.
It was equine
incest.
These poor
creatures fell over a lot and the term 'hackneyed' arose. For reasons that are
unclear the term was later applied to mean "very ordinary' and it became applicable
to people and not horses. It was particularly applicable to writers and
journalists of not-so-good prose. An abbreviated form of the word is 'hack' and
if you are a 'hack' you are considered to be not very good at what you do.
So I fronted
up at the Building Manager's office yesterday morning and the Building Manager
Mr. Tan was sitting at his desk. As always he was accompanied by one of the
security guards. I am not sure why he always accompanied by one of these guards
but perhaps they act as his bodyguard. Mr. Tan should know by now that I am no
physical threat and I mean no harm. I battle him with my cunning guile and wit however
I am always courteous and respectful and our relationship is both cordial and
polite. As is the norm both Mr. Tan and the Security guard were looking quite
anxious.
They usually
are when I meet with them.
"Good
morning Mr. Tan. Good morning Mr. Sleepy" I announced cheerily.
Mr. Tan rose
to his feet and the security guard shuffled about a bit. I shook both their
hands and their shakes were weak and limp. Mr. Tan's hand was damp and sweaty.
I think I make
him very nervous.
"Good
morning Mr. Peter" Mr. Tan replied.
"Please
take a seat"
I sat and
crossed my legs.
"I
assume I am here to discuss the serious cockroach problem that we have here on
the property Mr. Tan?" I enquired.
I had decided
before the meeting that I would go on the offensive and try to confuse and
bamboozle Mr. Tan with a subject that he was not expecting.
"Cockroach?" Mr. Tan asked.
"Yes
cockroach Mr. Tan. Nasty and dirty little insects. I found one in my kitchen
yesterday and I was quite appalled. I think that the security guards have been
letting them into the complex"
The security
guard looked panicked.
"No
Mr. Peter we have asked you here to again request that you remove the flags
from your balcony"
"Cannot
Mr. Tan" I responded.
"I
have told you before that they are first of all not flags. They are symbolic
pieces of cloth that are central to the expression of my spiritual beliefs. I
have written to the Singaporean Prime Minister Mr. Lee to inform him of this
and to express my outrage at your demand that I remove them".
I have done no
such thing actually.
I was calling
a bluff.
"But
there has been a complaint Mr. Peter" Mr. Tan replied.
"I
must do something"
"I am
aware of this complaint Mr. Tan", I asserted.
"I am
also aware that it was lodged by my lunatic Danish neighbor Jens in a pathetic
attempt at revenge for simply informing you that he was the person likely
responsible for doing a poo in the pool last month. What is building management
doing to ensure that he does not repeat such a despicable recurrence?"
"There
has been a complaint though Mr. Peter" Mr. Tan repeated.
He completely
ignored my enquiry of the dirty Dane.
"So
you have said Mr. Tan"
"I
must do something"
"Call
in the pest control people to deal with the cockroaches and get the Security
guards to keep Mr. Jens under close surveillance when he is in the proximity of
the pool" I replied.
I was
endeavoring to deflect the issue however I really did see a cockroach in my
kitchen the other day.
"I would
instruct them to focus their fumigation on the Danish guy's apartment" I also suggested.
"If he
is indeed the person who shat in the pool then God knows what condition his
apartment is in"
"But
the flags Mr. Peter" Mr. Tan implored.
"They
must be taken down"
"Under
Article three, section four of the Singaporean constitution Mr. Tan I am
entitled to express and practice my religious and spiritual beliefs without
prejudice." I retorted.
I was making
it up now but I was having a ball.
"They
are also not flags Mr. Tan. They are Lung Ta which in Tibetan mean wind horses"
Mr. Tan looked
very distressed now.
"You
will not take them down?"
"I
will not. At least until I have heard back from the Prime Minister Lee on the
matter"
"You
will let me know immediately when you have received a reply la" Mr. Tan responded.
"Can?"
"Can
la"
I assured him and then I stood to leave.
"In
the meantime please let me know when the cockroach problem has been
addressed" I added.
"We
will call the pest control people immediately Mr. Peter" Mr. Tan replied.
I shook Mr.
Tan's hand firmly as I departed and his palm was even more sweaty than it was
before.
I gave the
security guard an elaborate salute as I left the office and his return salute
was instinctive but insipid.
I will probably
take the Tibetan prayer flags down from my verandah in a couple of days and I will
hang them up inside. I have had my fun and I don't really want to cause Mr. Tan
too much more anxiety.
I rather like
him and he is only trying to do his job.
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