I couldn't have said it better myself

Melvin Durai is a Winnipeg-based writer and humorist. Born in India and raised in Zambia, he has lived in North America since 1982. Through the Internet, his column is read by thousands of people in more than 90 countries.

This week's column hits the bull's eye! (pun intended)

'THE SHOT HEARD AROUND THE WORLD'

In case you missed the news, in case you were sleeping under a rock or just got released from Guantanamo , India won its first-ever individual gold medal at the Beijing Olympics, causing 1.1 billion people to jump up and down with joy, touching off a minor earthquake in California and a major interruption in tech support.

Yes, an Indian man won an Olympic gold medal -- and without all his opponents getting injured. Abhinav Bindra, a 25-year-old from Delhi, won first place in the 10m air rifle event, beating 50 other shooters, including that great Albanian marksman Imer Gudschot.

So excited were members of the Indian Olympic Association, so taken in this moment of high-fives and champagne-popping, that some of them checked the official medal table to see if India had moved past America .

No such luck, of course, but that didn't stop Indians from celebrating like it was the greatest lympic achievement ever.

And who can blame them? After all, it was their first individual gol medal since India began competing in the Olympics more than a century ago, back in the days when 'catapulting' was an official sport.

'The drought is over!' screamed one newspaper's headline, causing even more celebration across the land, particularly in the farming community.

It was a shining moment for India on the world's greatest sporting stage. As one Indian politician eloquently put it, 'Abhinav Bindra has shooted us all into glory!'

Almost everyone in India , from the Prime Minister to the church minister, heaped praise on Bindra. Even members of the Indian Astronomers Association, attending a convention in Pune, took a break from the proceedings to applaud the 'shooting star.

Congratulatory messages poured into India from all over the world. U.S. presidential candidate John McCain, hoping to endear himself to Indian-American voters, sent a congratulatory card that he said was 'from one straight shooter to another.'

Indian legislators debated a motion to celebrate Aug 11 every year as Gold Medal Day. They voted down a proposal to display Bindra's medal at a national museum in Delhi, amid fears that the building would not be able to handle the millions who would come to view it.

The excitement and celebration may have seemed overblown, but not to Indians. 'People around the world may not know this,' a Chennai man said, 'but we Indians really love gold!'

Bindra's victory, combined with shooter Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore's silver medal at the 2004 Olympics, is expected to increase the popularity of shooting in India, drawing thousands of youngsters to shooting competitions and exhibitions during breaks from cricket.
We want shooting to be more popular in India,' said sports administrator Baljit Singh, 'but not as popular as it is in America .'

Hoping to match the success of TGC (The Golf Channel) in America, media mogul Rupert Murdoch announced that Indian viewers would soon be treated to TSC (The Shooting Channel). It's expected to feature various shooting competitions from around the world, as well as reruns of the American shows 'Gunsmoke' and 'Have Gun Will Travel.

Rajesh Patel, who has been hired as a TSC analyst, said Bindra's victory will have a lasting impact in India, even on sports announcing. 'We're not going to say that someone's performance is 'simply wonderful' anymore,' he said. 'We're going to say that it's 'simply Bindraful.''

Schoolchildren for years to come will learn about Bindra, thanks partly to an Indian publisher who has already put out a special alphabet book: 'A is for Abhinav. Abhinav is first name of champion. B is for Bindra. Bindra is surname of champion. C is for Chapati. Chapati is food of champion.

Bindra has not just earned a lifetime of adulation, he has become India 's most eligible bachelor, receiving a flood of marriage proposals. Said his proud mother, 'We have received proposals from North Indians, South Indians, and even West Indians.'
Indeed, a Trinidad dairy farmer with a 20-year-old daughter offered 1,000 cows in dowry, but Bindra turned down the offer, saying he doesn't want to milk his fame.

That pleased Indian sports fans, who want Bindra to choose his bride carefully, believing that the country's future Olympic glory rests partly on what type of genes his children inherit. Some are even dreaming of a match between Bindra and badminton star Saina Nehwal, an Olympic quarterfinalist. But that would be folly, according to one Indian scientist, who said, 'If we match a badmintoner with a shooter, we might end up with a badshooter.'

Black Applique

Black is the New Beige

The rain has taken a break for now. The sun shines bright.The foliage is verdant and green. A couple of crows are gangsta-rapping with Mojo the Doberman outside my window. Those crows look pretty thin. Is it from hunger or is it their black plumage. I'll never know since I never learnt to speak Caw.

Lea looks good in black (women in black always look gorgeous) Is it because black sets off their skin-tones? The highlights in their hair? The sparkle in their eyes? Lea says,"Black makes one look slimmer." Though why someone as slim as Lea would want to look thinner is beyond my comprehension.

I understand now why Aunt Isabelle , who was a size XXXLL wore black for most of her adult life. Her wardrobe consisted of : black dresses, black saris, black blouses, black trousers, black jeans, black bras, black panties, black coat, black jewellery, black shoes, grey gloves. Why the grey gloves, I'll never know - she punched me out when she caught me rummaging through her closet and I never had the courage to ask.

Contrary to general opinion clothes are neither for warmth, nor for modesty. "Clothes maketh the man" - as one wag opined. If we didn't wear clothes, we maybe would have to wear signboards that said,"I'm a male chauvinist pig with a sadistic streak," or "I want you to think I'm athletic." But clothes take care of this. Now you can tell, from the way he flexes his man-breasts under that unbuttoned-to-the-waist shirt and those tight-at-the-crotch pants, that he has a very large, possibly huge, inferiority complex.

In my book, black is a magical colour! Black is cynicism and beyond. Black is for people who believe in radical change. Black is the offspring of the hippy generation and flower power. The Beatles and KISS(Both Gene Simmons AND the acronym). Black loves truth and beauty but hates aggrandisement.

Used to be, if you went to a party dressed in black and saw someone else, a total stranger. wearing all black, you could go up to her and say, "Let's get out of here."

Now the commoners are wearing it. Neil goes to parties and if I asked him " Who was there?" He'd most likely reply,"Oh, you know a bunch of people wearing black."

So I figure Lea would also complain about about black-wearers in Goa. "They go to parties wearing black, but it's the wrong black, it's like black Remo or something. It looks really stupid ."

I went to a birthday party where everyone, without exception, was in midnight black. Except the hostess - she was in a dreamy mauve by Chaitanya Rao.

Lawyers wear black. Stockbrokers wear black. IT geeks who think, "To hell with the heat, I have to worry about my career", wear black. People who send their kids to international schools wear black. Pilgrims wear black. People who desperately want to know the 'Babush' wear black. People who like Dhoom 2 wear black. Everyone at every FTV party wears black. People who know what "arbitrage" means wear black. My milkman wears black.

Wearing black has lost it's intrinsic meaning.

This has to be stopped. People who are caught wearing black without a permit should be fined. But we can't expect our government to take our enlightened view and pass legislation. We will have to take a page from the VHP book on gratuitous violence. We will have to form our own vigilante groups and prowl the streets. The minute we find a perpetrator wearing black without the proper and correct attitude, we must surround him, point, laugh and then throw white paint on him. This should work.
The next step would be that we, ourselves, stop wearing black. Do I have to tell you what the obvious substitute colour is? I'm guessing you already know that.

Then for some deranged reason filmstars, decadent corporate executives, and the mentally unstable who are considered fashionable in Mumbai and therefore the country (except Bihar) will copy us. They will stop wearing black.

Then we start in again.

The Celebrity Trap

Desperately Seeking Fame

Bomb blasts. Terrorism. The Kashmir Conflict. Earthquakes. The Homeless. AIDS. Spiraling Inflation. Rampant Corruption. Farmer Suicides. Iraq. Georgia. Mugabe. Musharraf. Holes in the Ozone. Oil prices. Human Rights. Avian Flu. Animal Rights. Human Genocide.

Are you having an anxiety attack? Quick turn on the television and find a replacement topic. Rush, switch to Zoom, Star World or Zee café ! Hurry , find out everything about Aishwarya’s Bhindi Bhaaji recipe right now!

If we did not have Rakhee Sawant’s tantrums or Salman Khan’s cleavage to think about we would all go crazy! It’s true. The media knows exactly what to do. Focus your attention on Koffee with Karan- Johar questioning whether Katrina Kaif would prefer to lip-lock with Madonna or Britney Spears. The New York Governors Escort Service, John Edward’s Mistress. The Pregnant Man.

They keep your brains brimming with rubbish . Because if you didn’t you might think about stuff. Like- When the whole world is cutting back on expenses, how does the Indian Government unashamedly commit 55,000 crores of hard-earned taxpayer money to a salary hike for Government babus.

If you had a life free from anxiety, with some chance of personal fulfillment and happiness (yeah right!) or the slightest notion that you have control over your destiny , you wouldn’t give a flying fig whether Lindsey Lohan married Ellen DeGeneres while pregnant with Shoaib Akhtar’s baby.

But you don’t ,so you do.

In these sordid, decaying times you have come to believe that unless you are a celebrity, you do not exist. If the media is not focused on your every gesture, it didn’t happen. Private despair, Acts of heroism and sacrifice, soul-wrenching tragedy, so what, who cares? It’s like a tree falling in a forest.

So now the frenzied desire to achieve celebritude and therefore existence. The ever-obliging media obliges. New reality shows for wannabes get created for television; new glamour magazines hit the stands citing the latest icons in fashion, lifestyle and showcasing jet setting party animals.

However some of you are never going to make it to Celebrityland. You don’t have what it takes, you’re always picking your nose in front of paparazzi cameras. Instead you try to be close to celebrities, you try to brush up against them, hoping to get some of their glitter-dust on your shoulder.

You have to consider that you also need something to talk about when you party with strangers. What do you say to the lady seated on the barstool next to you? “Hi, Do you come here often”? “What’s your zodiac sign”? “Hello Big Bottom”? No. You can now comfortably ease into a conversation with a perfect stranger about how much you hate and despise Paris Hilton and everything she stands for. And when you get tired of this you can talk about what a retard Govinda or Bush is. Deepika Padukone’s hairdo,. Sania Mirza’s outfits.
Celebrities become your common frame of reference, be it celebrity revilement or adulation. It crosses all cultural boundaries. Celebrities are now your community, not just a part of it.

But I feel sorry for them. Yes, I do. The moment a person becomes a celebrity is the same minute he/she becomes an alien mutant. Shah Rukh Khan (name changed to protect his identity), Kareena Kapoor and now Abhinav Bindra were once perfectly pleasant human beings with whom you might share a Vada Pau at Bandra Bandstand on a slow Monday evening..

But now they’ve become supreme beings with everyone stalking them and basking in their reflected glory. The focus of clawing, salivating attention seekers everywhere. It’s not what they expected. When the Cosmos wants to play a really rotten practical joke on you , it grants you your deepest wish, and then laughs when you suddenly realize you want to kill yourself.

Shah Rukh, Kareena and Abhinav , fervently, more than us lesser mortals, wanted fame. They slaved, they pushed, they stepped on other people’s faces in their bid to satisfy this desperate need.

“If I can be famous, people will worship me and not notice how short I am”, thought Shah Rukh Khan.

“If I can be famous, I can get liposuction and fool around with Saif”, reasoned Kareena.

“If I can be famous, I can walk around town with a loaded gun, and girls will notice me,” Abhinav hoped.

The night they became famous they suppressed a wild urge to run naked through the town crying,”Eureka, Eureka!” Finally! Now they were famous, adored, invincible. The genie had delivered.

However, the next morning when they awoke, each of them wanted to take an overdose of sleeping pills.

All their fantasies had been realized. Yet the reality remained. Their misery before was now twice as bad, because that elusive fame that they were striving for, that would make everything rosy, and makes their lives bearable, and provide them with happiness and fulfillment had happened.

Nothing changed. They were still human. The disillusionment turned them howling and insufferable. They became public property; succumbing fatally to the branding virus, forever doomed to appear on commercial television; advertising asinine beauty care products, white goods and automobiles, over and over and over again....ad nauseum.

Hey! Anybody care for a Lays chip? Betcha can't eat just one!

P.S. No Celebrities were killed, hurt or maimed in the production of the above article !

This really is A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

Black hole of debt.

I am delighted to say that I am a Credit Card Deadbeat! There are a lot of others out there, like me, who are also Credit Card Deadbeats. I congratulate you!

For those of you sporting your shiny Gold and Platinum Cards and looking haughtily at me and thinking I have a screw loose, but who don’t know what a Credit Card Deadbeat is, I’ll have you know I don’t avoid my credit card bills. I just don’t allow the credit card company to make any profit off me. As a matter of fact I made money off them. Huh!?....You may want to continue reading!

Why do credit card companies refer to their customers who pay off their credit cards promptly as “DEADBEATS”? They use the word like a mantra.
It’s not that these folk default on paying their bills.
To the contrary, a credit card deadbeat is the insider term used by credit card company executives and refers to all of the credit card users who pay off their bill each month promptly.
They’re called “DEADBEATS” because the credit card companies don’t make money off of them.

The ones who do not pay are the “PREFERRED CUSTOMERS, because they’re the ones they make money off. They target people they know won’t be able to pay.
The alternative to being a credit card deadbeat is what credit card executives call a “REVOLVER”. No, stupid person! It is not a gun used to commit suicide. Although being a credit card revolver might drive you to commit suicide, a revolver is a credit card user that constantly carries a balance and is charged regular, monthly interest on their charges.
Credit card companies love revolvers because they, in essence, increase the bottom line(again, not what YOU'RE thinking)for the credit card company and make them a nice profit. Further, from an insider perspective, the best customers not only carry a balance, but also make their payments late, triggering extra fees and a higher interest rate.

A credit card service salesperson will tell you it’s a business, and it’s a service, that they help people who are short of cash, help them find status, make their car payments, help them buy that plasma TV, the i-phone, laptop, Christmas and birthday presents for their children during tough times. Just like Santa Claus.



But they do not explain all the credit terms to all their customers, although you will find it on the back of every application, written in English in tiny, tiny print, but in the form of gobbledygook English even MBA’s from IIM Ahmedabad or Rhodes Scholars will not make out heads or tails of.
Sentences created by the same stalwarts who make up government tax laws which in the event are “subject to interpretation”…. meaning pay the bribe or else!

It’s usury, but who listens anyway since the state WANTS the credit card business. If you inquire about a car loan, you can be sure this info is shared among credit bureaus, it’s called Universal Default.

They have an extremely complex marketing strategy, they actually target people with low income or in the west those with bad credit ratings. Then they call or mail them citing exciting bonus offers.

They find people in dire straits and market directly to them with the hope of forming a lifelong relationship, I know of people who kind of operate their business in the same way, they sell heroin.

You can also term them loan sharks, considering they charge their customers 30% interest.

Now that is Criminal Conduct but it is not deemed criminal. Research has shown that the Credit Card industry is more profitable than Infosys, Reliance, and ONGC --- they have themselves a multi-million dollar racket going worldwide.

But don’t try to sue them since they have a lot of security and will bury you, the only way you can put adversary back into the system is to do it openly and notoriously for all to hear. Like in an open forum or NDTV debate.

Did you know that of the thousands of industries tracked by the better business bureau, the credit card racket is number one in customer complaints, that is why they deliberately target those who wont be able to pay off their debts, people they call “REVOLVERS”, people who see zero % interest in big red letters and don’t know that with just one late payment they skyrocket their interest to 30%.

In the last 5 years, in the US alone more than 7 million people filed for bankruptcy but the credit card companies were able to get the US Congress to change the Bankruptcy Code that made it next to impossible for people to be able to discharge credit card debt.

They are essentially a pack of hyenas, crunching on the bones of the poor and middle class. – I smell something foul; it has the stench of big tobacco and oil cartels all over it. Maybe someday they’ll get horribly sick and die.

Olympism 2008

THE BEIJING BANDWAGON

The Opening Ceremony
08:00 pm 08/08/2008 – A spectacular opening ceremony. Started on the dot.
Thus far, the awesomest opening ceremony of any Olympics. (or, as the Hindi Doordarshan commentator insisted on pronouncing, “OLUMPICS”.)
To whit it was a spectacle of sound, light and awesome human co-ordination.
Did I say it was awesome? Almost as good as a Bollywood movie - it had a 9 year old girl lip-syncing for a 7 year old singer, it had computer graphics for television broadcasts of fireworks, and it had scripted volunteers filling in empty seats in the stadium as cheerleaders for opposing teams.It made Ram Gopal Varma and Sanjay Leela Bhansali very proud

Here are some specs:
Number of drummers that pounded out the opening countdown : 2,008
Number of fireworks: 33,866 (this does not include some mortar shells that “accidently” fell at the same time on Tibet)
Number of performers and advisors: 22,000
Number of spectators: 91,000
Number of parking spots: 5
Number of television Viewers: 2.3 billion
Number of visits to the bathroom (including beer guzzling tv viewers) during the ceremony: The count was lost after 5 billion 3, 76,000.
Number of Olympic-related TV commercials watched per viewer: 3,786
Number of times a Games TV viewer in Goa will see the “Dancing Beijing” symbol and say, “Oi Patrone, doesn’t that look like Remo in tights?” : 350
Number of political world leaders: 80.
#George Bush when asked if he had come here for the decathlon, typically answered, “No, I’ll just take the regular coffee.”
#Sonia Gandhi noticed the dishevelled, undisciplined, sloppily dressed Indian squad, led by an ex-army officer no-less. She, understanding that they were tired from the long journey to the stadium and the endless practising, and were missing home; rose to the occasion, tucking in her gorgeous silk sari in true "jhadoo wali" style, and waved out to them in empathy. Prompting L.K.Advani to remark,“Well, that puts paid to my harping on her “foreign origin” in the future.
You don't believe me? Then watch the video below. Except that the video bit on Advaniji has been removed as his face not to mention voice, was not considered cute enough for an Olympic performance.


Number of participating countries: 204 (Brunei chickened out)
Number of athletes expected to compete: 10,500
Number of raincoats prepared for the athletes: 10,000 - unfortunately the Sichuan sweatshop shut down due to the earthquake, so the swimmers will not receive any raincoats
Number of Indian athletes: 57, actually 56 since a weightlifter was wantonly dropped at the last minute. She cried copiously and shed 5 kilos..
Number of Officials accompanying the squad: 42. Wonder why? Could be any number of reasons actually....They were there to prevent possible defections to the “other side”; As cheerleaders, like for the IPL; Sania Mirza’s mom was also part of the squad to find an Olympic match for her little girl; There were no weightlifters in the squad, but the weightlifting officials were there to persuade some other team to lift for the Indian side; Then there's the question of satisfying the "Olympic Reservation Quota" requirements. You have to admire the Indian Olympic Committee for efficiently covering all angles. Your taxes are being put to good use.
Number of condom vending machines in the games village: 2, right next to the pirated DVD kiosks.
Number of events competed for: 302 events in 28 sports (no, it does not include kabbadi)
Number of medals to be won: D-uh, do the math!
Number of atoms in Rakhi Sawant’s fingernail: 25 million. I just threw that in there as a statistic.
Money spent on the opening: Just 480 million Yuan – proof that you don’t have to spend a lot of money if you can threaten your citizens with jail time or worse to work for a handful of rice and beans a day.( 1 Yuan= 1 bean and 5 grains of rice)

For more accurate information you can always visit:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2008_Summer_Olympics#Participating_NOCs

China Snapshot
- Home to one out of every four people on earth. So if you belong to a family of four, I’m sure one of you is Chinese (check your Ration Card)
– An ancient culture which invented gunpowder, and paper, fireworks, travel agents, Chinese checkers and pirated DVD’s – bootleg copies of the opening ceremony were available 2 weeks earlier in Hong Kong.
– Home of the Great Wall, a man-made object that can be seen almost as clearly from outer space as Mukesh Ambani’s new home “Antilla” in downtown Mumbai.

Security – There are police and army officers everywhere, including one in every athlete’s room closet. Unfortunately, as we now know, this tight security does not extend to accompanying in-laws.

Language – Chinese of course or Mandarin. Get your destination written down by your helpful hotel staff. Show it to your taxi driver. Then look astounded when you figure out by the shrug of his shoulders that he cannot read either.

Toilets – Carry your own bathroom accessories. Since they were so busy inventing gunpowder, they never really got around to plumbing and modern bathrooms. Maybe you can carry your own porta- potty.

Cuisine – For the most part the cuisine there can be described as “Chinese Food”. For Starters try scorpion, snake on a stick, or dog liver.

dog brain soup,for the entree, go on to mixed cow and horse stew,
and top this splendid repast with assorted lizard legs, dung beetles and roasted silk worm soufflé. Yumm!


You will notice however that Chinese people in the markets are buying lamb chops, noodles and chicken dumplings.
The truth is, the Chinese don’t eat scorpions. They feed their reptiles to Olympic visitors. I suspect that the Chinese word for lizard legs when translated actually means “food for foreigners”

Pollution - Not as bad as Vapi, in Gujarat. Although I did think those shapes that looked like tiny polo shaped Olympic rings in the stadium were swarming toxic particles.
There’s really no air-pollution problem here. That’s what it says in the "Beijing Times", the official English-language newspaper of the "Chinese Olympic Committee".

And if one can't trust an official Chinese Committee to be objective about this, who can we trust? George Bush? Pakistan? The Goan Government?
The Beijing Times has run front-page stories stating that the yellowish-gray atmospheric gunk blotting out the sun is merely ''haze.'' OK? So enough nonsense about ''air pollution.''

You need a lot of help here, since most of the writing is in Chinese, which is basically a giant secret code designed to prevent you from having any idea what the hell is going on.

On the other hand the regular Chinese people are wonderful hosts, unfailingly friendly and helpful.
When you arrive at the hotel front desk, it will be staffed by at least 15 people. The great thing about China is : There are always plenty of people around to help.
For example: In some men's rooms, there are attendants whose sole function, as far as one can tell, is to direct you to the toilets. You walk in, and there's a guy, and he makes this gesture toward the toilets, which are roughly 5 steps away, his point being, ''Here are the toilets.''
This happens in Calangute too but mostly they gesture the way to the nearest bar. But unlike in Calangute, you do not tip him in Beijing.

Footnote: Rahul Gandhi was last seen drinking a refreshing beverage; when deciphered the Chinese label read “ BRAKE FLUID”

Closed for Service

Free Public Service Announcement

The Invoicing Section of my credit card company is incredibly efficient. I received my credit card statement which outlined charges for the annual fee for my replacement card, right on the dot. Perfectly normal procedure! Right? Now for the Dispatch (Despatch?) Section - I’m still waiting for that replacement card!! I now need to call Customer Service.

It's my own stupid fault that I need to speak to Customer Service. I made a really idiotic mistake: I moved to another city and into a new house.

Don't ever make this mistake! It's ALWAYS better to stay in your current home, even if it's destroyed in a tsunami or an earthquake.

If other people have bought your house and are moving in, you should hide in the garage and only come out at night to forage for food.

If you move, you'll end up like me: surrounded by hundreds of cardboard boxes packed by aliens, each box containing an average of one item -- perhaps a single old sock -- wadded up inside 2000 metres of bubble wrap and corrugated cardboard.

Almost every box will be labeled with the words “sundry items” but spelled in cell-phone texting language “S. IT”. You will not be able to find ANYTHING. For example, I'm pretty sure that, before I moved, I owned a 12-year-old cat.
(I'm kidding, of course. I know exactly where the cat is. It’s inside one of those boxes which the vultures keep circling.)

On moving day, I was surrounded by a forest of stacked boxes, attempting to take apart a credenza the size of an SUV so that I could attempt to force it through a doorway the width of Kareena Kapoor, when suddenly, outside, I heard the movers, who spoke Tamil, shouting something about a paamboo. I could tell by the urgency in their voices that when translated into cell-phone text, it would be all in capital letters. So I ran outside, and there, on the verandah,was a snake.

In other places, when you move, you're given a Farewell Dinner; there in Chennai, you get the Farewell Snake!

So, anyway, after dialling the number for Customer Service listed and waiting on hold for Customer Service a cool idea came to me.

Looks as though it’s what I do these days: wait for Customer Service. My call is important to them. They have told me this many times in a sincere recorded message. They can't wait to serve me! They will answer my call just as soon as they finish serving the entire population of Uttar Pradesh. After all Chief Minister Mayawati came oh- so-close to being our fair country’s first Dalit Prime Minister!

But my point, which I am hoping to make in the telling of this tale, is that, because I moved I had to change all my essential services -- cooking gas, telephones, ration card, postal service, beer delivery, etc. -- and naturally, because all the companies involved use sophisticated network technologies, none of these services actually work right in my new abode.

Everything is all mixed up. I have e mails being printed out via my electric iron, I receive phone calls on the hand- shower, and when I turn on the washing machine, scenes from 'Desperate Housewives'' are telecast during the rinse cycle.

So to sort out this mess, I quit my job (whatever that may have been) and started spending my days waiting on hold for Customer Service, listening to the toe-tapping ''lite'' muzak they play when they are not telling you how important your call is to them. While doing this, the idea came to me.

You know those telemarketing people who always call you at siesta-time? Or those Eureka Forbes salesmen who lean on your doorbell? I'm talking about the ones who never come right out and say they're selling something. Lately, they've been using the bizarre term ''courtesy call'' to describe what they're doing.

''Sir,'' they'll say, “this is just a courtesy call to do you the courtesy of interrupting your siesta so I can ask you this question: Would you like to save 50 percent or more on your long-distance phone bill?'' or “May I demonstrate this awesome water purifier, which doesn’t need electricity and absorbs moisture from the air."

I always say no. I tell them that if I wanted to talk to someone in a distant continent I would use Skype, or better yet, just go there. And to the Eureka guy I say I only drink beer and water is bad for my alcohol stream. Then I hang up/ shut the door. But, of course, this does not stop them. The next afternoon, they call again. That's how caring and considerate they are.

So here's the scenario: On the one hand, we have the telemarketers and salesmen constantly calling on us, even though everyone hates them and, to my knowledge, nobody in the history of the world has ever bought anything from them; and on the other hand, when we want to reach Customer Service, we can never get through.

Obviously, what my Credit Card Company needs to do is round up all the employees in the Telemarketing and Field Sales Departments, troop them over to Customer Service, and order them to step over the bodies of the Customer Service employees, all of whom apparently passed away years ago, and PICK UP THE BLASTED PHONE, OK? Because I need to take a shower and my shirt is stuck in the printer.

That darn snake is flirting with my cat !!