Three Vignettes From The Adverb Colander, December 2021

Rohan Candappa’s Adverb Colander

In a month during which almost everything was cancelled, apart from work, charity, exercise and political shenanigans…

…the adverb colander has literally (did you see what I did there?) helped to keep me sane. This relative sanity, despite the fact that the adverb colander is one of Rohan Candappa’s crazy ideas.

Last year, Rohan wrote and narrow-casted (within our little ThreadMash writing community) an adverb-inspired vignette each day during advent, having asked the ThreadMash community to send in three adverbs each. Rohan would draw that day’s adverb from the colander depicted above.

This year, Rohan again asked us all to chime in with adverbs, but this time the colander randomly allocated out those pesky modifiers for all of us to have a go…or two…or three.

I offered up:

Undeniably, Infrequently & Tediously.

The colander responded with the following adverbs for my inspiration:

Deeply, Rigorously, Nerdily.

Here are my three vignettes.

Deeply

I don’t much like soccer football. I’m certainly not one to be deeply affected by a football match. But one match is deeply embedded in my psyche.  The Republic of Ireland v Albania in May 1992. 

Bobbie and I went to Ireland for a week at that time. My first proper break since my back injury two years earlier and my first ever visit to Ireland.  I didn’t take a camera and I didn’t take a notebook, making it the least documented trip I have ever taken abroad.

That football match between Ireland and Albania dominates my memory for two reasons. 

Firstly, I remember that, in the build up to the match, the Irish media was full of news about the visiting Albanian team.  Initially RTÉ news worried, on behalf of the visitors, because the weather was unseasonably cold in Ireland and the visitors reported an insufficiency of warm clothing. Two days later, RTÉ news appealed to the people of Ireland, asking them to stop sending jumpers, cardigans and the like to the Albanian team’s hotel, because the visitors were now inundated with warm clothing.

A deeply charitable nation, the Irish.

Also a nation deeply passionate about their sports teams.

The Republic of Ireland had done unexpectedly well in the 1990 Football World Cup. This May 1992 match was at the start of the qualification campaign for the next World Cup.

By the time the night of the match arrived, Bobbie and I had moved on from Dublin to Cork. Bobbie is a keen football fan whose dad was Irish. We resolved to watch the match in a suitable-looking pub near our hotel.

As usual in Irish pubs, Bobbie and I were warmly received as guests.

There was much genial chatter about the warm clothing news items. The vibe was also charged with keen expectation. The throng expected their now-successful Ireland team to win a qualification match against Albania.

At half time and beyond, with the score still at 0-0, the atmosphere in the pub became tense. Bobbie whispered to me that we should make a hasty exit if the match failed to go Ireland’s way.

Mercifully, Ireland scored a couple of goals in the last half-hour of the game, turning the mood into a memorably shebeen-like party, with plenty of drinking, singing and dancing, until late into the night.

Rigorously Draft v1.0

Sally was super proud of her efforts over the past few months. The Advercol plc Covid Protocol Guide: DRAFT v1.0. Fifty carefully crafted pages, cross-tabulated with government guidelines, referencing journal articles on Covid protocol best practice and in-depth consultations with diverse Advercol stakeholders.

Last Friday, Sally had finally submitted the fruits of her labours for internal review to her boss, Jonathan, The Human Resources & Organisational Development Director.

Around 11:00 on Monday, Sally received a meeting request for a Zoom with Jonathan to discuss the Draft Guide.  A 15-minute slot on Thursday afternoon at 16:45. Jonathan must be pleased with her work, otherwise he would have scheduled a longer session to go through the document with her in detail. Sally clicked the accept button with a satisfied grin on her face.

Over the ensuing days, Sally imagined the reaction her diligence might have engendered. A nomination for a National HR Award, perhaps. Her work would fit well in the HR Innovation category and/or possibly Health & Wellbeing.  A Best In Show award, even, would not be beyond the bounds of possibility.

Yes, this Covid Guide assignment might well turn out to be career-defining for Sally. It had required attention to detail and boy had she deployed her trademark rigor. No wonder Jonathan had chosen her ahead of “Sloppy Simon” for the task.  Simon had acquired his unfortunate epithet before lockdown, when Jonathan had described Simon’s attempt at a revised Diversity and Inclusion Policy as “sloppy”, in front of the whole team. Poor Simon.

Thursday afternoon couldn’t come soon enough for Sally. She clicked the link as soon as the clock on her computer clicked from 16:44 to 16:45.  It seemed to take an age for Jonathan to arrive, just after 16:51.

“Afternoon, Sally”, said Jonathan. “Let’s try and keep this brief.  I need to take the kids to their after-school activities at five. OK? Great. Covid Guide. You’ve clearly put a lot of effort into this.”

“Thanks, Jonathan”, interjected Sally, “I’m glad you noticed”.

“Yes. Right. Thing is, Sally…”, Jonathan continued, “this Covid rules business is a bit of a moving target, don’t you think? I mean, the government changes tack more often than most people change their undies…”

“…indeed, Jonathan”, said Sally, “that’s why I have written protocols to cover so many eventualities…”

“…so we don’t want to over-complicate matters ourselves, do we, with too many in-house rules and stuff?”, continued Jonathan. “We could do with something a little more high-level and generic, don’t you think?”

“…umm, well, I thought…”

“…yes, indeed. So I have asked Simon to come up with a couple of pages. Quick and dirty. That should do us for now. This more detailed material might come in handy later, if or when this whole Covid thing ever settles down. OK? Oh, and Sally – let’s have a little chat about time management and proportionate effort at your next appraisal. OK?”

Nerdily

“I’m leaving you”, said Emily.  “It’s the final straw. Everything I do, you criticise and redo nerdily.”

Stuart was taken aback. “But all I did was rewrite the shopping list in logical, aisle-by-aisle, item-by-item sequence. That’s basic logistics. It saves loads of time at the supermarket. Who wants to trudge back and forth in that crummy place, wasting valuable time?”

“I do”, Emily yelled. “I want to wander aimlessly around the aisles if I choose to do so. Sometimes, I want to spot and buy goods serendipitously.  I want to live – I want to be free”.

There was a long silence. Emily looking for signs of reaction on Stuart’s face. Stuart studiously avoiding Emily’s glare.

“Get real”, said Stuart. “Anyway, there’s no such word as nerdily”.

Emily jolted, then asked, “how the hell do you work that out?”

Stuart explained. “Nerdily is not in the Microsoft spellcheck and, more importantly, it’s not in the Scrabble dictionary. No. Such. Word. As. Nerdily.”

“Be that as it may, Stuart”, said Emily, “but everything you say and do, you say and do nerdily”.

“What If this Adverb Colander Thing Goes Viral?” I Hear Many Readers Ask

We’ll need a bigger colander…

…like this FoodCycle one which Janie and I helped rescue from the Greenhouse Centre kitchen – but that’s another story: