LAST WORD PLUS
AND finally HOW COM E WOM EN G E T ON WITH IT REGARDLESS OF HOW TH E Y A R E F E E L I N G ? A N T H O N Y M A R T I N – U N S U R P R I S I N G LY – N E E D S TO F I N D A N A M E F O R H I S B A D M O O D S A N D P U TS T H E M D OW N T O A ‘ R E C O G N I S E D ’ C O N D I T I O N , R AT H E R T H A N A D M I T H E ’ S A G R U M P Y O L D M A N W H O WA N T S T O AV O I D D O M E S T I C TA S K S
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ALGARVE P L U S
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T IS DIFFICULT to be light-hearted during
these times of conflict, but this page is not the place to make personal comments on geopolitical matters. It is rather the space that allows me to witter on about... well, anything I wish. And today, being a mite irritable but not knowing why, I entered into extensive research – meaning I asked Google – as to the possible reason for said irritability. And I discovered an interesting fact: this is a condition, and one that is recognised by the medical profession. It’s called andropause. Yes ladies, we males, too, now have an excuse – an excuse we can use to get out of doing absolutely anything and everything without our partner’s remonstrations. And among the symptoms listed are lack of energy, irritability and mood swings, loss of strength or muscle mass, height loss, increased body fat, low sex drive and erections that are not as strong as usual. Now, I will happily fess up to the first five but not the last two – this, my fellow Algarvians, I cannot stress strongly enough. Definitely not the last two – nothing wrong with me in that department, folks. I have therefore diagnosed myself as only part-andropausal, but be that as it may, when the condition hits me, like the ladies, I will be unable to do many of the things I am asked; certainly be too weak to clear out the storage cupboard and garage, unblock the irrigation sprinklers or even figure out the unbelievably complicated digital timer that controls the exterior lighting. Isn’t it great, the human body can give us the most magnificent cop-outs. But that’s enough of that, the page awaits and that is something for which cop-outs do not exist. For some time now, as a direct result of the machinations of the Blonde Bombshell (aka Boris Johnson), instead of using Amazon UK, I have been buying items from Amazon Germany and, with one exception, this has worked out quite well. The exception
being their enthusiasm for efficiency. It’s not enough to state that I am satisfied with the product ordered, but they want me to report on all manner of things; apart from the usual, did-it-arriveon-time and how-was-the-shipping-company questions, I receive emails asking if it met my expectations? Was it comfortable to use? How many stars would I give it, would I recommend it to a friend, and would I buy it again? And finally, when I have successfully avoided answering all the questions and just clicked on a star rating, I’m told that the above is insufficient and I should put my name to my comments. You have to be joking, Herr Bezos! Do you think I’m going to admit to the world that I’m stupid enough to spend €162.99 on six plastic Rangemaster cooker knobs when I only needed to replace one? In addition, after I’ve bought the five unwanted cooker knobs and clicked ‘no’ to express shipping, insurance subscriptions and various newsletters, I am asked if I would now like to buy a pack of ‘Born Pretty UV Nail Polish Glitter’? Methinks lieber Jeff’s minions, beavering away somewhere in a warehouse the size of Wales, are either on commission or the algorithm has eine glitch. Being online has taken over our lives to such an extent that I wonder if there is anyone out there who can exist within the normal framework of life without a basic understanding of computing, software applications and keyboard skills. High street banks will soon be a thing of the past along with car showrooms and betting shops. The past ten years have seen a sea of change in our spending habits and lifestyle. And what about social media, which could have been a force for good but instead is being used to spread disinformation, and to be a tool for those who wish to gather followers to their personal crackpot ideologies. But it can’t be totally bad as it has woken me up to the fact that I’m a hell of a nice guy – just occasionally andropausal.
Am I going to admit that I spent €162.99 on six plastic cooker knobs when I only needed to replace one?
