The Sunday News
I AM afraid you have to give up the three things you love most,’ the doctor said to me after studying the results of my tests. He inserted the stethoscope into his ears as if to protect the eardrums from the thuds made by my pounding heart.
‘‘You will have to give up alcohol,’’ the doctor said. I shrugged. Being a social drinker, giving up alcohol was not a great sacrifice.
‘‘You will have to quit smoking,’’ the doctor continued. I smiled and nodded. I only felt the urge to smoke after a glass or two. Giving up drinking was killing two birds with one stone.
‘‘Finally,’’ the doctor said in a raised voice. He paused, sighed, shifted his gaze away from my face and looked out of the window. Obviously, he could not bear the pain he was about to inflict on his patient.
I turned my face towards the heavens, tightly closed my eyes, grit my teeth and prayed; ‘‘I know I have not been a model son my Lord, but please, don’t take away the joy of . . .’’
‘‘Finally,’’ the doctor repeated, ‘‘you must give up playing golf. This pain on your shoulder will only go away . . .’’
I opened my eyes and gushed, ‘‘thank you Lord, thank you for answering my prayer even before I state my request.’’
I hugged the doctor and admitted, ‘‘I feared the worst. I thought you were about to order me to give up eating meat. What would I be without the food of my fathers? I live to eat meat.
“When I see a grazing cow, I salivate. I imagine steak from its hind leg being roasted over a braai stand. The aroma of the steak caresses my nostrils and I cannot wait to sink my teeth into the finished product.
“When I see a feeding pig, I picture the whole of it turning and glistering over a roaster. I see fat oozing down its succulent brown body and yes, I pity those who say there is no heaven on earth. Having a doctor order me to give up meat is my greatest fear.’’
The above is what Matthew, a friend of mine told us last Saturday afternoon. The three of us were at his place enjoying drinks. Isaiah and I laughed. Matthew sipped his soft drink and joined in the laughter.
When the laughter had died down, Isaiah smiled to himself and slowly shook his head. ‘‘My greatest fear used to be the moment when my team reached the cup final but the live game on television would be at the same time with my wife’s favourite programme. I worked on this likely eventuality and figured a way out.’’
‘‘I think I know how you handled the tricky situation,’ I said. ‘You bought one of those decoders that record a programme on one channel whilst showing another on a different channel.’’
Isaiah shook his head. ‘‘My wife and I believe that when watching a favourite programme, one must do it at the same time with the rest of the viewers that love the programme. Certainly in sports a recorded programme is worse than watching dinosaurs. You live the moment with millions of other fans. Recording is not an option.’’
‘‘Your satellite dish has a multiple channel receiver and so you watch two different programmes at the same time,’’ Matthew suggested.
Isaiah chuckled. ‘‘I am an accountant and never spend money on unnecessary gadgets. Besides, my pastor says a family that watches television together remains together. I believe that.’’
‘‘Just tell us how you achieved the impossible,’’ I said.
‘‘Hard work and patience pays off,’’ Isaiah boasted. ‘‘Normally I would charge for this advice, but I give it freely to friends. Firstly, you make a mental note of all the programmes your wife loves.
Secondly, for each of her favourite programme, you quietly note another showing at a different channel at the same time. Thirdly, you claim to be crazy about the rival programmes on the other channels. Finally, you move in for the kill. You start arguments on which programmes are to be watched. You put up passionate arguments but quickly give in to her requests. Be the reasonable one.
You see guys; marriage is about compromise and record keeping. You compile all the compromises you make. When your team reaches that cup final, it is payback time. Remind her of all the compromises you have made. As sure as the traffic police will continue to mount road blocks, she will smile and agree that now it is her turn to compromise. Don’t press your luck and ask her to watch the final with you. A business man who has just got a bank loan never loiters around to make small talk with the bank manager.’
Well ladies and gentlemen; they say the proof of the pudding is in the eating. Try the compromise route on your partner or siblings and let me know if it has worked for you.
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