Motor muse monthly

MMM’s Chief Untechnical Correspondent is creating a practical advice column...

Whilst sipping the usual early evening glass (or three) of single malt, I picked up a copy of the amazing magazine known as MMM in order to have my life enhanced and enlightened. I know, I’m not usually this expansive or generous about the hand that feeds me but, as the contract for the Hitch-Dodger’s Guide to The Galaxy expires shortly, I thought a more conciliatory and complimentary attitude towards the management might be temporarily advisable.

The idea, when I first picked up the Itinerant’s Bible, was to glean some inspiration and technique about giving advice on all manner of practical camperhoming matters. But in alternative ways. So I had a trawl through the MMM technical section, which is addled, sorry riddled, with said advice and within the sub-section labelled Tech Advice. But the title immediately put my sensitive karma out of kilter. It was the word ‘tech’ that did it, and consequently changed the direction of my flow.

However, I’m getting out of sequence. Clutching my glass, sniffing deeply the rich, smoky aromas of the Scotch, I set-to wading through the long grass of folk making their Thetford door more thief-proof, untangling their hosepipes and hook-up cables and arrived at, via The Loo of the Future, three pages of cassette toilet tips. Racy, eh? With a photo of an old geezer stooped over the effluent container sniffing-in the rich, deep (like smoky, starts with ‘s’ and ends in y’) aromas from the orifice with inappropriate glee. What followed was a whole toiletload of advice about using and maintaining the plastic throne.

Well, perhaps that should read official advice. Stuff like only using the official toilet paper and the official toilet fluids, and not to bother with unofficial additions. I was, at this point, going to offer some alternative complimentary medicine about the not-so-official way of operating a mobile sewerage system, but I’d been diverted by that ‘tech’ word.

Then, and this really did perk me up no end, was the mention of the words ‘Lotus technique’ in relation to toilet paper use.

However, before all that, I really do have to return to the word ‘tech’. Who made that up? He needs tracing and testing. What does it mean? Is it an abbreviation of the word technical? Every shop you go in now has the ‘tech’ word splattered about all over. Mindless young men are using the word continually, but can they tell you what it actually means? Is it something you plug in? Not necessarily. Is it anything that revolves? Well, maybe, but then again maybe not. Is it a manufactured item with a piece of wire in it? Sort of, possibly. Is it anything that can or cannot be fixed, or is it the act of fixing anything? Who knows.

So, what does ‘tech’ mean? Nobody knows. It is omnipotent, and means everything and anything, but nothing. It is trendy, too, and I hate trendy. Don’t get me started on the way the word ‘absolutely’ is used nowadays either.

Right, now I’ve got that off my chest, back to the toilet, and can the use of toilet paper ever be described as ‘techy’ enough to get involved in the ‘tech’ section? Well, it does revolve. Is emptying (or filling) y’r bog classed as ‘tech’? Yep, anything is. Sorry, I’ve gone all tangential on you again. Or should that be ‘techgenital’?

Going back to the point, it was the ‘Lotus technique’ that caught my eye. As a former practitioner in the ancient and mysterious malpractices of yoga, I more than half-expected some expert spiritually based guidance about squatting with the correct posture to attain a perfect mind (and body) blowing experience. After kneeling in front of the throne to say (or chant) a few words of prayer to the Gods of Gentle Disposal for a safe and easy deliverance.

The advice continued (without the instruction to assume the correct position sitting upright, both legs crossed and folded under each other) to lay two sheets of (official) toilet paper over the cassette entrance to soften the fall of the hallowed material. And, at the same time, to dress it up nicely as it descends into the great safekeeping place in Mother Earth’s disposal closet. To join the rest of the hallowed material in the place where we all end up if I’m not mistaken. Not that this is the first time I’ve gone through the ‘tech’ (honestly, if I find out who first used this aberration I’ll throttle the ‘bast’) section imagining all sorts of alternative advice, and thinking there is room for a Practical Spiritual ‘Tech’ section in MMM.

After that issue and after two large glasses of the Isle of Skye’s finest, I don’t think I can match the inspiration that this issue of MMM delivered to my revolving wrongly wired ailing ‘tech’ thinking gear. Hopefully by next month (if the contract is renewed), I’ll have thought of some proper practical advice.

“Clutching my glass, sniffing deeply the rich, smoky aromas of the Scotch, I set-to wading through the long grass”