What's a blog without the occasional bit of shameless self-promotion?
If y'all in the neighbourhood, don't forget to drop by, aite?
Monday, May 21, 2007
Bongo@The Loft, Zouk KL, May 26 with The Works and DJ D'Arcy
What's a blog without the occasional bit of shameless self-promotion?
If y'all in the neighbourhood, don't forget to drop by, aite?
Friday, May 11, 2007
Ties that Bind
The Windsor was the first knot that I ever learnt. I think it was for an embassy dinner in London or something, and I had about 15 minutes to figure out which end went where, and only about three practice runs to get it right.
Small tip in your left hand, big tip in your right. Make a cross and slip the big tip over and under. Keep looping it around, then make a hole and again, over and under. And when you're done, make sure the tip touches the top of your belt, and never dips below it. And for God's sake, tighten that knot (those civvies always look so lazy with their slackened ties and unbuttoned cuffs).
Intense pressure, if you're an eight year-old.
I think I must have pulled it off, though, because I don't remember being scolded, afterwards.
But I remember being good at that kind of thing; learning from Dad. Whether it was tying knots, polishing boots or ironing shirts - you start at the collar and work your way around the top, back and sides - the simple act of learning the Army way of doing things was fun because it meant that you would fit in with the rest of the blokes.
And being a gentleman, said Dad, wasn't just about wearing your clothes right or knowing which fork to use at which course; it's how you treat others (especially the ladies) that sets you apart from the next man.
Nowadays, you'd be suprised how many guys can't tie knots properly.
But then again, not everyone has an officer (and a gentleman) for a father.
That said, I guess I owe him one.
Small tip in your left hand, big tip in your right. Make a cross and slip the big tip over and under. Keep looping it around, then make a hole and again, over and under. And when you're done, make sure the tip touches the top of your belt, and never dips below it. And for God's sake, tighten that knot (those civvies always look so lazy with their slackened ties and unbuttoned cuffs).
Intense pressure, if you're an eight year-old.
I think I must have pulled it off, though, because I don't remember being scolded, afterwards.
But I remember being good at that kind of thing; learning from Dad. Whether it was tying knots, polishing boots or ironing shirts - you start at the collar and work your way around the top, back and sides - the simple act of learning the Army way of doing things was fun because it meant that you would fit in with the rest of the blokes.
And being a gentleman, said Dad, wasn't just about wearing your clothes right or knowing which fork to use at which course; it's how you treat others (especially the ladies) that sets you apart from the next man.
Nowadays, you'd be suprised how many guys can't tie knots properly.
But then again, not everyone has an officer (and a gentleman) for a father.
That said, I guess I owe him one.
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