Dear Basil (and Minnie!) - Tropical Living

Our esteemed columnists Basil (and Minnie!) are pleased to present their latest bestseller, ingeniously titled ‘Dear Basil (and Minnie!)’, available now at a Periplus book shop near you. They also have their very own website, www.dearbasil.com. My, they have been busy, and all this without the benefit of opposable thumbs! So buy the book, visit the website, and ask Basil (and Minnie!) to help solve your own embarrassing problems!

Question: I often have lunch with a dear friend from the Netherlands. It is always great fun, but since this is a gregarious fellow who knows half of Bali, people often come over to chat to him, often at length. Just the other day at Grocer & Grind, a man of the confirmed bachelor variety approached our table, shouting loud greetings and waving theatrically at my companion. Completely ignoring me, after a disapproving glance at my (rather snazzy, I thought) Zegna polo shirt and Ralph Lauren khakis, he resolutely sat down at our table and launched into long and highly dramatic monologue, in Dutch. This went on for some twenty minutes, whilst I sat there, fiddling with my napkin. It was extremely uncomfortable. What should I have done?

Basil: In an ideal world, your luncheon companion would have prevented his friend from sitting down at your table, mouthing an ‘I’ll call you later’ whilst making the appropriate hand gesture, and then turned back to you, continuing your conversation. But the man in question seems unstoppable, so it was probably difficult to prevent him from sitting down without using physical force. Your companion was extremely rude not to, at the very least, bring you into the conversation or at least make sure it was in English. As for his loud friend, well, less said the better, I think. Here is what you do next time. After sixty seconds of being ignored, absolutely no longer, you put down enough money to cover lunch for both of you, briskly grab your phone and car keys, stand up, smile, and say in a cheerful but firm voice: ‘You two must have a lot to talk about, so I’ll leave you to it.’ Then nod firmly, once, to the interluder and say ‘Nice to have met you. Bye.’ Then you very quickly walk away from the table and leave the restaurant. Ignore any calls from either of them. When your friend later calls you to (hopefully) apologize, you make light of it and say ‘No, no, not at all, I was late for the office.’ If he is an ass, and calls in a huff to enquire as to why you left, you do the same; be cheerful, brisk and stick to your story.

Minnie: If it was me, I would have quietly slipped under the table and peed on his shoes. That’s the only language those sorts of people understand. Failing that, I would have made a phone call, or pretended to, and started talking very loudly into the phone, preferably in Spanish, a language which requires wild gesticulations whilst spoken. When they eventually stop blabbing and stare awkwardly back at you, you continue to shout into the phone for a minute or so, hang up, and say cheerfully: ‘Well, that was a fun lunch, wasn’t it? Must do it again soon’.

Question: I’m a final year student at Bali International School, preparing for my IB. My dad wants me to go to law school, but I want to be a documentary film maker. Mum’s on my side, saying that I must do ‘whatever makes me happy’. Dad says I must have a proper education to fall back on. As for me, I know I could probably sail through law school, but would hate being a lawyer. I know I’d love to make documentaries, though. But I’m worried that I may have no talent for it, and then I’m stuffed. What should I do? I have to decide soon.

Basil: Talent doesn’t come into it. You should immediately buy a copy of Malcolm Gladwell’s ‘Outliers’. In it, he describes what makes very successful people. There are some intangibles, and some factors over which you have no control, such as aptitude, where and when you are born, your parent’s influences and so on. But, here is the good news: it takes 10,000 hours to master almost anything, from brain surgery to the violin, so if you’re willing to put in that amount of time (3-4 years of very hard practice), you will become good at it. The Beatles didn’t just arrive fully formed from the ether at the Ed Sullivan Show in 1962; they had spent 18 hours a day, for two years, in a basement bar in Hamburg, playing everything from rock to blues to country, honing their craft, and amalgamating as a group. Thus, Gladwell insists, aptitude, or talent, is vastly over-rated. Passion, and endless practice and training, is what counts. So if you are passionate about making films, and are willing to work extremely hard at it, you will become successful. Which is defined, in the film business, as being occasionally employed at laughable wages, with long periods of despair in between. So there’s no need to worry about lack of talent, only what you are passionate about and how hard you are willing to work for it. And, of course, whether or not you are willing to earn, if you’re lucky, one tenth of that of a typical lawyer. Are you?

Minnie: Parents always project their broken dreams onto their offspring. Your dad clearly wanted to become a lawyer, and your mum clearly regrets marrying your dad and becoming a housewife in Bali. She probably had dreams of becoming a ballerina, and is now hoping that you don’t end up as disappointed about life as she is. So don’t worry about it. Don’t listen to either of them.

Question: I live in New York, but I am thinking of moving to Bali, so that I can live a more eco-friendly life, maybe in the countryside in Canggu, surrounded by beautiful nature. Your advise, please.

Basil: You are confusing two (usually) mutually exclusive things: living an environmentally sensitive life, and living in the countryside. Think about it: people who live in the country use their cars all the time, creating masses of pollution. They also live in much larger homes than their flat-dwelling friends. These country homes, albeit lovely, use far more resources to construct, and consume far more energy in heating, cooling and lighting. Living in a small flat in the city and traveling everywhere by public transport is easily the most eco-friendly thing you can do. I am assuming, of course, that you are not planning to live in a mud hut and subside on squirrels, are you? All other things being equal, such as eating local, organic food and not wearing cotton (seriously), you should stay in the city. Living in the countryside feels more environmentally friendly, but it’s an illusion. And don’t take foreign holidays either; flying is one of the worst things you can do.

Minnie: Don’t listen to Basil, she’s become a right old prune lately. What you do is this: live wherever you like, fly as much as you want, drive a big car: the works. Just buy lots and lots of carbon credits. Five times as much as you produce is the current standard for well-to-do ‘eco-worriers’ such as your good self. Make sure it’s the right ones, though: I like the ones that buy rainforest land. Carbon credit really is a most splendid invention. Like the sinners of yore, you simply purchase your absolution. The only difference is that, this time, you don’t buy your forgiveness from the Catholic Church, but from Greenpeace. Great, isn’t it? Plus ca change, plus ca reste la meme chose, eh? Buy a Harley Davidson whilst you’re at it! Plenty of Bali based environmentalists ride Harley’s and fly First Class, so why shouldn’t you? Just make sure Martin Luther doesn’t catch you.