First Chapter Doghouse Blues 3
Chapter 1: The Road goes on Forever
Absurdity and modern life seemed to be inextricably linked as far as Roger Fraser could make out.
Ever amazed or disheartened by the deluge of ill-considered edicts and pronouncements, flying out of the mouths of ill-equipped power-players and mediocrities alike, long ago he took it for granted the capable and the gifted had been removed from the field of play by subjective laws and positive discrimination in favour of self-interested cliques, out to irretrievably change England into shapes of their choosing. Leveraging such a resolute grip on society at large, avoiding the impact of the new breed’s agenda proved impossible.
It had got to the point whereby he intended to employ meditation as an antidote to combat his ‘not in control of his own destiny’ complex. Accordingly, come 2012, he set great store in evading doghouse blues servitude by becoming a contemplation practitioner.
After the Firm’s Christmas party shenanigans involving false revelations regarding Roger’s assignation with Maria Sharapova, and him going toe to toe with local vicar, the Right Reverend Reddick, ‘Big Dick’ as Roger kept mispronouncing his name, on the thorny theme of the church versus the financial sector, at the Fraser’s Hazelwood house on Christmas Day evening, he anticipated the New Year’s Eve watershed with relish as the advent for a lifelong fix to his dilemma.
In Roger’s mindset, come 1st January 2012, he’d log-on to Amazon.co.uk and invest in a plethora of meditation self-help books to empower him with a look-over-the-horizon capability to dodge contentious social mantraps, and failing that, provide the means to fight the agony when he became caught in some unfortunate social web resulting in a merciless haranguing from his wife Charlotte’s acid tongue.
With the extra demands created by his trouble-shooter role at The Firm, Roger concluded he needed to be at his best to effectively and efficiently address them, meaning a clear mind free from concerns, as well as an unfluctuating robust body to manage the incurred workload and attendant strain.
Over his years in investment banking, he had seen honest and dedicated good men suffer premature burnout through overload excess. Having no counterpoint to balance out the crippling aftermath of sleepless nights, meals consumed on the hoof, and cramming twenty-six hours work into a twenty-four-hour day, the jitters arose, cold sweats and delirium drowning the victim in a pungent bath of touchiness and agitation. Butterflies in the stomach stoked up fluster and impatience. Fidgetiness became a daily distraction to control. Fear of others seeing decline into the abyss, the final calamity culminated in the shakes and neurasthenia.
Roger had always promised himself it would not happen to him, foresight ringing the alarm bell way before irreparable damage set in, his innate sense of survival making him throttle-back, take stock and reappraise his call to duty.
However, supplementary to taking notice of his sensations, without doubt he had to quell pent up frustrations and anger by artificial means. His rudimentary knowledge of meditation suggested regular sessions of cleansing his mind of amplified anxieties and worries could be the difference between retaining his sanity and going completely Tonto.
Undeniably, his alpha-male social activities went a long way to relieving tension, especially those associated with Kappa Corinthians Rugby Club and the Hazelwood & District Gentlemen’s Club. Alcohol played a pivotal part in the assuaging mechanism as well, but its residual downside could be just as decimating in terms of hangover pain and long-term body degeneracy as stress.
Back in the autumn, he had visioned out some long-term ambitions to be fulfilled when the Fraser children left home and before he approached mandatory retirement age at The Firm. For these to become reality, more than ever, he recognised John Barleycorn and Harry Hop only offered partial relief from built-up anxiety to brace his volition and his being. For the road to go on forever, he hoped meditation filled the rejuvenation gap, and sustained him in his hours of need when work and domestic pressures overwhelmed him.