Skip to main content

WHY I CALL MY WIFE SHOW

The beguiling freak in the photo is the inimitable Mauro Shampoo, whom I suspect had just come last in a Brian May lookalike competition. Apart from being an accomplished hairdresser (hence the pseudonym, presumably), the unkempt oddity is an erstwhile footballing legend with Ibis, from Recife, the Worst Football Team in the World according to the Guinness Book of Records, this title having been bestowed due to their failure to win a game for three straight seasons. Shampoo was their attacking midfield dynamo, ending his career at the club with a remarkable record of one goal in ten seasons.

Since his retirement from the beautiful game, Shampers has taken to the chat show circuit and been the subject of a documentary entitled, “Mauro Shampoo – Footballer, Hairdresser, Man”, which won the Best Short Film - Audience Award at the 2006 Rio Film Festival, amongst other accolades. I first saw him on a late night David Letterman Show clone hosted by Brazilian wit Jô Soares, and I was instantly hooked.

“Show de bola” is an expression in Brazilian Portuguese that, translated literally, means “show of ball” or “ball show”. This is not, as it may first appear, a reference to indecent exposure, but an idiom that normally describes the spectacularity of an event. If the movie you just watched surpassed your expectations, it was “show de bola”, or the abbreviated form, “show”.

The fiendishly inventive Mauro Shampoo uses this expression to describe everything, be it animal, vegetable or mineral. When he speaks, every second word is “show” - people are “show”, places are “show”, he even involuntarily utters “show” out of the blue, without having anything obvious to characterise as being “show”. It’s as if he has a captivating, inoffensive case of Tourette’s Syndrome.

His enthusiasm for all things “show” is maddeningly infectious. Forget New Age positive thinking gurus, Mauro Shampoo has found the key to a happy life – everything is “show”! The man’s psychological insightfulness is inversely proportional to his ability on the football field.

So that’s why I call my wife Show, as a tribute to a hirsute fruitcake who spreads positive vibes through his awkward lack of vocabulary. When we encounter moments of marital tension, as all the best couples do, I just call my spouse Show and soon we are smiling, kissing and making up.

Thank you, Mauro Shampoo – Footballer, Hairdresser, Man.

Comments

David said…
Just want to say, as one lost TEFLer to another, that it quite refreshing to know that I´m not the only one stuck in the limbo.

I´m also teaching here in Brazil, and can commiserate with a lot of what you say.

David
JamesDBarnes@gmail.com

Popular posts from this blog

NO MORE A-CUSSIN'

In an effort to rid himself of the habit of using foul language at the slightest provocation , a Facebook chum recently asked for suggestions for harmless expressions he could use in front of his Gran and her bingo clique during moments of high stress, astonishment and/or extreme disappointment. I weighed in with, " Crikey! " and, " Great Scott! " Please feel free to add your suggestions, and help to make the world a tiny bit less like a trucker's stopover in Eindhoven .

6 RANDOM THINGS ABOUT WARDY

The splendid Gyppo Byard has kindly requested that I write six random things about myself. I note that the adjective "interesting" didn't feature, thankfully, so here goes: According to my late father's genealogical rummaging, I am (very) distantly related to Sir Francis Drake (or Sir Walter Raleigh , I forget which); I've suffered two bouts of severe clinical depression (the last 17 years ago) and used to suffer panic attacks. I regained my fragile sanity without recourse to professional help or drugs, partly by reading Free to Be Human by David Edwards, a personal friend with whom I have shared many a beery night over the years. In fact, it may have been the beery nights that cured me, who knows?; When I was a baby I used to hum songs from the hit parade in my cot, way before I could talk, leading my father to predict that I was some kind of musical genius . Later attempts to learn the violin at primary school proved his optimism spectacularly unfounded ; De...

FOOLING WITH SCHOOLING

One of the commonest figures to be found within TEFL is the aspiring administrator. This is a teacher who, often drained by years of repetitive, poorly remunerated clowning around in the classroom, seeks a position managing other teachers, such as Director of Studies (aptly and attractively known as "Doss"), from which they can sit in an imaginary TEFL director’s chair smoking a cigar, bellowing, “CUT!” and enjoying not having to pull a linguistic rabbit out of a hat twelve times a day, five days a week. I include myself within this TEFL subgenre, although my past experiences of administration have left me with an odd yearning to get back into the classroom and be king of my own modest sandcastle. In 2005, whilst I was working in HR at a local factory, my Brazilian friend Bert and I decided to start our own school. I had recently managed to wriggle out of a honey trap I’d set for myself, when I offered to give a free English course to my colleagues in the factory’s Training a...