A Passage To India – Grandpa’s Boys – Triloki Patel

Lisa and I rarely have the same mornings off, so yesterday, given that our schedules had aligned, and that it was our national holiday, we decided to go into Berthoud proper to grab breakfast at Grandpa’s Cafe.

Now those of you who have read The Claire Trilogy will possibly remember some references to that fine establishment, including a passing mention of Grandpa’s Boys, a group of locals who have been friends since they were all in school together with Methuselah. They are a lot of fun and love to break my balls.

They remind me of a Green Acres version of The Old Fuckers Club.

We haven’t been to Grandpa’s in a while, given our crazy schedules, so I took the opportunity to go over to their table and stir them up like a little kid running through a resting flock of pigeons.

Of course they were ready with their faux surprise at my appearance and happily shared their hopes, rumors, and speculation that I had been driven out of town or, better yet, from the earth. I assured them – in traditional writer’s fashion – that the rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated.

Even their wives broke my balls. It was heaven.

Anyway, once we sat down, the new owner of the place, Triloki Patel, stopped by the table to introduce himself and get a closer look at the miscreants that had stirred up such a commotion in his establishment.

He was congenial and informative, sharing that in the evenings the restaurant converts to an Indian menu. Lisa, with a far more daring pallet, agreed to stop by some night to give it a try.

We also discussed some of the intricacies of the cricket match going on between India and Australia that was streaming on the TV. We even discussed the derivation of the term “sticky wickett” for Lisa’s benefit, given that she had never used the term. Although, as a BBC addict, I have.

Given that Triloki had overheard from the GB table that I was a writer, we got into a discussion on how I had mentioned the restaurant in The Claire Trilogy. He seemed so excited by that fact, that I went home and inscribed a set of the trilogy for him, and dropped it back at the restaurant.

That’s Triloki, below.

Now one of the added benefits of exposing my work to the Indian demographic at every opportunity is that India has 1.3 billion people and has a 75% literacy rate. I already have learned through my friendship with the Indian writer Ivy Logan, and her precocious son Neil, that my dark humo[u]r plays well in that wonderful country. I’ve read and reviewed Ivy’s books, and she is a wonderful writer. Highly recommend her books.

So, if Triloki tells his friends and family back home that his restaurant in NoCo appears in my books, which are also sold on Amazon India, I’m off to the races. It’s a natural connection, given how close the countries of Ireland (every Irish-American’s “home”) and India are on the list of countries, above. I want TCT to be the talk of every Mumbai book club.

A win-win. Always be selling!

Now Lisa and I may have had a purely American breakfast, but, given that I am a vegetarian and therefore don’t eat corned beef, I did acknowledge my Celtic roots at dinner, when I had a delicious baked patato, skin and all, with chives for a green touch. Lisa picked it up at Wendy’s of all places.

It was delicious. Then we watched The Quiet Man and The Departed before calling it a night.

Anyway, Saturday has arrived, with all of its chores, so I best be moving on.

But first, a kitty cuddle, my rounds and the dreadmill.

I hope you fine, five readers have something a little more exciting on your plates.

But no matter what is in store for you, make today a great one.