Home  >> Stories  >> The Tale Spinner #2010-30

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IN THIS ISSUE

• Margaret Manning describes the beginning of a visit to the South Island
• Jim Olson expresses his philosophy for aging
• Gerrit deLeeuw marks the heat of summer with this story
• Pat Moore sends an ode to a cat
• Carol Dilworth reviews a book about a famous tennis player
• Nevil Horsfall forwards a story about an Irish interview
• Bruce Galway´s contribution is about an Indian mating call
• The editor has her heart monitored
• Bruce, Pat, and Tom Williamson suggest websites

Margaret Manning, whom we have not heard from in lo, these many moons, writes about a recent holiday she and her husband, Eric, enjoyed:

SOUTH ISLAND BECKONS

Flights south from where we live in New Zealand are very expensive. When we decided to travel from Kaitaia near the top of the North Island to Christchurch in the South, we drove to Auckland and got very cheap fares from there. That gave us the chance to play croquet en route in both directions and to catch up with friends as well.

As everybody was full of dire warnings about the South Island weather at that time of year, it was difficult to know what to pack. It was suggested we´d need thick scarves and winter woollies. We decided to take a risk and stick with the summer clothing we used in the north, with just a few warmer garments. This was the right decision as the days were so hot we were in short sleeves for the two weeks.

Our nephew Chris met us at the airport and soon got us to the accommodation we had reserved, in the back of beyond in a settlement we´d never heard of previously. It sounded great on the internet and too good to be true. It was a loft built into two-bedroomed accommodation over a barn, with views over olive groves and the foothills of the Southern Alps. The loft was very well appointed and included basic ingredients for breakfast. It was better than it sounded on the internet.

Chris then drove us to his home half an hour in the other direction and north of Rangiora. We wondered where on earth he and wife Jo live, as the road seemed to go on forever. He told us the property at the rough end of the road is called "Journey"s End". Chris and Jo bought a stunning piece of land with a few acres and a small cottage about a year ago, after renting it when they moved to New Zealand. Chris loaned us their 4WD Suzuki to use during our holiday.

We left just before 6 p.m., knowing it would be dark by 6.45. In theory it was an easy drive back as there weren´t many turns - just very long roads. Well, we got well and truly lost, having turned left instead of right at an intersection. The tree-lined road we were on suddenly became very dark and there didn´t seem to be any houses around. If there were, they were well set back from the road, or the owners were not home as we could see no lights. We didn´t see any other vehicles on that road, which we traversed several times before finally spotting the road sign we needed. We were very relieved to find the olive loft and wondered who in their right mind would choose to live in such a remote settlement.

After a light meal and strong coffee we felt more cheerful and looked through some of the tourist leaflets and local newspaper. We discovered that the settlement had a farmers´ market on Fridays. We wondered how such a place could support a farmers´ market and decided to have a look next day.

We didn´t have any trouble finding Ohoka Domain - we´d driven past it who knows how many times the night before. Dozens of vehicles got there before we did and the place was buzzing. There were samples of several blends of olive oil, proper English pork pies (difficult to make at home and the real thing not easy to find in regular shops), Bermuda rum cake, Dutch cookies and slices, local cheeses, hazelnuts, apples, and many more items. That was a great place to stock up on local produce and meet some of the locals at the same time. We found the stall-holders to be very friendly.

We spent the rest of that first full day at Chris and Jo´s place and enjoyed a slice of the very rich Bermuda rum cake and some of the other goodies. Their home didn´t seem so very far away now, and the settlement of Ohoka looked very enticing as a place to live.

(To be continued)

CORRESPONDENCE

In reply to a query about how he has recovered from his accident, Jim Olson writes: "I have recovered but the process is a little uneven. I think we all know what the future brings for us, we just don´t know when and how. The best is not yet to come, but we have to make the best of whatever comes. It´s an adventure."

ED. NOTE: I love Jim´s attitude, and entirely agree with him. I hope to make the most of what I have left, no matter how old and decrepit I get.

Gerrit deLeeuw sends this new version of an older story:

OH TO LIVE IN THE OKANAGAN VALLEY

May 30th: Just moved to the sunny Okanagan in BC. Now this is the place to live ... Beautiful sunny days and warm balmy evenings. What a place! It is beautiful. I´ve finally found my home. I love it here.

June 14th: Really heating up. Got to 30 today. Not a problem. Live in an air-conditioned home, drive an air-conditioned car. What a pleasure to see the sun every day like this. I´m turning into a sun worshipper.

June 30th: Had the backyard landscaped with western plants today. Lots of cactus and rocks. What a breeze to maintain. No more mowing lawn for me. Another scorcher today, but I love it here.

July 10th: The temperature hasn´t been below 30 all week. How do people get used to this kind of heat? At least it´s kind of windy though. But getting used to the heat is taking longer that I expected.

July 15th: Fell asleep by the community pool. Got 3rd degree burns over 60% of my body. Missed three days of work. What a dumb thing to do. I learned my lesson though. Got to respect the ol´ sun in a climate like this.

July 20th: I missed Lomita (my cat) sneaking into the car when I left this morning. By the time I got to the hot car at noon, Lomita had died and swollen up to the size of a shopping bag and stunk up the upholstery. The car now smells like Kibbles and shits. I learned my lesson though. No more pets in this heat.

July 25th: The wind sucks. It feels like a giant freaking blow dryer! And it´s hot as hell. The home air-conditioner is on the fritz and the A/C repairman charged $200 just to drive by and tell me he needed to order parts.

July 30th: Been sleeping outside on the patio for three nights now. $500,000 house and I can´t even go inside. Why did I ever come here?

Aug. 4th: It´s 115 degrees. Finally got the air-conditioner fixed today. It cost $500 and gets the temperature down to 20. I hate this stupid city.

Aug. 8th: If another wise-ass cracks, ´Hot enough for you today?´ I´m going to strangle him. Damn heat. By the time I get to work the radiator is boiling over, my clothes are soaking wet, and I smell like baked cat!!

Aug. 9th: Tried to run some errands after work. Wore shorts, and when I sat on the seats in the car, I thought my ass was on fire. I lost two layers of flesh and all the hair on the back of my legs and ass. Now my car smells like burnt hair, fried ass, and baked cat.

Aug. 10th: The weather report might as well be a damn recording. Hot and sunny! Hot and sunny! Hot and sunny! It´s been too hot to do shit for two damn months and the weatherman says it might really warm up next week. Doesn´t it ever rain in this damn desert? Water rationing will be next, so my $1700 worth of cactus will just dry up and blow over. Even the cactus can´t live in this damn heat.

Aug. 14th: Welcome to HELL!!! Temperature got to 40 today. Forgot to crack the window and blew the damn windshield out of the car. The installer came to fix it and said, ´Hot enough for you today?´ My sister had to spend $1500 to bail me out of jail. Freaking OKANAGAN!! What kind of a sick demented idiot would want to live here?

Will write later to let you know how the trial went.

Pat Moore forwards this ode, which could have been written about my cat:

ODE TO A CAT

I think that I shall never see
A cat that sheds as much as thee.
Thy fur that sticks is all around
On chairs, on mats, in little mounds.
I sweep the floor, you shed some more;
I wash the rug and you just shrug.
You should give thanks I tolerate that,
Or you would be a crew-cut cat.

Carol Dilworth reviews a book about a phenomenal tennis player:

OPEN

I have just finished reading "Open", Andre Agassi´s autobiography (in fact it was written by a Pulitzer-Prize winning journalist, taken from hours of taped conversations with the retired professional tennis player). The book is fast-moving and addictive, just like the game. Be sure to set lots of time aside for this one. At nearly four hundred packed pages it takes a while, but I was sorry to finish.

Agassi was talented enough that he was given lessons with Bjorn Borg when he was only nine years old. He was a rebel, refusing to play Wimbledon for years because of the requirement to wear only white. He wore his hair flowing down his back, hiding his balding with hair pieces. After 20 years playing professionally, Andre Agassi was the last of his peer group to retire. He played the opens until 2006, which means that he has played against Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. He retired suddenly, when back damage and pain almost prevented him from finishing the 2006 U.S. Open.

Agassi is married to his second wife, the former Steffi Graf (now Stephanie Agassi). Steffi Graf retired from the professional tennis circuit in 1999 and is still the top-ranking female tennis player in the world. Agassi´s first wife was Brooke Shields. What these three people have in common is a missing childhood. The resemblance of tennis to acting seems to end there. Tennis players eat enormous quantities of food, cannot stay up late, and often finish their careers with debilitating injuries. However, they can still attract a large crowd after retirement and they go on to "compete" in charity matches.

This book tells us what we couldn´t see on the television or read in the newspapers. There is rivalry, jealousy, drug use, non-stop travel, and highs and lows certainly beyond any range I have experienced. Agassi reveals that he lied to prevent being kicked off the tour (he was successful) so I wondered about the rest of the story. But there is too much that could be checked, so I suspect that most of the content is reliable.

Agassi was the most colourful, annoying, and loveable player we have ever watched. The crowds roared for him the minute he walked onto the court and the noise continued, win or lose. Don´t wait for the others to write a book - this is the one to read.

ED. NOTE: The New York Times 100 Notable Books of 2009 wrote: "Bracingly devoid of triumphalist homily, Agassi´s is one of the most passionately anti-sports books ever written by a superstar athlete."

Nevil Horsfall posted this story about an

IRISH INTERVIEW TECHNIQUE

Murphy applied for a fermentation operator post at a famous Irish firm based in Dublin. A Pole applied for the same job and since both applicants had similar qualifications, they were asked to take a test by the manager.

When the results were in, both men had scored 19 out of 20.

The manager went to Murphy and said, "Thank you for coming to the interview, but we´ve decided to give the Pole the job."

Murphy replied, "And why would you be doing that? We both got 19 questions correct. This being Ireland and me being Irish, surely I should get the job."

The manager said, "We have made our decision not on the correct answers, but on the question you got wrong."

Murphy asked, "And just how would one incorrect answer be better than another?"

The manager said, "Simple. On question number 7, the Pole wrote down,´I don´t know.´

"You put down, ´Neither do I.´"

Bruce Galway sends this story of the

INDIAN MATING CALL

Two Indians and a Tennessee hillbilly were walking through the woods. All of a sudden one of the Indians ran up a hill to the mouth of a small cave.

"Wooooo! Wooooo! Wooooo!" he called into the cave and listened closely until he heard an answering, "Wooooo! Wooooo! Woooooo!" He then tore off his clothes and ran into the cave.

The hillbilly was puzzled and asked the remaining Indian what it was all about. "Was that Indian crazy or what?"

The Indian replied "No, It is our custom during mating season when Indian men see cave, they holler ´Wooooo! Wooooo! Wooooo!´ into the opening. If they get an answer back, it means there´s a beautiful woman in there waiting for us."

Just then they came upon another cave. The second Indian ran up to the cave, stopped, and hollered, "Wooooo! Wooooo! Wooooo!" Immediately, there was the answer. "Wooooo! Wooooo! Wooooo!" from deep inside. He also tore off his clothes and ran into the opening.

The hillbilly wandered around in the woods alone for a while, and then spied a third large cave. As he looked in amazement at the size of the huge opening, he was thinking, "Hoo, man! Look at the size of this cave! It´s bigger than those the Indians found. There must be some really big, fine women in this cave!" He stood in front of the opening and hollered with all his might, "Wooooo! Wooooo! Wooooo!"

Like the others, he then heard an answering call, "WOOOOOOOOO, WOOOOOOOOO, WOOOOOOOOO!"

With a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face, he raced into the cave, tearing off his clothes as he ran.

The following day, the headline of the local newspaper read....

NAKED HILLBILLY RUN OVER BY TRAIN

FROM THE EDITOR´S DESKTOP

Thursday morning I went to the Royal Columbian Hospital to have a heart monitor installed. Fortunately, I had taken a book with me, so the hour and a half I had to wait to register passed reasonably quickly. They were installing a new computer system and obviously it either still had bugs in it, or the staff had not mastered the new system.

When I finally got to the cardiology department, a nurse fastened about six discs onto my chest, each with a long wire dangling from it, and these plugged into a small monitor which hung around my neck on a cord. With some tinkering we managed to get the monitor into my pants pocket and the excess wires bundled together and tucked into the top of my pants. I didn´t look quite so pregnant as I had when it all hung down in front. All those wires reminded me of the nest of wires behind my computer.

For 24 hours I lived with this contraption, and Friday I turned up at the hospital again to have it removed. I was glad I didn´t have hair on my chest! Nurses, of course, are ruthless about yanking off devices fastened on with crazy glue. Left on my own, it would have taken me hours to pry them loose.

Of course too I was not told the results of the monitoring. A doctor will compare the record of my heartbeats with the admittedly almost-empty diary I had kept for the given time. I didn´t notice any symptoms that could be attributed to my heart, unless perennially-cold feet could somehow be connected.

I had previously ventured into the local walk-in clinic, along with many other ex-patients of my ailing doctor, and had drawn a matter-of-fact older doctor, who read through my medical records, took my blood pressure, listened to my heart, prescribed new medications, and told me to have to results of the heart monitoring sent to him. He also told me to go back to see him in a week, so for the moment I am being well looked after.

If they find nothing abnormal about my heart, the reasons for my two visits to the emergency ward will remain unknown, and I will still be a woman of mystery. Next time I go into that green grocer´s I will wear dark glasses so they won´t recognize me!

SUGGESTED WEBSITES

Bruce Galway suggests this site with a video of Damian Aspinall´s reunion with wild gorilla, Kwibi:

Pat Moore sends this link to a video about Yosemite Falls, which has other videos on the same site which are also interesting:

Pat also suggests this site for the Air & Space Online Book Club:

Tom Williamson sends this link to a guitar virtuoso who is only three years old:

The controversial website WikiLeaks collects and posts highly classified documents and video. Founder Julian Assange talks to TED´s Chris Anderson about how the site operates, what it has accomplished - and what drives him. The interview includes graphic footage of a recent US airstrike in Baghdad: