22 January 2006

Good morning on a cold, frosty, gray and dreary foggy day, in marked contrast to the last couple of days which have been bright, sunny and positively spring-like. It seems, if the weather people are to be believed (are they ever?) that we are set to inherit the freezing Arctic conditions which the Russians have enjoyed over the past week – temperatures of -30 degrees centigrade (something in the region of -25 Fahrenheit, I gather) which sounds to me to be taking things just a few steps too far. No doubt it won’t be as grim as they are suggesting but just the thought of it makes one want to put on a few extra layers. Continue reading “22 January 2006”

15 January 2006 – Amusements

The other day I was talking with my buddy Iggy Kowalski about people we knew, and it seemed like he knew everybody. So I said to him, “Iggy, it seems like you know everyone in the world!”

Iggy said, “I do! I know every single person in the world.”

Well, this was ridiculous of course and I told him so, and he gave me three tries to name people he didn’t know. I thought about it for a minute, and then said, “I’ll bet you don’t know my butcher, Stan Marciano.”

“Oh sure,” says Iggy. “Stan used to come over to my house every Saturday for my famous Shish-kabob dinner! How’s his son Ralph? Still getting into trouble with that skateboard of his?”

Foiled, I thought some more. I had to think of someone who lived out of the city, out of the State. My old friend from school on the other coast, Joseph Bakerman, came to mind. “Oh yeah – I met Joe at a shoeshine convention – he does my taxes and his wife Kate sends me the most wonderful fruitcake every Christmas! Great people.”

Finally, in exasperation, I say, “OK, wise-guy, I’ll bet you don’t know the Pope!”

 “The Pope!” says Iggy. “We grew up together! Used to play pin-the-tail on the heretic!”

I had never known Iggy to be a liar, but in desperation I said, “Prove it!”

“OK,” he said. “Next week is Easter. Let’s you and me go to the Vatican and I’ll introduce you.” This was a little extreme, but I had to stick to my guns and so I accepted. When our plane arrived at the airport there were huge crowds that just got thicker as we made our way to St. Peter’s Square. We tried to find a way in around the back, but to no avail. Iggy said, “Look, I’m a small guy and can slip through the crowds easily. Will it be enough proof for you if I stand on the balcony with the Pope during his address?”

“If you’re standing with the Pope during his Easter address, I will believe that you know him.”

Iggy slipped off through the masses, and I tried to work my way around to the front of St. Peter’s Basilica. But I just couldn’t get to a spot where I could see the balcony. Way off in the distance I saw a hill from which I could surely have a direct line of sight. It was in the countryside, way out of town, and I barely made it there before the end of the address. But I couldn’t see the balcony well enough; it was too far away! Off in the distance, I saw an old man, herding his goats. I thought to myself, “Surely he must have good eyesight to keep track of all those goats running around everywhere.” I approached him and digging deep for Italian phrases said, “Excuse me, sir, but can you see that big building way over there with all the statues on top?”

Squinting into the distance, he said, “Yes, yes, I believe I can.”

“And can you see a large balcony above the main door in the middle of the building?” He squinted even more, his bushy eyebrows closing in on his eyes.

“Yes, yes, I believe I can.”

“And is there anyone standing on that balcony?”

He squinted even more, which hadn’t seemed possible. “Yes, yes, I believe there is.”

“And,” I said, “can you tell me who is standing on that balcony?”

His face did something I had never seen before, and I could hardly believe that he could see through those bushy eyebrows. He peered into the distance for a long while, and then said, “Well, I don’t know who that guy in the big pointed hat is, but he’s standing next to Iggy Kowalski!”


 

8 January 2006

Good morning to you all and be prepared to share in a fantastic discovery which I have recently unearthed and one which will undoubtedly bring fame and fortune to us all. (Well, I can see how it will bring fame although I must confess the “fortune” bit may not be so obvious at the moment but I am sure that the more financially astute amongst us will find a way of converting this discovery into hard currency). I am already preparing to write it up for New Scientist and other leading scientific journals but I thought I should let you all in on the news before it becomes more widely known. Continue reading “8 January 2006”

8 January 2006 – Amusements

A man is lost in the desert. He used up the last of his water three days ago and he’s lying, gasping, on the sand, when in the distance he suddenly hears a voice calling “Mush! Mush!”

Not trusting his ears he turns his head and there it is again, closer this time — “Mush! Mush!”

Propping himself up on one elbow he squints against the sun and sees, of all things, an Eskimo in a fur coat driving a sled with a team of huskies across the dunes. Thinking that it’s a hallucination, he blinks and shakes his head, but it’s for real! He painfully lifts one arm and in a cracked voice calls, “He-elp!”

The Eskimo pulls the sled up by him, the huskies panting in the heat, and he says to the Eskimo, “I don’t know what you’re doing here, or why, but thank God you are! I’ve been wandering around this desert for days, my water’s all gone and I’m completely lost!”

The perspiring Eskimo looks down at him and says, “You think YOU’RE lost!” Continue reading “8 January 2006 – Amusements”

1 January 2006

Happy New Year to you all and what a splendidly splendid New Year it has been thus far. Ms Playchute and I actually made it as far as celebrating the New Year in Paris this year and then, of course, we were awakened at midnight here by the enormous fireworks display which makes Byfield famous in these parts. (I’m sure I have written in the past but we have the tremendous pleasure of living in the same village as some fellow who works with fireworks and so whenever there is the most merest of excuses, the village is treated to a fireworks display which would put most large cities to shame.) This year’s pyrotechnic demonstration lasted only about thirty minutes but when you have already been asleep for some time the earth shattering, window rattling and bed shaking concussive explosions do tend to provide a bit of a surprise. The good news – Pippa is now clearly completely deaf and felt no need to join us in bed which is, believe me, a considerable relief. Continue reading “1 January 2006”

1 January 2006 – Amusements

One night a wife found her husband standing over their baby’s crib. Silently she watched him. As he stood looking down at the sleeping infant, she saw on his face a mixture of emotions: disbelief, doubt, delight, amazement, enchantment, scepticism.

Touched by this unusual display and the deep emotions it aroused, with eyes glistening she slipped her arm around her husband.

“A penny for your thoughts,” she said.

“It’s amazing!” he replied. “I just can’t see how anybody can make a crib like that for only $46.50.” Continue reading “1 January 2006 – Amusements”