Ballet at breakfast
HIGH drama the other morning at the Street Shelter for the Over Forties. It was a lovely summer’s day and the citizens were taking breakfast in the outside section, attacking the bacon and eggs with relish.
When suddenly – “A-a-a-aa-a-argh!” – a shriek like the howl of a banshee rent the air. The breakfasters looked up in astonishment to see that one of their number had leaped high into the air from his table, achieving that seeming moment of mid-air suspension in defiance of the law of gravity, as practised by Nijinsky and the other great masters of the Russian ballet. He had a vervet monkey clinging to his head.
Next the monkey sprang away, bounded across the road and sat on the fence of a house, itself highly agitated.
The Nijinsky simulator (let’s call him Leon) was in a state of shock. A woman breakfaster was lying on the floor in a serious state, convulsed with hysterical laughter. The rest of the breakfasters were rolling round in their chairs and choking on their food.
There are various theories as to what caused this scenario. Leon is a stalwart Maritzburg College man. One theory is that this was a Michaelhouse monkey exacting vengeance.
Another is that it was indeed a Michaelhouse monkey but it landed on Leon perchance. Its horror at finding itself clinging to a College cranium caused it to immediately spring away and bound across the road for safety, as it did.
Yet another – perhaps more realistic – is that the monkey was being chased out of Essenwood Park by a pair of screaming, dive-bombing Indian mynahs. It burst through a small hedge near where Leon was sitting and leapt for his head, no doubt mistaking it for a chunk of granite.
High drama. Never a dull moment at the Street Shelter.
New diplomacy?
IS BULLHORN diplomacy the future? The niceties of centuries of diplomacy to be replaced by national leaders bawling at one another through loudhailers?
Except, of course, that Twitter has replaced the bullhorn with a reach beyond anything the bullhorn can achieve, relying as it does on earshot.
Donald Trump seems to have given us a glimpse with his adolescent tweets about China and Taiwan that have caused consternation in the Pacific region, threatening to undo 40 years of American foreign policy and severely testing the Oriental reputation for inscrutability. This before he even becomes president.
You could call it a bullhorn in a Chinashop.
More alphabet
THAT wartime alphabet mentioned last week… reader Don Porter recalls a few more alternatives: E – Eve or Adam; G – (Chief) of Police; H – (Age) for Weight; O – Over the Garden Wall; P – silent as in bath; Q – for Billiards: R – ’Arf a Mo; S – Esther Williams; Y – Why for Heaven’s Sake; Z – Zephyr Breezes.
Re Esther Williams: “I loved her films and didn’t realise she made her 92nd year (1921 – 2013).
Meanwhile, Don Cockerell recalls that in the 1960s Bill Payn, the legendary DHS schoolmaster who fought in World Wars I and II, used to quote the alphabet. His version of the letter W – “Double you for half of me”.
Don also has rugby news. The Boks will no longer play Tests, instead 30 players will be sent to New Zealand to play in the Ranfurly Shield – provided all 30 can be on the field at the same time. Eina!
Tailpiece
IT’S a prenatal session. The room is full of pregnant women with their husbands.
The instructor says: “Ladies, remember that exercise is good for you. Walking is especially beneficial. It strengthens the pelvic muscles and will make delivery that much easier. Just pace yourself, make plenty of stops and try to stay on a soft surface like grass or a path.”
“Gentlemen, remember – you’re in this together. It wouldn’t hurt you to go walking with her. In fact, that shared experience would be good for you both.”
The room becomes quiet as the men absorb this information. One raises his hand. “Yes?” “I was just wondering if it would be all right if she carries a golf bag?”
Last word
A BOY can learn a lot from a dog: obedience, loyalty, and the importance of turning around three times before lying down. – Robert Benchley