Doctor Dolittle talks to the animals...

Before setting out to work this morning, I was sitting in my office having just made a call when it happened. I shared what i can only describe as a 'moment' with one of my cats (Maggie). I'm not really an animal sorta person, in that I'm not over emotional about them and I only keep them to keep out the local gangs of feral mice. Cats are the lesser of two evils. The way I see it... cat's have bladder control which pushes them up the desirable chain.So I have cats.

Anyway, Maggie was sitting watching me at my desk with that look in her eye that said 'why don't you bugger off to work so i can root around in the kitchen for second helpings of breakfast?', when i heard a strange noise. Maggie could obviously hear it but neither of us recognise it. So we just sat staring at each other for a few seconds sharing the same thought '"What's that?" (I've never shared a moment with a cat before and i should probably worry about that more than I am)

Literally seconds later a big bumble bee floated in between us, bumbling "hello! Hello, can I live here with you?" Maggie got a scare and leapt up.. all four feet into the air at the same time before her hunting instincts kicked in to start her stalking the prospective lodger in earnest.

I managed to scoop the poor wee soul into a cup and empty it out the front door. But it seems that bumble bee's not only look a bit dozy, turns out they are. Ten minutes later when I was finally leaving for work I opened the door and it was still there bumping into the door! I had a word and said it should only come back when it learnt to ring the bell and no doubt feeling ashamed, it floated off.

Now I can't be sure of course, but on the way home I had to make a stop at a friends house on a different farm and as i pulled on to their track a bumble bee decided to hitched a ride down to the farm! I had to ask it to leave as it refused to sit still and put it's seat belt on and reluctantly it too flew off.

It seems that my animal magnetism is in full swing this week as I've been attracting all sorts of wildlife, including a rather persistent gull. I was walking out of a new shopping centre in town and had decided to have lunch on the hoof (excuse the pun). Laden with carrier bags and armed with a Markies sandwich I headed back to the car and as i pulled out the first triangle I rounded the corner of the bus station.

I was only two bites into enjoying the goods when a eagle eyed gull decided to take a closer look. Having swooped down it obviously realised ham and mustard was its favourite variety and readjusted its interest from 'passing' to 'infiltrate'.... I have to confess I'm a bit scared of birds so the appearance of a great big one at my right shoulder made me scream. Lucky for me and everyone else around me, the scream was muffled by the third bite of my sandwich. However, the spray from my open mouth obviously gave the gull a taste for more.

The gull knew i was running scared and every way i turned it appeared. Left, then right, then left again. Taunting me... willing me to drop my sandwich and run away. But I wouldn't give it up. The row of people waiting at the bus stops watched me with amusement as the gull and I danced the 'way of the sandwiches'. One smart arsed passerby shouted "don't feed the seagulls, its illegal!" Had i been less flustered i would've shouted back "Have a word with the gull, cos stealing is also illegal".

Eventually, I did what centuries of warriors have done... I hid, by running into a newspaper shop and panting declared to the startled shop assistant that I was saving my sandwich!

She gave me a curious look and a small smile and offered me a plastic bag to save my sandwich in! I couldn't face the explanation so I said 'thank you' and left.

Fun Floundering or just Carping On?

Some days are good and things trickle along swimmingly......

FISH FISH FISH FISH FISH FISH FISH FISH

But other days i find myself tripping over pedant after pedant.. mathematically speaking the chances of this anomaly are surprisingly inconsistent....

talking of pedants........

DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG

what chemical substance do these people inhale?... reminds me of problem of Pi. No i'm not talking apple, rhubarb or chicken - tho' ... it's the excess of Pi more to the point. If Pi was only calculated to 47 decimal places, it would be enough to encircle the whole of the known universe with a margin of error of only the width of a single proton.

ANEMONE ANEMONE ANEMONE ANEMONE

You'd think that would be enough.. right?..... oh no.... some lovely people are driven to continue to calculate to over 50 billion decimal places!!...

FASTIDIOUS FASTIDIOUS FASTIDIOUS

I mean - why would anyone calculate and continue to calculate millions upon millions of an irrational and pointless number?.... What absurd personality trait drives any sane person to spend countless hours checking for 'right' numbers?....

MISDIRECTION MISDIRECTION

I guess the answer is simple and almost universal..... it makes them feel big n clever to point out the flaws in others.....

..............what a swell party this is!

Suitably Numb

I'd had made the appointment sometime time ago now. Squirreled away in my diary as a future event, made long enough in advance as to allow me plenty of time to come around to the idea that I needed a filling.

I'm not scared of the Dentist in the slightest - but I do need some time to psych myself up for the event. So swinging myself up the spiral staircase on F Day, I felt mentally prepared. Little did I know that my Dentist has been studying the many benefits of supermarket marketing strategies.

What started as one filling turned out to be - buy one get one free! The trouble was that one was on the upper left hand side and the other the upper right. I did suggest that I schedule another appointment but, ever the economist he insisted - No point wasting two appointments, and you're here now!

Two injections left me gagging at the residual taste and unable to feel most of my top lip and half my nose. I don't mind my lips being frozen, but I've found it to be the oddest sensation in the world - knowing that you're breathing but being unable to feel the air passing up one of your nostrils. I wasn't the only one who thought it was odd, my brain was experiencing involuntary bouts of mini panics that I wasn't getting air and couldn't breath.

This reminds me of the time when I was about 8 years old when I got a flat caramel toffee stuck to the roof of my mouth. Penny sweets in my day were large enough to feel like they could restrict your whole throat and i started to flick my tongue around the edges of the toffee trying to break the suction, when this had no effect I even started to run around in a panic. For a brief moment I felt like I was gonna die, Luckily salvation came before anyone else witnessed my swan song. As I had a Zen realisation which managed to penetrated the panic. That I could indeed save myself from the brink of death by just using my pinkie to flick the toffee off the roof of my mouth. Boy did I feel silly.

And so it was on with the business, which involved me being opened mouth and despite being as accommodating as I could physically manage, I began to suspect that my Dentist and his assistant had made a wager about how many pieces of equipment and fingers they could get into my mouth. Whilst I lay marvelling at the until then undiscovered Tardis quality of my mouth, I lay back and began to imagine that they were playing a reverse version of 'Dentistry 'Buckaroo'. How much could they really pack in there before she blows!

To add to the excitement throughout the procedure - questions were asked of me, which remained unanswered; rivulets of saliva ran down my chin as a well appointed waterfall; and my neck was twisted into positions that only the TV toothpaste brusher with the flip top head could master.

Once it was over my dentist nonchalantly asked "Are you OK?"' to which I replied, "NO, I've just had my filling ratio increased by 100%; half my face is numb and my mouth feels like its been stretched to look like Wallace's widest grin." His reply? - "So you're OK then" See you in six months!

Roll credits - join in next time for another thrilling episode of 'Dentistry Buckaroo!"

A Particular Set of Skills

Watched the movie 'Taken' starring Liam Neeson last night. It was the second time I've seen the film and watching it again brought to mind how gripped my brother and I were seeing it for the first time together.

Tension, drama, suspense and anticipation - the film had it all. Silence held us right to the very end. As the credits rolled my brothers announced - "If that happens to James, he's fu*ked, cos I can't do any of that"... we laughed and the residual tension the film had created, melted.

Remembering my brother's one liner made me laugh out loud even tho' I was on my own. It occurs to me that 'Laughter' really is THE most powerful way of dealing with the absurdities that life presents us.

Neeson may have a particular set of skills, but I doubt they would help him cope better with crazy revelations? Take work as an example... there was the time when Moomin Mama (the boss) employed a new member of staff on the basis that she had a designer handbag with her at the interview. I try to imagine Neeson's reaction, serious, broody and vengeful and it occurs to me that laughter is the one survival tool that Neeson didn't have... but I sure do!

.... LONG LIVE LAUGHS!

Evolution is great, just not for you!

Reading recent accounts of the death of Boa Sr and with her the Great Andamanese language ‘Bo’, as an unquestionably a historical flag moment was sad to read. Boa Sr was reported to be the oldest of the remaining 52 descendants of the oldest human cultures on Earth and it seem an inevitability that extinction of more than this one lady and one language is just around the corner.

Perhaps the United Kingdom-based human rights organisation ‘Survival International’ is justified in serving us an ominous warning. The facts cannot be denied, these and other ancient tribes are likely to die out or be diluted with incoming settlers under the weight of progression. But is extinction not as natural as birth?

These reports left me wondering if the seemingly noble attempts of those fighting to preserve the past are as wholesome as they appear on the surface. Are the efforts being made by western crusaders any less paternalistic than the colonial policies that first brought poverty, disease and a class divide that enslaved so many cultures around the globe?

Nothing shaped this idea more, than the comment made by the Survival International’s Director Stephen Corry, where that the death of Boa Sr and the resulting extinction of the Bo language meant that a unique part of human society was now just a memory and that “this must not be allowed to happen to the other tribes of the Andaman Islands”. Surely preservation isn’t natural and the idea of a manufactured preservation would be nothing more than a smokescreen for a human zoo.

Imagine a zoo containing people who are provided for in order to maintain their conditions to be as ‘natural’ as possible. Introductions and interactions would be limited to scientists, studying local traditions and customs and advisors to politicians, comfortable enough to make consult with the tribes in order to legislate in their best interests. We all know how much politicians act as objective guardians of the people they serve. And for purely economic and fiscal reasons, selected trading operatives – all fair-trade of course could be approved. What could go wrong?

However, well intended preservation attempts might be, there is the possibility that they are misguided and laced with double standards and irony. Our history books are littered with examples of integration and domination of peoples and their cultures, resulting in the rebirth of a new bastardised version of society.

In Scotland there rages a similar fight to preserve the Gaelic language from the very fate that the introduction of Gaelic heralded to Pictish tongues spoken long before Gaelic had ever been whispered over Scottish soil. Those consumed with conservation fail to acknowledge the path that laid history up to the present.

Perhaps this illustrates the romantic nature of humans. To remember the good, ignore the bad and re-write the downright awful. It’s so easy to romanticise the past eras when you are no longer living the reality first hand. Boa Sr herself was reported to have said that she thought a neighbouring tribe ‘Jarawa’ were lucky to live away from settlers. This statement is duplicitous; yes Boa Sr could be denouncing the arrival of incomers and their untraditional ways. Or perhaps it is nothing more than the nostalgic reminiscing of an old woman looking back upon a sugar coated romantic history. Given that the tribes embraced some benefits from settlers (guns and arms to name one) I think the latter is more likely.

Interestingly, another, less reported story this month involving the elderly female leader of the Ewenki tribe. Suo Maliya lives where her people have roamed for centuries in the forests of the Greater Hinggan Mountains, in Mongolia. This nomadic tribe are referred to as “China’s last hunting tribe” but Suo Maliya is the last female who still follows the traditional ways of the Aolu Guya Ewenki Suo’s tribe. When she dies, the remaining Ewenki will become a settled tribe, occupying a thriving community built for them by the Local Government 5 years ago.

In that short space of time, most of the tribe have decided that the comforts of settled housing and the enjoyment of increased incomes are a fair exchange for the freedom of roaming the forest and tradition. It is a choice most are happy to make.

In one family two brothers may have different opinions, but their choices influence the future for each other. One brother, Yi Su is clear, “I'm not interested in those things that Yi Lie does. I've heard enough from my grandfather about those forest stories”. Whilst his brother Yi Lie is one of the few tribesmen who are happy taking care of his the reindeers the forest.

At the moment Yi Lie is able to continue with tradition but the overall choice of the tribe to inhabit the village means that maintaining a nomadic lifestyle will become less and less sustainable and will inevitably lead to those traditions being changed or abandoned. The Scottish community of St. Kilda fell to the same cultural fate back in the 60’s when there were too few active people to sustain the communities way of life and the Island’s inhabitants had to be evacuated.

So to my mind these changes are not new; but if the traditions are well recorded then they don’t become extinct they live on as memories and recorded history. Surely this is where efforts should be made not to forget but to sing our historical stories loud and clear for all to celebrate and remember.

Close Encounters of the Catholic Kind

You know how it goes right? When people decide something about you and its so firmly cemented that reality and time can do nothing to dislodge it? Well a friend of mine, Gail, has categorised me just like that. She has me in the 'Catholic club'.

To be fair It's true, I was raised a Roman Catholic, but despite me seeing the hypocrisy of Religion and at the tender age of ten turned my back on it by refusing to be confirmed, Gail still sees my parent's child rearing beliefs as merged with my own.

She's not a terribly close friend and for the major part I don't mind too much. Who wouldn't enjoy being the muse of someone's amusing stories? As i point out often to Gail, I'm the giving sort and care in the community isn't a political stance its a lifestyle choice.

We have on a few occasions spoken about the bizarre rituals of Catholicism and chuckled heartily about them together - always with the codicil added by Gail of 'you Catholics are weird' leaving me yet again in no doubt that my denunciation of my parent's religion doesn't get me off the hook that easily or even at all.

This in mind, I wasn't surprised when we met for tea and Gail started regaling me of her recent encounter of the Catholic Kind. She had sad cause to attend a Catholic funeral. I think from the way she started the story, she was slightly impressed by the pomp and circumstance, that the ceremony was a very fitting end to a live well lived. Who wouldn't be delighted by a 'grand send off'? However, as she continued her storied it seems that brevity of grand send offs is better than long ones and Gail got bored.

So I was expecting 'yadda yadda yadda' followed by 'gripe gripe gripe'.. but to my utter surprise she said' You Catholics turned out to be friendlier than I thought'. And then stopped and smiled as if I'd understand her meaning.

I didn't. When I didn't smile back with understanding she looked a bit irritated and explained. 'You know the bit where you all stand up and introduce yourself to everyone', she insisted.

Nope. I've no idea what you're talking about I confessed. To which she spun me a wilting glare. 'You know.. the part in the service when you shake everyone's hand and say 'pleased to meet you'... 'pleased to meet you'....

ah .... I said quietly, swallowing down a fit of laughter. "You mean the part when you shake everyone's had and say 'peace be with you'?"

Oh joy, what followed was a delightful panic as realisation dawned that she'd mid-funeral been saying the wrong thing to the throngs of Catholics around her, mourning their loved one.

Try as I might to assure her that I was sure they all appreciated the smiles under the circumstances she is convinced that she ruined the service! Best part was when she stopped panicking, exonerated herself with a simple 'You Catholics!'

MERRY CHRISTMAS - GOD BLESS US EVERYONE!

Forgotten how much I like drawing and doodling.. perhaps I should be creating my Christmas Cards for next year!... In the meantime.. here's a sneaky peek readers