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IN THIS ISSUE

• Zvonko Springer recalls an incident during an African holiday
• Tom Williamson forwards a tale about a vicious deer
• Dick Monaghan tells of a moving performance by a bagpiper
• Tony Lewis sends an essay in praise of golf
• Catherine Green forwards a novel solution to a parking problem
• Tom Kyle sends a story with a moral
• Carol Hansen, Jean Sterling, Marilyn Magid, and Tom suggest sites

Zvonko Springer writes about a road accident at Diani on the south coast of Mombasa:

THE COLOBUS MONKEYS

It was low tide at breakfast time so we decided to do some chores before the tide came back. We would go down to the beach to relax in our reserved long-chairs under a parasol of palm leaves later. With the incoming tide we be would able to wade into the sea in front of our favorite secluded cove.

We decided that Ljiljana would go shopping in the nearby bazaar some 300m outside the resort´s gate. When she left the restaurant, I went to our room to prepare everything for our usual daytime routine at the Diani beach. This beach stretches all along the Leisure Lodge Resort, our favorite place for many years. We were spending our winter holidays mostly in January there.

Some hours passed with me waiting in the room, so I got concerned about my wife´s too-long absence. I went to meet her in the hotel lobby, as she might have been delayed for some reason at the shopping mall. I was worried about Ljiljana as she had knee replacement surgery some months before and she could not yet walk in her usual vigorous way. At last I saw her, almost out of breath at the concierge´s desk, talking on the phone to somebody. A few moments later she told what has happened on the main road outside the compound and why she looked so troubled.

She had to pass by wood-carver´s stalls on her way back from the bazaar. As she was talking to some carvers she had known well for years, she heard a startlingly thump, as if a car had hit something soft. An animal whimper followed it instantly, and when she turned she saw two Colobus monkeys rushing into the nearby bush. Behind a smaller monkey, the second larger animal limped and swayed, obviously being the stricken one.

Ljiljana ran as fast she could after the car, shouting at the driver to stop. At last the car stopped and she caught up with it, exhausted and perspiring profusely. Nonetheless, she was still strong enough to shout at the driver, who got out of his car, obviously wondering why a white lady was so excited. He was an Englishman on holiday and obviously had not noticed or did not care that he had run over a Colobus monkey. Colobus monkeys are an endangered species in southern Kenya´s coastal forest regions.

A young Colobus sits on the steps of the hotel

After a few moments of utter confusion, tempers cooled down a little, so Ljiljana suggested to call to the local primate conservation office for help. One of the wood-carvers joined in and offered to show the unfortunate driver to the office, that was only about a mile down the road.

Ljiljana picked up her shopping bags and returned to the hotel to phone the office, alerting them to the accident. This was when I saw her talking on the phone to somebody of the Colobus Trust. Before long a young professional came looking for her and told her that they had found a Colobus female near the place she had run into the bush. However, the infant could not be traced. The monkey was so badly bruised that by the first diagnosis there was little hope for her survival, due doubtless to severe internal injuries.

Two days later, Ljiljana found a young Colobus (a small animal is colloquially called "toto") that sat shaking under a staircase. Alarmed, Ljiljana ran to the concierge to call the Wakaluzu office and within 20 minutes two young people appeared. In the meantime, somebody brought a cardboard box with holes cut in it for air for the monkey. One of the conservationist put the small animal gently into the box, e

A mature Colobus monkey sits on the footpath.

xplaining that the tiny creature was dehydrated and undernourished too. He thought that this was the child of the female Colobus that died soon after it was taken away. The prospects for survival for the young one were extremely low too.

Colobus monkeys (family Cercopithecudae; subfamily: Colobinae) are found in Africa and Asia. The African species include the olive, red, and pied ones. The pied Colobus include the black, western pied, Angola pied, Geoffrey´s pied, and the Guereza.

More than 400 Angolan Colobus monkeys have been identified in the Diani region of the south coast of Mombasa - the highest concentration of this species. Overall, some 2000 species are estimated in the ICUN (World Conservation Union) red data list, so the Angolan Colobus is considered largely endangered in Kenya. The Colobus Trust completed the first count ever of Colobus monkey in Kenya. It is believed the species´ declining numbers results from the forest fragmentation along the Coast.

The local primate conservation is known under the name Wakaluzu Trust, Friends of the Colobus monkey. Wakaluzu is the native name for the Colobus monkeys, given by the local Digo people who live in the Diani region. One Colobus is called Mkuluzu; many are called Wakaluzu. Nowadays the Colobus monkey is called Mbega in the local colloquial. For those interested, the address of the Colobus Trust is:

Wakaluzu Trust, Friends of the Colobus Monkey, http://www.colobustrust.org or visit the blog at http://colobus.wildlifedirect.org/ for regular updates.

Tom Williamson sends this story, which is supposed to be true:

ROPING A DEER

I had this idea that I was going to rope a deer, put it in a stall, feed it up on corn for a couple of weeks, then kill it and eat it. The first step in this adventure was getting a deer.

I figured that, since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not seem to have much fear of me when we are there (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck not four feet away), it should not be difficult to rope one, get up to it and toss a bag over its head (to calm it down), then hog tie it and transport it home.

I filled the cattle feed, then hid down at the end with my rope.

The cattle, having seen the roping thing before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it.

After about 20 minutes, my deer showed up - three of them. I picked out a likely-looking one, stepped out from the end of the feeder, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me.

I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold. The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell it was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation.

I took a step towards it ... it took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope and then received an education. The first thing that I learned is that while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, it is spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.

That deer EXPLODED.

The second thing I learned is that pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range I could fight down with a rope and with some dignity.

A deer - no chance.

That thing ran and bucked and twisted and pulled. There was no controlling it and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer on a rope was not nearly as good an idea as I had originally imagined.

The only up side is that they do not have as much stamina as many other animals. A brief 10 minutes later, it was tired and not nearly as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me when I managed to get up. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head. At that point, I had lost my taste for corn-fed venison. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope.

I figured if I just let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slowly and painfully somewhere. At the time, there was no love at all between me and that deer. At that moment, I hated the thing, and I would venture a guess that the feeling was mutual.

Despite the gash in my head and the several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer´s momentum by bracing my head against various large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly enough to recognize that there was a small chance that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in, so I didn´t want the deer to have to suffer a slow death, so I managed to get it lined back up in between my truck and the feeder - a little trap I had set beforehand ... kind of like a squeeze chute.

I got it to back in there and I started moving up so I could get my rope back.

Did you know that deer bite? They do! I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite somebody, so I was very surprised when I reached up there to grab that rope and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist.

Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like being bitten by a horse where they just bite you and then let go. A deer bites you and shakes its head almost like a pit bull. They bite HARD and it hurts.

The proper thing to do when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and shaking instead. My method was ineffective. It seemed as if the deer was biting and shaking for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds.

I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now), tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the tendons out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose. That was when I got my final lesson in deer behaviour for the day.

Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up on their back feet and strike right about head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp. I learned a long time ago that when an animal - like a horse - strikes at you with its hooves and you can´t get away easily, the best thing to do is try to make a loud noise and make an aggressive move towards the animal.

This will usually cause it to back down a bit so you can escape.

This was not a horse. This was a deer, so obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a woman and tried to turn and run.

The reason I had always been told NOT to try to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer may not be so different from horses after all, besides being twice as strong and three times as evil, because the second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down.

Now, when a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately leave. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What they do instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you while you are lying there crying like a little girl and covering your head.

I finally managed to crawl under the truck and the deer went away.

So now I know why when people go deer hunting they bring a rifle with a scope to sort of even the odds.

ED. NOTE: Snopes says this story is "undetermined", but could easily be true. At the bottom of their article is the statement that the man who wrote it did not explain his injuries because of fear of being accused of a crime by game wardens.

Dick Monaghan forwards this story, which has been revised since the last time it appeared here:

THE BAGPIPER

As a bagpiper, I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man who had no family or friends. The funeral was to be held at a cemetery in the remote countryside, and this man would be the first to be laid to rest there.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became lost. Being a typical man, I did not stop for directions, and finally arrived an hour late. I saw the backhoe and the crew was eating their lunch, but the hearse was nowhere in sight.

I apologized to the workers for my tardiness and stepped to the side of the open grave, where I saw the vault lid already in place.

I assured the workers I would not hold them up for long, but this was the proper thing to do. Still eating their lunch, the workers gathered around the grave. I played with all my heart and soul.

As I played, the workers began to weep. I played and I played like I´d never played before. I played everything from "Going Home," "The Lord is My Shepherd," to "Flowers of the Forest." I closed the lengthy session with "Amazing Grace" and walked to my car.

As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard one of the workers saying to another: "Sweet Jeezuz, Mary´n Joseph, I never seen nothin´ like that before, and I´ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."

Tony Lewis forwards this essay in praise of

THE WONDERFUL GAME OF GOLF

The following is not intended to offend fans of tennis, basketball, football, or baseball. It is, rather, an attempt to put everything in its proper perspective. Ever wonder why golf is growing in popularity and why people who don´t even play go to tournaments or watch it on TV?

The following truisms may shed some light: Golf is an honourable game, with the overwhelming majority of players being honourable people who don´t need referees. Golfers don´t have some of their players in jail every week. Golfers don´t kick dirt on, or throw bottles at, other people. Professional golfers are paid in direct proportion to how well they play.

Golfers don´t get per diem and two seats on a charter flight when they travel between tournaments. Golfers don´t hold out for more money, or demand new contracts, because of another player´s deal. Professional golfers don´t demand that the taxpayers pay for the courses on which they play. When golfers make a mistake, nobody is there to cover for them or back them.

The PGA raises more money for charity in one year than the NFL does in two.

You can watch the best golfers in the world up close, at any tournament, including the majors, all day every day for $25 or $30. The cost for even a nosebleed seat at the Super Bowl costs around $300 or more unless you buy it from scalpers, in which case it´s $1,000+. You can bring a picnic lunch to the tournament golf course, watch the best in the world, and not spend a small fortune on food and drink. Try that at one of the taxpayer-funded baseball or football stadiums. If you bring a soft drink into a ballpark, they´ll give you two options - get rid of it or leave.

In golf you cannot fail 70% of the time and make $9 million a season, like the best baseball hitters (.300 batting average) do.

Golf doesn´t change its rules to attract fans. Golfers have to adapt to an entirely new playing area each week. Golfers keep their clothes on while they are being interviewed. Golf doesn´t have free agency. In their prime, Palmer, Norman, and other stars, would shake your hand and say they were happy to meet you. In his prime Jose Canseco wore T-shirts that read "Leave Me Alone."

You can hear birds chirping on the golf course during a tournament. At a golf tournament, (unlike at taxpayer-funded sports stadiums and arenas) you won´t hear a steady stream of four-letter words and nasty name calling while you´re hoping that no one spills beer on you. Tiger hits a golf ball over twice as far as Barry Bonds hits a baseball.

And finally, golf courses don´t ruin the neighbourhood.

Catherine Green sends this one:

A SIMPLE SOLUTION

An Egyptian man walks into a bank in New York City and asks for the loan officer. He tells the loan officer that he is going to Egypt on business for two weeks and needs to borrow $5,000.

The bank officer tells him that the bank will need some form of security for the loan, so the Egyptian man hands over the keys to a new Ferrari parked on the street in front of the bank. He produces the title and everything checks out. The loan officer agrees to accept the car as collateral for the loan.

The bank´s president and its officers all enjoy a good laugh at the Egyptian for using a $250,000 Ferrari as collateral against a $5,000 loan.

An employee of the bank then drives the Ferrari into the bank´s underground garage and parks it there.

Two weeks later, the Egyptian returns, repays the $5,000 and the interest, which comes to $15.41.

The loan officer says, "Sir, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out and found that you are a multi-millionaire. What puzzles us is, why would you bother to borrow $5,000?"

The Egyptian replies: "Where else in New York City can I park my precious car for two weeks for only $15.41 and expect it to be there when I return?"

Tom Kyle forwards the story of

THE RETIREMENT DINNER

A priest was being honoured at his retirement dinner after 25 years in the parish.

A leading local politician and member of the congregation was chosen to make the presentation and to give a little speech at the dinner. However, he was delayed, so the priest decided to say his own few words while they waited:

"I got my first impression of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first person who entered my confessional told me he had stolen a television set, and when questioned by the police, was able to lie his way out of it.

"He had stolen money from his parents, embezzled from his employer, had an affair with his boss´s wife, taken illegal drugs, and a few other no-nos. I was appalled.

"But as the days went on I learned that my people were not all like that and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people."

Just as the priest finished his talk, the politician arrived, full of apologies for being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and gave his talk:

"I´ll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived," he said. "In fact, I had the honour of being the first person to go to him for confession."

The moral of the story: Never, never, ever be late for appointments!

SUGGESTED WEBSITES FOR THIS WEEK

Carol Hansen and Marilyn Magid both suggest this site, which is reminiscent of the dancing scene in London station:

http://arunaurl.com/31fk

Carol also sends the URL for a video of amazing skippers:

http://soonereyo.blip.tv/#1826380

Jean Sterling writes: Here is a link to a "how it´s done" magic trick:

http://www.metacafe.com/watch/2698952/ criss_angels_walking_on_water_how_its_done/

Tom Kyle says you will be hearing about this Scottish singer a lot:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

For fans of either Harry Belafonte or the Muppets, here is a reprise:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AjovHGK-TA&feature=related

With unemployment at staggering figures, this site is more necessary than ever, and it takes less than a minute to click on it and the good causes bundled with it:

http://www.thehungersite.com/