Home  >> Stories  >> The Tale Spinner #2012-13

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IN THIS ISSUE

• Kate Brookfield writes of the bureaucratic hurdles they encountered
• We get letters from Doris Dignard and Jean Sterling
• The editor recalls a visit to Madeira
• Bruce Galway forwards a warning about bottle bombs
• Catherine Nesbitt shares a number of church bulletin bloopers
• Pat Moore sends an essay about an old wringer washing machine
• Marilyn Magid tells of an embarrassing senior moment
• Some men´s opinions on golf and sex
• Sites are recommended by Anne Rahamut, Bruce Galway, Catherine Green, Catherine Nesbitt, Gerrit deLeeuw, and Pat Moore

Kathleen Brookfield encounters yet more visa problems en route to

INDIA

Before we could fly to Russia, we had another visa problem. After we left Canada, there had been the now famous invasion of the Sikh´s Golden Temple, where they found a hoard of stored weapons. The Prime Minister of India, Mrs Gandhi, blamed Canada and the UK for harbouring malcontents. She had issued a new law demanding visas from visitors to India from those countries. We had one day to get the newly-required Indian visa in London. But when we got to the Indian Embassy, it was surrounded by an angry crowd of ex-patriot East Indians. Michael decided against trying to get through the crowd, so we visited the largest toy shop in the world instead.

The evening news reported that petrol bombs were thrown at the Indian Embassy that day, so we did the right thing. We would have to get our visas for India in Moscow. And that´s what we did ... eventually. Trying to find a photographer to take passport photos in the Soviet Union in 1984 was the hardest task. This time it was Michael´s job to do the running around, coping with the red tape. Unfortunately, he missed most of the tours in Moscow. Instead, he spent his time in Moscow waiting in government departments and standing in line-ups.

I had always thought that the British had the reputation for standing in lines, but the Soviet Union topped it, in my opinion. In our two- week visit there, I would estimate we spent the equivalent of four days of that time standing in line-ups; Mike spent five. I did not waste my time and managed to read about five books standing in line- ups. Our visit to Russia is the subject of another story. In this account, it is merely our stepping stone to India.

In the two weeks we visited Leningrad (now back to St. Petersburg), the Crimean coast, including Yalta, and Moscow.

We had a vodka and caviare sendoff with our fellow travellers, who had another day in Moscow before returning to London. But the happy effects of that party were long gone by the time we eventually stepped into the Air India plane at Moscow airport. If the large, cold, empty Moscow airport in the middle of the night, with no services, was the equivalent of purgatory, then stepping into the Air India plane was like entering heaven. More realistically, it was like returning to the real warm world of colour, sounds, smells, and friendly human interaction.

We had seen many interesting places, historic buildings, and some of the world´s best art works; had enjoyed the company of the other tourists in our group; but smiling faces from people in the Russian service industry were definitely not on the list. We learned later that during the time of the Communist government of the USSR, jobs were more often assigned, so satisfaction in work experience was low.

In contrast, we were welcomed by sunny smiling faces of the Air India crew looking so beautiful in their bright red saris. The smell of a hot meal, and comfortable seating was like entering another world - that of the largest democracy in the world, as Indians love to describe their country.

All our flights in Russia had been at night, so we could not see anything from the windows. The only refreshment on a long flight was a small cup of water. Dawn was breaking as we left Moscow behind us. Now, I was excited and positive about the year ahead of us.

CORRESPONDENCE

Doris Dignard writes: I am so pleased with all of the sites that people are sending in and I am thankful to be able to get them. I look at all of them; some are not of interest to me but I check them all to make sure. I hope people will continue to send these to you, and that you will continue to put them in your newsletter.

ED. NOTE: The suggested websites have become an important feature of the Spinner, and I am always delighted to have recommendations from readers.

Jean Sterling writes: Since swimming is my "thing," I really enjoyed Pat´s Moore´s story in last week´s issue. A flip turns is basically a somersault in the water - you kind of throw your feet over your head. New swimmers might want to practice doing this in the middle of the pool at first. It´s important to exhale when doing a flip turn - otherwise you get water up your nose. You quickly learn to do that as water up the nose is not fun. If you put "swimming perfect exercise" into a search engine, you will get a bunch of links to explore.

Many years ago now, and I´m not even going to figure out how many, I went to Denmark during a summer vacation from my job as a school librarian, and from there I flew to

MADEIRA

The runway on Madeira was so short that departing planes carried only enough fuel to reach Portugal, some 700 miles away. The islands are volcanic in origin and it was difficult to carve out a sufficiently long, flat area for an airport. Fortunately, I was unaware of its limitations when I landed there from Copenhagen, nor did I know of the hazards of taking off on the return flight. Shortly after I returned home, a plane did not achieve liftoff, and crashed onto the rocks at the end of the runway.

What an exciting introduction to the island of flowers, floating in the Atlantic 400 miles off the coast of Africa and 700 miles from Portugal, which has owned the archipelago since 1420. Madeira has been a port of call ever since for seafarers, of whom Christopher Columbus was a notable example; indeed, he married the daughter of the governor of Porto Santo, one of the islands.

The airport was not the only excitement; the taxi ride into Funchal around hair-raising cliff roads was enough to raise anyone´s blood pressure. The drivers in Madeira are undoubtedly related to those of Portugal, who are the most aggressive I have ever encountered; which is surprising, as the people are quiet and pleasant when not engaged in automobile roulette.

I had found a package tour in Copenhagen with a company which owned the plane we flew on and the hotel we stayed in for the next two weeks. With two meals a day and the flight and a small suite, the total cost came to $265! For $35 I got a single supplement, and my other expenses consisted of lunches and tours and incidentals. Ah, but this was long ago....

Madeira (click to enlarge a bit)

It is hard to believe, after travelling all day to reach the north coast of the island, that Madeira is only 57 km long and 22 km wide (about 35 x 15 miles.) The land is mountainous and inhospitable; all the farms were carved out of the rock and terraced entirely by hand. There were no horses; wagons were drawn by bullocks; milk cows were put into little teepees at birth and didn´t leave them until they died - there was no land for pasture, so no place for them to graze. I can speak only of conditions as they were at the time I was there; things may have changed since then.

Our hotel was a couple of miles from the centre of town, in the middle of a banana orchard. Every morning was heralded by the cry of roosters in the yards of the very poor people who lived in the immediate vicinity. Most of the supplies used in the hotel were imported, apart from the small bananas which grew at its doorstep. Local people were employed in the hotel and its dining room, and we were urged not to "spoil" them by giving them too-large tips!

Most mornings I walked into Funchal, a city of some 120,000, along a route bordered by flowers. I remember seeing four-feet-high poinsettias growing wild. In spite of the harsh terrain, fruits and vegetables and flowers grew in profusion, and one could see the results in the huge market, along with fish caught that morning.

Other days, I climbed up the surrounding hills, walking carefully beside the flumes that carried water to the farms from the mountains. I always took my sketch book and pastels, and every evening I would try to paint what I had seen during the day. The results were less than memorable, but I enjoyed the process. If Winston Churchill could paint in Madeira, why not I?

Funchal is noted not only for its spectacular flowers but also for its magnificent churches and public buildings and its patterned tiled streets. The weather was warm and moist while I was there, but there were many huge trees casting their shade over the sidewalks, so it was not uncomfortable.

Speaking of weather, there must have been a sea mist lying south of the island, because one morning when I looked out my window, there was an island on the horizon which hadn´t been there before. I couldn´t believe my eyes, because before there had been nothing to see but water; now there was an island right off the coast. I wondered if those mists had made navigation difficult for the early sailing ships which had visited those waters.

One day I went on an excursion to the northern coast, as I mentioned. The road wound up and up over the mountains and down the other side, making a very long distance out of what was a short trip for the crow. When we came to the narrow road that clung to the cliffs hundreds of feet above the pounding Atlantic, I studied the flora on the land side; the view from the other side was frightening. At one place the road made such a sharp hairpin that the bus driver had to make it in two cuts; when he finally got round it, everyone clapped. Sheer relief, I´m sure.

We had lunch at the town we had been heading for, and after walking around to settle our nerves, we went back the same way we had come. The road did not go all the way round the island, so we had to backtrack. By the time we arrived back at the hotel, I had a profound respect for the men who had gouged those roads out of the rock, and for the men who drove them.

The island has long been a favourite vacation and retirement spot for the British, so there was no difficulty in making myself understood, unlike Portugal at that time. Madeira seemed to be a more relaxed place than Portugal, which I had previously visited; young men and women went around together without chaperones, and dress was less formal. And of course, it was teeming with tourists - tourism is its number-one industry.

Madeira is an interesting place to visit; at the time I was there, it was very reasonable, the people were friendly, the flowers were beautiful, the pace was relaxed, and the weather was sunny and warm.

ED. NOTE: In 2000, the airport was rebuilt, almost doubling the size of the runway. It was built out over the ocean on 180 columns, each about 230 feet tall. However, it is still ranked as the second most dangerous airport in Europe, after Gibraltar.

Bruce Galway forwards this warning about

BOTTLE BOMBS

Kids and others are putting Draino, tin foil, and a little water in plastic bottles and capping them, then leaving them on lawns, in mail boxes, in gardens, on driveways, etc., just waiting for you to pick them up, intending to put them in the rubbish, but you´ll never make it!

If a treated bottle is picked up and shaken even just a little - in about 30 seconds or less, it builds up enough gas which will explodes with enough force to remove some of your extremities. The liquid that comes out is boiling hot as well.

Don´t pick up any plastic bottles with liquid in them that are lying in your yard or in the gutter, etc. If the bottle explodes, you could have no fingers left, or sustain serious damage to your face and eyes.

Check it out at:

Catherine Nesbitt forwards these sentences (with all the bloopers) which supposedly appeared in church bulletins or were announced in church services:

CHURCH LADIES WITH TYPEWRITERS

The Fasting and Prayer Conference includes meals.

The sermon this morning: "Jesus Walks on the Water." The sermon tonight: "Searching for Jesus."

Ladies, don´t forget the rummage sale. It´s a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.

Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our community. Smile at someone who is hard to love. Say "Hell" to someone who doesn´t care much about you.

Don´t let worry kill you off - let the Church help.

Miss Charlene Mason sang, "I will not pass this way again," giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.

For those of you who have children and don´t know it, we have a nursery downstairs.

Next Thursday there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.

Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.

A bean supper will be held on Tuesday evening in the church hall. Music will follow.

At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What Is Hell?" Come early and listen to our choir practice.

Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones.

Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles, and other items to be recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.

Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased person you want remembered.

The church will host an evening of fine dining, super entertainment, and gracious hostility.

Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 p.m. - prayer and medication to follow.

The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon.

This evening at 7 p.m. there will be a hymn singing in the park across from the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.

Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10 a.m. All ladies are invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B.S. is done.

The pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the congregation would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast next Sunday.

Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 p.m. Please use the back door.

The eighth-graders will be presenting Shakespeare´s Hamlet in the Church basement Friday at 7 p.m. The congregation is invited to attend this tragedy.

Weight Watchers will meet at 7 p.m. at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use large double door at the side entrance.

The Associate Minister unveiled the church´s new campaign slogan last Sunday: "I upped my pledge - up yours.

Again on the subject of old-fashioned clotheslines, Pat Moore forwards this story by J. J. Mazzella:

THROUGH A WRINGER

When I was a little boy we used to have an old-fashioned wringer washing machine. This was an early type of washing machine in which you had to hand feed the freshly-washed clothes through a pair of moving rolling pins to squeeze the extra water out before drying. I often wondered how those clothes felt going through the rollers.

This curiosity was painfully ended one day when I was helping my Mom feed the clothes into them and got my own fingers caught instead. Needless to say, I was far more careful after that.

Usually after we finished washing the clothes, my Mom would hang them out on the clothes line to dry. I would hand her the wooden clothes pins as she hung them and help her fold the freshly-dried clothes a few hours later. I can still remember how wonderful they smelled after warming in the sunshine all afternoon. I would hold them up to my face and delight in their warmth, cleanness, and scent.

I know that sometimes it can feel as if life is putting us all though a wringer washer. The troubles and stresses of life always seem to want to squeeze and flatten every bit of peace and happiness out of us. Sometimes our whole day feels like my fingers did that time when I was a careless young boy. It is up to us, however, to not let ourselves stay flattened like an old, wet pair of pants. It is up to us to pick ourselves up and keep going and not let ourselves be flattened by life.

Marilyn Magid sends this example of

A SENIOR MOMENT

Several days ago as I left a meeting at our church, I desperately gave myself a personal TSA pat down. I was looking for my keys. They were not in my pockets. A quick search in the meeting room revealed nothing. Suddenly I realized that I must have left them in the car.

Frantically I headed for the parking lot. My wife, Diane, has scolded me many times for leaving the keys in the ignition. My theory is the ignition is the best place not to lose them; her theory is that the car will be stolen.

As I burst through the doors of the church, I came to a terrifying conclusion. Her theory was right: the parking lot was empty. I immediately called the police. I gave them my location, confessed that I had left my keys in the car, and that it had been stolen.

Then I made the most difficult call of all. "Honey," I stammered. (I always call her "honey" at times like this.) "I left my keys in the car, and it has been stolen."

There was a period of silence. I thought the call had been dropped, but then I heard Diane´s voice. "Ken," she barked, "I dropped you off!"

Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, "Well, come and get me."

Diane retorted, "I will, as soon as I convince this policeman I have not stolen your car!"

These are obviously men´s opinions:

TOP TEN REASONS WHY GOLF IS BETTER THAN SEX

10. A below-par performance is considered damn good.

9. You can stop in the middle and have a cheeseburger and a couple of beers.

8. It´s much easier to find the sweet spot.

7. Foursomes are encouraged.

6. You can still make money doing it as a senior.

5. Three times a day is possible.

4. Your partner doesn´t hire a lawyer if you play with someone else.

3. If you live in Florida, you can do it almost every day.

2. You don´t have to cuddle with your partner when you´re finished.

And the number one reason why golf is better than sex ...

1. When your equipment gets old you can replace it!

SUGGESTED WEBSITES

Anne Rahamut and many others have forwarded this link to a popular video of a German father who has been given an iPad for his birthday, and his daughter, who asks him how he likes it:

Bruce sends this link to a compilation of old clips celebrating the joys of dance:

Bruce also forwards this test for car buffs, who are asked to identify cars from the ´50s:

Catherine Green sends this link to a video of a group of Brazilians rescuing beached dolphins:

Catherine Nesbitt forwards the URL for an inspiring video of a son and his supportive father:

Gerrit deLeeuw suggests this video of two sons´ father´s emotional reunion with his old car:

Pat sends this link to a video of the rescue of a blind dog from a trash heap:

John Larson travels to Denmark´s Samso Island to report on its efforts to eliminate fossil fuel use. In 1998, Samso, population 4,000, devised a bold plan to completely switch to renewable energy. Today, the island is 100% carbon-neutral and produces more energy than it consumes:

Given the vast number of planets in the universe, many much older than Earth, why haven´t we yet seen obvious signs of alien life? The potential answers to this question are numerous and intriguing, alarming and hopeful. (Part of the series "Questions no one knows the answers to")

To check out the features of the "freedictionary", which changes daily, go to