Home  >> Stories  >> The Tale Spinner #2012-43

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IN THIS ISSUE

• Jess Parksinson describes a visit to Charleston
• We get letters from Jean Sterling and Norma Patterson
• Catherine Green forwards a story of a great act of kindness
• Pat Moore sends a tale of weather forecasting
• Betty Audet shares some of Grandpa´s wisdom
• Here is a quiz for prospective professionals
• Sites are recommended by Bruce Galway, Catherine Nesbitt, Don Henderson, Doris Dignard, Gerrit deLeeuw, Kate Brookfield, and Nevil Horsfall

Liz Parkinson, who is Dixie Augusteijn´s daughter, explains how she and her husband, Chris, came to live part of their lives on a boat:

Chris had done a bit of sailing as a teenager with his dad, who had built a small boat which he sailed on a reservoir in England. I had the dubious pleasure of being on it once and getting hit on the head by the boom. Fast forward to 1999/2000, when we took a sailing course, which resulted in our joining a chartered sailboat in the British Virgin Islands with our instructor and other learners, followed by another two charters in the Grenadines, first with our instructor, then with friends. We enjoyed the sailing but realized that boat ownership was both foolish and expensive, especially in Canada, where the season is so limited.

Somehow that thinking got warped by a total 180 degrees in 2006 when we bought our boat, a 37-foot Prout catamaran in Key Largo, sold both our property and my Mum´s (on her behalf) after spending four years modernizing and improving them. We put a minimal amount of stuff into storage, in case the idea turned out to be a really really bad one. Then we set off on our first trip to the Bahamas, lost a piece of the rigging, and spent the following four years "on the hard" in Virginia, fixing and upgrading the boat. We finally set off south again in May of this year, with our 19-year-old grand-daughter, Jess, on board, fulfilling a promise we had made to her six years earlier.

We have been writing a blog about our adventures, and here is one entry written by Jess about visiting

CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA - by Jessica Parkinson

Charleston, city of ghosts, or at least it seems that way. There have been pirates and wars and fires, and the city is quite proud of its history. I went for a walk after my shower, and headed for one of the many attractions laid out on the tourist map, which was the aquarium. It was less than five minutes away, big and impressive looking, and boasting a large collection of aquatic animals, as an aquarium must. I was quite keen on going in and looking about, until I saw that the entrance fee was twenty-four dollars and change, which was about as much as I had in my pocket. I decided that was a little ridiculous and ran for a trolley instead.

In Charleston the trollies are free and the buses are not, so I took a trolley, intent on finding a horse- drawn tour of the historic city, which seemed nice. That being said, I had no idea where to find this horse-drawn tour, or where this trolley was going, so I sat back and enjoyed the ride. It was air conditioned, after all. The trolley had brass-plated poles with swirls like the ones you find on carousels; it was quite nice. When the trolley stopped, I asked the driver where I might find the horses and their tour and he directed me to take another trolley and get off at market square.

The trolley I required was not there, but the Charleston Historic Museum was, and I was just about to pop around that and see how much entrance cost when my trolley showed up, and I decided having a historic tour would be the more enjoyable way to learn about Charleston´s history. So I hopped onto the trolley and spent a quiet, mostly uneventful public transit ride to Market Street.

Market Street was cobbled and old looking, and right away I spotted a horse-drawn carriage like the one that I wanted to take. I decided it was in my best interest to follow it so I could find the place where they sold the tickets, and if by some accident I ended up walking most of the tour, then I wouldn´t have to pay the price of the ticket, and that was that. As it turned out, the carriage was near the end of the tour and I found the ticket booth fairly easily. However, the ticket booth was right next to the market square, which was a series of rectangular buildings dividing the road in two. That looked more interesting than a crowded carriage with a man yelling things over a microphone, so I went in there.

Apart from a few people weaving baskets and other things, it was just like any market you might find, with jewellery stalls, some places selling plastic whatsits and toys, and a few places selling jams and other jarred goods. Civil war toys and figures seemed to be pretty prevalent and I almost bought one, but I didn´t know for the life of me who wore the blue jackets and who wore the grey ones, so I didn´t get any.

After wandering through the market and being notably underwhelmed, I decided to go back out onto the street and go back to the carriage tours, but once again I got side-tracked by a shop in a small street called The Tea and Spice Exchange. However, once I reached it, I decided I probably had enough tea, and walked right past it. Past it was a shop I did go into called The Old Ghost Shop, or something like that. I went in and was confronted by pirate flags, a whole shelf of ghost stories, and a lot of incense, Celtic charms, fairies, and other supernatural stuff.

The man behind the counter was very nice, and we talked a lot about pirates, and how Blackbeard had barricaded the harbour with The Gentleman Pirate, and how much of a bastard Edward Low had been exactly. A small note: Blackbeard was Edward Teach, and Edward Low was another person entirely. They´re easy to confuse because both were named Edward and were pirates. Blackbeard, however, wasn´t a psychopathic madman; he was mostly just scary looking. I ended up buying Edward Low´s flag, as he was a childhood favourite of mine, commonly referred to as "that pirate who cut off some dude´s lips, boiled them, and made him eat them," which was all I knew about him when I was little.

After that I wandered through the French Quarter, which is also the Historic District, and found one of the oldest houses, cobblestones streets, and other interesting things with plaques stuck on them. Then I faced the challenge of finding my way back to the boat, which wasn´t that hard since I had a map. On the way back I noted some likely-looking restaurants and arrived at the boat, where I spent a little while reading as much as I could about pirates. I ended up finding a 40-page paper called "Pirational Choice: The economics of Infamous Pirate Practices," which is really quite good.

We went out for dinner that evening and past the pub I had seen earlier called Molly O´something or other, and walked a few more blocks so we could see what else there was. My legs kinda hurt after my afternoon wander, so I was a little put out afterwards when we decided to go to the pub I noticed earlier, which was the first restaurant we passed. The waitress there was nice and the food was good. Everyone had fish and chips, and we sat next to a poster which illustrated "The gentle art of making Guinness," which was amusing as they had all sorts of strange machines, and said they delivered the beer by dropping it out of hot-air balloons onto villages. It was a quiet night, except for the moment I forgot myself and belched very loudly. Luckily, the pub was close to empty and nobody really seemed to take offence (that, or they were so embarrassed that I dare do such a thing that they couldn´t call me on it).

CORRESPONDENCE

Jean and John Sterling and their grandchildren (click to enlarge)

Jean Sterling writes: Our three sons got together and rented a beach house for our 50th anniversary, and we all got together there last week. The weather was perfect, and the grand-kids had a great time playing in the ocean. On Saturday night they broke out some champagne and presented us with an engraved Apple iPad - which we are now learning to use. My favourite line was a son who said, "We are so glad that you met each other."

The iPad is an amazing little machine. It even takes pictures - we practiced by taking a picture of the dog. It has voice recognition, which is fantastic. You touch a little microphone and talk; then you touch it again and voila - your words magically appear on the screen.

A good time was had by all.

Norma Patterson writes: "Something to think about" in last week´s issue is so true ! It took a heart operation to make me realize it was very important to stop and smell the roses, and to back away from work, and enjoy coffee with a friend, or a visit from my kids!

Catherine Green forwards a story of

AN ACT OF GRACE

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued: I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled, comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.

Then he told the following story:

Shay and I walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they´ll let me play?" I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father, I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We´re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we´ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."

Shay struggled over to the team´s bench, and with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay´s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.

In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay´s team scored again.

Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn´t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay´s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman´s head, out of reach of all teammates.

Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!"

Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, "Run to second! Run to second!"

Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.

By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball. The smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.

He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher´s intentions so he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman´s head.

Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the way, Shay!"

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third!"

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and the spectators were on their feet screaming, "Shay, run home! Run home!"

Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.

"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world."

Shay didn´t make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and having his mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

Pat Moore forwards this story, which is a reversal of an old tale about

FORECASTING THE WEATHER

It was late fall and the Indians on a remote reservation in Mattawa asked their new chief if the coming winter was going to be cold or mild.

Since he was a chief in a modern society, he had never been taught the old secrets. When he looked at the sky, he couldn´t tell what the winter was going to be like.

Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he told his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold and that the members of the village should collect firewood to be prepared.

But being a practical leader, after several days, he got an idea. He went to the phone, called the Weather Network and asked, "Is the coming winter going to be cold?"

"It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold," the meteorologist at the weather service responded.

So the chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more firewood in order to be prepared.

A week later, he called the Weather Network again. "Does it still look like it is going to be a very cold winter?"

"Yes," the man at Weather Service again replied, "it´s going to be a very cold winter."

The chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect every scrap of firewood they could find.

Two weeks later, the chief called the Weather Network again. "Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?"

"Absolutely," the man replied. "It´s looking more and more like it is going to be one of the coldest winters we´ve ever seen."

"How can you be so sure?" the chief asked.

The weatherman replied, "Because the Indians are collecting all the firewood they can."

Betty Audet dedicates this to OWLS - Older Wiser Laughing Souls:

WISDOM FROM GRANDPA

Whether a man winds up with a nest egg or a goose egg depends a lot on the kind of chick he marries.

Trouble in marriage often starts when a man gets so busy earning his salt he forgets his sugar.

Too many couples marry for better or for worse, but not for good.

When a man marries a woman, they become one; the trouble starts when they try to decide which one.

If a man has enough horse sense to treat his wife like a thoroughbred, she´ll never turn into an old nag.

On anniversaries, the wise husband always forgets the past - but never the present.

A foolish husband says to his wife, "Honey, you stick to the washin´, ironin´, cookin´ and scrubbin´. No wife of mine´s gonna ´work´."

Many girls like to marry a military man - he can cook, sew, and make beds, is in good health, and already is used to taking orders.

Eventually you reach a point when you stop lying about your age and start bragging about it. [ED.: I´ve reached this point!]

Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me, I want people to know "why" I look this way. I´ve traveled a long way and some of the roads weren´t paved.

How old would you be if you didn´t know how old you are?

Old age is when former classmates are so grey and wrinkled and bald, they don´t recognize you.

WHAT KIND OF A PROFESSIONAL WOULD YOU MAKE?

The following short quiz consists of four questions and will tell you whether you are qualified to be a professional. The questions are NOT that difficult.

1. How do you put a giraffe into a refrigerator?

The correct answer is: Open the refrigerator, put in the giraffe and close the door. This question tests whether you tend to do simple things in an overly complicated way.

2. How do you put an elephant into a refrigerator?

Open the refrigerator, put in the elephant and close the refrigerator. Wrong answer!

Correct Answer: Open the refrigerator, take out the giraffe, put in the elephant and close the door. This tests your ability to think through the repercussions of your previous actions.

3. The Lion King is hosting an animal conference. All the animals attend except one. Which animal does not attend?Correct Answer: The elephant. The elephant is in the refrigerator. This tests your memory. OK, even if you did not answer the first three questions correctly, you still have one more chance to show your true abilities.

4. There is a river you must cross, but it is inhabited by crocodiles. How do you manage it?

Correct Answer: You swim across. All the crocodiles are attending the animal meeting. This tests whether you learn quickly from your mistakes.

According to Anderson Consulting Worldwide, around 90% of the professionals they tested got all questions wrong, but many preschoolers got several correct answers. Anderson Consulting says this conclusively disproves the theory that most professionals have the brains of a four-year-old.

SUGGESTED WEBSITES

Bruce Galway sends this link to a video of a couple who saved 15 dogs in 15 minutes:

Catherine Nesbitt forwards the URL for a video of a huge Doberman, Quincy, letting his little new Pomeranian friend Sadie feel like a big dog:

Don Henderson forwards this link to a woman phoning a radio station to complain about deer crossings on busy highways, and to ask that they be moved to lower-traffic areas:

Doris Dignard suggests this site for a magic trick with an amazing ending by Teller:

Gerrit deLeeuw can´t imagine how an advertising agency developed this presentation about Stockholm:

Kate Brookfield reminds you of her blog, which chronicles the story of a cruise to Australia and a visit to New Zealand, complete with many photos:

Nevil Horsfall suggests this site for stunning photos of "Earth From Above," the result of the aerial photographer Yann Arthus-Bertrand´s five-year airborne odyssey across six continents. It´s a spectacular presentation of large-scale photographs of astonishing natural landscapes. Every photograph tells a story about our changing planet:

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