THE TALE SPINNER
Vol. XVI, No. 43
October 23, 2010
IN THIS ISSUE:Vol. XVI, No. 43
October 23, 2010
Zvonko Springer resumes his tale of their second safari
Mike Yeager pays tribute to John Lennon
Carol Shoemaker forwards some of the things learned from kids
Pat Moore sends the story of an explorer attacked by a polar bear
Bruce Galway forwards some signs that it is going to be a bad day
The editor writes about the effect of the HST on one small canteen
Sites are recommended by Betty Fehlhaber, Doris Dignard, Pat, and Zvonko
After leaving Nairobi, Zvonko Springer and family continued on their
SECOND AFRICAN SAFARI
We stopped to look down on Naivasha Lake before we turned into the Lake Hotel, where we had stayed a year before. After signing in we drove to the Aberdare Range. Formerly there were in this region a few large estates of white farmers; now Kenyans had many small farms with livestock scattered all over this vast range. As we neared the mountain range we had to climb a steep snaky earthen track through eucalyptus forests and tall bamboo woods. Soon after we came to the gate, and after paying the entry fees, we continued the climb up to the peak at over 10,00 feet.
We got to the lookout at Fort Jerusalem after some 10km driving on a twisting track cut into the mountainside. From there we had a marvellous view down onto the Nyandara Range and Naivasha Lake below.
We decided to push on over the Aberdare plateau despite the clouds gathered in the west warning of a coming rain. We passed a small lake and several meadows with many flowers in high grass, drove over small brooks and through dense forests, up and down the narrow path. Absolute stillness engulfed us at any brief stop except for birds' chirping or other animal sounds coming out of a dense green veil. About five km from Fort Jerusalem we came to a track leading towards the waterfalls Guru and Kagura. We had just arrived at a stopping place after driving down a steep track when the first raindrops fell.
Nonetheless we walked for some 10 minutes and jumped over rocks in a small stream good for trout fishing to get to a small gallery. From there we had a clear view of the 250m-high Kagura Waterfall some 500m away. A narrow path led over slippery rocks to another place and I had to risk it, despite Ljiljana’s warnings. There were no handrails on the upper platform but the view down the Guru Waterfall was absolutely a must. The two waterfalls cascade down, spraying water all over depending on the wind. This spray would certainly display the full rainbow colours if the sun were shining. I would have stayed longer and taken more photos had it not been for the rain. It was high time to return to the car because the track in "black cotton soil" (= loam) would become very slippery when wet. With the utmost care and in first gear I made it safely out of this quagmire. It was fortunate for us when it started to hail, making the ride easier and less slippery, so we made good speed to the main road, where the rain stopped.
During the slow descent we stopped several times just to view the landscape and to listen to the sounds of nature. We saw the mountain deer just for a brief moment, and several Colobus monkeys rushing through the branches. Rain started again so we drove on fast to reach Lake Naivasha, that bathed in the sunset below us. We met two cars going uphill and wished them good luck and success. A downpour hit us when we passed through the gate as we left the Aberdares. We were back at the Lake Hotel just in time for 5:00 o'clock tea. After that small snack Vesna went to check the cows that grazed nearby while Ljiljana took some rest that she particularly needed after her nervous state up there at the waterfalls.
The service had deteriorated in the Lake Hotel since our visit last year, but the food was still good. The hotel charges were the lowest we had on our safaris. This hotel was the only one in which we did not have a bathroom within our room; we had to share the bathroom with two other rooms’ guests. During my morning contemplation and making notes I heard some shooting coming closer to the hotel. I went out to the lake, wondering what kind of hunting went on in that birds’ sanctuary. It was a black day for the white-faced coots, which were not liked in the sanctuary because other kinds of birds moved away from where they nested. About ten hunters were shooting the coots at the north end of the lake controlled by a ranger.
When this racket stopped, Vesna and I hired a rowboat to visit Crescent Island. We did not see many birds except a few cormorants, herons, and pelicans, and a number of dead coots entangled in the reeds of water lilies. We found that we could walk dry-footed from the shore to the island. The lake water level rose up until 1964, when it started dropping again, and nobody knew the reason for these periodical changes but its depth never exceeded say 10m. There is a large shallow region more to the south of the lake where one could walk over from east to west shore and another smaller though much deeper one of about 25m where one could do the water skiing. It was not worth going there for 25km on a rather bad earthen track as I worried of a “strange crunching noise” getting from the front axle on our car.
On that afternoon we hired a motorboat with another family to explore the lake. The boat had two motors with propellers in a special casing that enabled it to cut through the weeds. Also, the driver would change the rotation direction to get off the intertwined roots. This was a rather clever assembly and the boat trip could be a pleasant adventure provided the weather did not get worse. It was rather cool out on the lake and a cold wind blew from the Aberdares.
There was nothing to see out there in the open of the lake so we turned back to the shallower regions dense with thick reeds and cane. The boat got stuck in mud just when something broad and brown-grey stood up out of the muddy waters. It was a hippo, moving quickly into the reeds to hide, yet its wide backside stuck out of the reeds with its dangling tail still visible. The boat driver moved out of the shallows and the hippo got out and sped amazingly fast into deeper waters, disappearing from our view. A few moments later as we toured around that island of reed and bamboo, another huge hippo appeared, but vanished in deep waters almost instantly. We had seen hippos coming out to graze next to the cows in the late hours of the day a few times. The return was not pleasant as it started to rain in the Aberdares, from where we could hear the rumble of thunder. Fortunately we returned to hotel dry and just in time for 5 o’clock tea.
After dinner Vesna went to see the cows grazing, as it had become her routine. Ljiljana and I sat on a trunk near the shore, listening to the quiet that surrounded us. We reminisced about the hard years that had preceded our move to Africa, while we enjoyed the gentleness of this place, its quiet and tranquility. Our small family moved to the Sudan by end of 1961 that became “The Gate to Freedom” for us. Now we move freely through the East African countries so the coming to Kenya in 1964 seemed like “The Gate to Golden Age” so far. We had to stop our meditation to return to the present reality as there was no place for any homesickness after all. Just feel the gentleness of this place, its quietness and tranquility of nature. Enjoy this gift to your life now.
Then we got up and called Vesna, as we needed a good rest before we proceeded to the unfamiliar sections of the safari in the morning.
To be continued.
The first set of pictures in a slideshow format: http://members.shaw.ca/vjjjsansum/ug4/ug4.html
The second set of pictures in a downloadable pdf file: http://members.shaw.ca/vjjjsansum/Across_Uganda_Pics07-2.pdf
On October 13th, Mike Yeager published this tribute in his blog at http://www.aretiredboomer.blogspot.com:
JOHN LENNON AND HIS FOUR-PIECE BAND
The other day would have been John Lennon's 70th birthday. I believe he would have been a cool old man. He loved life and from what I can tell, lived it to the fullest. Every generation has individuals who are deeply important to them as a whole and he was one of those for us baby-boomers. I can't think of any individuals more loved and accepted by a generation than the four-piece band John put together in Liverpool in the early '60s.
The moment, when I heard over the radio that John had been shot and killed is imprinted on my brain, just like when Kennedy was shot, Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, and two passenger planes crashed into the Twin Towers. Like all icons of any generation, to understand John's importance to boomers, you have to be part of the generation or talk to people who are. As I recently listened to older news reporters talk about his death and attempt to describe his importance to his "fans", it was apparent to me that they didn't really get it. Most young people today have a hard time understanding it as well. I can remember thinking, "What's the big deal about Frank Sinatra?" But my parents got it.
On February 7th, 1964, 77 days after President Kennedy was assassinated, the Beatles came to the US. The nation was depressed and needed a lift and the four lads did just that. They were on three consecutive Ed Sullivan shows and played a series of concerts. It was estimated that 45% of Americans watched those TV shows. The headlines read, "Beatles Conquer America", but it felt like more of an adoption. Somehow the Beatles belonged to us as much as they belonged to England. After all, they embraced our early rock & roll, rhythm and blues and country music, reflecting it all back to us in their own unique way. It was a mutual love affair from the very beginning. Two years and six months later they played their final live performance at Candlestick Park. The venues had gotten too big and the audiences were too loud. Another band may have performed exclusive high priced gigs for the wealthy, but John's band always belonged to the people.
In the winter of 1967 I was in basic training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. One of the few things I liked about the training was marching. Especially when the Drill Sergeants called cadence and we all sang in unison, echoing their creative and often crude poetic rhymes. Much of the marching, however, was done in silence, so I entertained myself by quietly singing my favorite songs. I thought at the time that "Rubber Soul" was the greatest rock & roll album ever produced. I had listened to it so many times by then, that during those long silent marches out to or back from the rifle range or another training area, I started at the beginning with the first song and worked my way through the entire album.
Not long ago I was at the mall browsing in a music store and came across the "Rubber Soul" CD. I noticed the songs weren't in the same order and there were songs from other albums interjected into the mix. I took it up to the counter where I thought the 15-year-old salesperson could straighten me out about this discrepancy. Or at least this young woman would be interested in my observations about the original album and the differences in this current version. To my chagrin she wasn't knowledgeable, fascinated, or the slight bit interested in my observations. It may have been a female thing because my wife and sister, with whom I was at the mall, weren't interested either.
In the summer of that same year after basic training, I was sent to Army Intelligence school in Baltimore, Maryland. One night while riding around the city with a friend, I heard "A Day in a Life" on the radio. As we used to say, "I was blown away." When we returned to the barracks, one of the guys had the Sergeant Pepper album. It became the musical background of the barracks for the rest of our time in training and no one ever complained. In a few weeks or months we would all be in Vietnam.
I recently re-watched "Imagine", the film created around video footage John had shot of his and Yoko's personal life. I again remembered his openness and honesty toward the public, especially in his songs. We didn't love him because he was perfect, but because he was real. He was one of us and we knew it because of the way he acted and from what he said. Aware of his own imperfections, he chose to use his celebrity as a spokesperson for peace. Listening to John's music and Beatles' music today, I'm struck by how positive the songs are. They reflect the growth, struggles, and aspirations of an entire generation.
Carol Shoemaker forwards this post, which is fun to read again:
THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM MY CHILDREN
Some of us have grandchildren this age and we can snicker if these things happen at home, not at our house.
* For those who already have children past this age, this is hilarious.
* For those who have children this age, this is not funny.
* For those who have children nearing this age, this is a warning.
* For those who have not yet had children, this is birth control.
1. A king size waterbed holds enough water to fill a 2000-sq.-ft. house four inches deep.
2. If you spray hair spray on dust bunnies and run over them with roller blades, they can ignite.
3. A three-year-old's voice is louder than 200 adults in a crowded restaurant.
4. If you hook a dog leash over a ceiling fan, the motor is not strong enough to rotate a 42-pound boy wearing Batman underwear and a Superman cape. It is strong enough, however, if tied to a paint can, to spread paint on all four walls of a 20-by-20-foot room.
5. You should not throw baseballs up in the air when the ceiling fan is on. When using the ceiling fan as a bat, you have to throw the ball up a few times before you get a hit. A ceiling fan can hit a baseball a long way.
6. The glass in windows (even doubled paned) doesn't stop a baseball hit by a ceiling fan.
7. When you hear the toilet flush and the words "Uh-oh", it's already too late.
8. Brake fluid mixed with Clorox makes smoke, and lots of it.
9. A six-year-old can start a fire with a flint rock even though a 36-year-old man says they can only do it in the movies. Also, a magnifying glass can start a fire even on an overcast day.
10. Certain LEGO'S will pass through the digestive tract of a four-year-old.
11. Play Dough and Microwave should never be used in the same sentence.
12. Super Glue is forever.
13. No matter how much Jell-O you put in a swimming pool you still can't walk on water.
14. Pool filters do not like Jell-O.
15. VCR's do not eject PB&J sandwiches even though TV commercials show they do.
16. Garbage bags do not make good parachutes.
17. Marbles in gas tanks make a lot of noise when driving.
18. You probably do not want to know what that odor is.
19. Always look in the oven before you turn it on. Plastic toys do not like ovens.
20. The fire department in Austin, TX has a five-minute response time.
21. The spin cycle on the washing machine does not make worms dizzy. It will however make cats dizzy.
22. Cats throw up twice their body weight when dizzy.
23. The mind of a six-year-old is wonderful.
And last but not least: From the first grade, a true story:
One day the first grade teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs to her class. She came to the part of the story where the first little pig was trying to accumulate the building materials for his home.
She read, "And so the pig went up to the man with the wheelbarrow full of straw and said, 'Pardon me, sir, but may I have some of that straw to build my house?'"
The teacher then asked the class, "And what do you think the man said?"
One little boy raised his hand and said, "I think he said, "Holy shit, a talking pig!"
The teacher was unable to talk for the next ten minutes.
Pat Moore forwards the story of the
EXPLORER WHO WOKE UP IN THE JAWS OF A POLAR BEAR
Sebastian Plur Nilssen was attacked as he slept in a tent on the Arctic archipelago of Svalbard.
Nilssen was travelling with his expedition partner, Ludvig Fjeld, as they attempted to become the first-ever team to paddle 1,250 miles around the island chain.
Despite protecting their tent with a trip-wire hooked to a early-warning flare, Nilssen woke face to face with the biggest land predator in the world. The 23-year-old was dragged screaming from the tent, with his head clamped in the animal's jaws.
The adult male bear flung the young explorer's body from side to side in an attempt to stun him, a technique typically used on its usual prey of seals. The polar bear's teeth pierced Nilssen's lung as it fought for a better grip and narrowly missed a main artery in his neck.
"It was so strong I could not fight. I grabbed for my shotgun and tried to shoot it but the polar bear had snapped the gun in half. It must have been only a minute I was in his jaws but it felt like forever. It was a big bear - at one point it stood up on its back legs with me in its mouth, I was 2.5 metres off the ground and it seemed very high."
As the bear made off with Nilssen, his 22-year-old expedition partner scrambled to find their other rifle. "I was about 20 or 25 metres from the bear and it had Sebastian in its mouth. I was very worried - I did not want to hit Sebastian as well," said Fjeld. "That would have been a really bad day for him. When I fired the first shot, the bear dropped him, but I had to fire four more to make sure it was dead."
Nilssen was airlifted from the scene, bleeding heavily, and was rushed into an emergency three-hour operation.
Despite his brush with death, Nilssen said he was not angry at the bear, speculating that it carried out its unusual attack on humans because it was hungry. "I must be one of the only people in the world who can say when people ask me about my scars, 'I got them in a fight with a polar bear,'" he said.
Polar bears are protected under strict conservation laws and can only be shot in self defence.
Bruce Galway forwards this:
YOU CAN TELL IT'S GOING TO BE A ROTTEN DAY WHEN ...
* You wake up face down on the pavement.
* You put your bra on backwards and it fits better.
* You call Suicide Prevention and they put you on hold.
* Your birthday cake collapses from the weight of the candles.
* You want to put on the clothes you wore home from the party and there aren't any.
* You turn on the news and they're showing emergency routes out of the city.
* Your twin sister forgot your birthday.
* Your car horn goes off accidentally and remains stuck as you follow a group of Hell's Angels on the freeway.
* Your boss tells you not to bother to take off your hat.
* The bird singing outside your window is a turkey vulture.
* You wake up and your braces are locked together.
* You walk to work and find your dress is stuck in the back of your pantyhose.
* You call your answering service and they tell you it's none of your business.
* Your blind date turns out to be your cousin.
* Your income tax cheque bounces.
* You put both contact lenses in the same eye.
* Your wife says, "Good morning, Bill," and your name is George.
- Author unknown ... but troubled
FROM THE EDITOR'S DESKTOP
There has been a lot of discussion about the implementation of the HST in both Ontario and BC, most of it acrimonious. It has prompted political action in BC, where every electoral district had at least 10% of eligible voters sign a petition against the HST. The petition had the requisite number of signatures, but the government elected to send it to the legislature - next fall. This stalling operation resulted in a movement to recall vulnerable government members, which is allowed under BC's laws.
Meanwhile, there have been a lot of letters in the papers extolling the virtues of the HST, saying it will be good for the economy. The argument is that by transferring taxes from businesses to the taxpayers it will make business more competitive and more profitable, and those businesses will in turn pass on their savings to their customers. And if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell....
In the home for veterans where I volunteer there is a canteen which sells snacks, coffee, cigarettes, and a small selection of clothing items and toiletries. For the three months prior to the imposition of the HST, the provincial sales tax on total sales of $29,000 amounted to $75 and the federal sales tax to $485, for a total of $560.
Since the HST was imposed, the tax on $26,000 amounted to $1005, almost double the combined federal and provincial taxes before.
Everything in the canteen except fresh fruit, milk, and bags of cookies is subject to the tax. Perhaps it is a coincidence that sales fell $3000 from one period to the next, or perhaps not. These extra taxes are being paid by veterans who served overseas in the wars in which Canada has been involved.
The canteen is run by volunteers for the convenience of the veterans and for purchasing items for their health, such as hospital beds and devices to help them stand; and for their entertainment, such as prizes for bingo and Christmas gifts. The society has also contributed to the purchase of buses to take the vets shopping and to lunches and other outings. In spite of its charitable nature, the society has to pay provincial and federal taxes, which are collected from the residents - because, I was told, it does not receive federal grants. That sounds like a double whammy to me.
So much for the argument that the HST is good for the economy! Prices have risen instead of falling, and if you happen to be a smoker, more than tobacco is going up in smoke.
SUGGESTED WEBSITES
Betty Fehlhaber sends this link which will tell you what was going on in the year you were born:
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You may also read this newsletter online at:
http://nw-seniors.org/stories.html
"Teaching a child not to step on a caterpillar is as valuable to the child as it is to the caterpillar." - Bradley Miller
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