Tuesday, December 14, 2010

In The Eyes of the Vice Squad

Mum loved to write little poems... one of her many talents. Here's one I'd like to share.  It's a funny one she had written in response to my brother, Mike's critique of a cute story she'd written about a gay old goblin!

In The Eyes of the Vice Squad

I was writing a tale the other day
- a sweet, an innocent one
At least that's what I thought it was
- until picked up by my son

"You're sending this... To the Church magazine!
- Mother, are you going mad!!
I'll have to go right through this
- you really are too bad.

"Very lucky for me I saw it
- just in the nick of time
If this stuff fell into the wrong hands
- I would probably have to resign!"

"What are you going on about?"
- I was quite unable to see...
"This highly inflammable story you've done
- full of homosexuality!

Now here, you can't have a Queen
- it will have to be a King!
You can't possibly have all the 'Fairies'
- and out goes the 'Fairy Ring'

What's this you've put!? 'Bent old man'!?
- a criminal! That's out!
Your "Gay" old goblin must go too
- that's what it's ALL about!

"Mother! "waving his big nobbly stick!"
- now that it out - but quick!
For that has sexual meaning
- you really are quite thick!

Now this bit here - oh no!
- leaping high on grass!
You've even pulled the drug scene in
- there's nothing I can pass."

So, here I am, left with my story
- what's left of it you see
A pixie - An elf - A toadstool
- and a very bewildered ME!

Monday, December 13, 2010

Jose Summers Scott - Story #307

Mum is never far from my mind.  As I come closer to Christmas I find she's even more often in my thoughts; Christmas hasn't been the same since we lost her. Mum's spirit was an amazing thing and there wasn't much that got in her way if she could possibly help it.

She suddenly found herself single again at the age of 60 and decided it was time to start traveling.  Her journeys to places as far flung as Rome, Rio, and Rangoon were an inspiration to me.  If I can do half the stuff she managed I'll be a happy woman.

I keep thinking about her stories... she had so many.  I promised myself once that I would write them down but sadly I haven't managed to gather many.  But here's a start.  It's a funny little tale that happened on an Alaskan cruise we took together the last time she visited us in 2003.

On the last evening, as were heading back into Vancouver, we were all instructed to make sure our suitcases were outside the cabin by midnight, so they would be ready to offload the next morning.

I woke up bright and early, went up to the top deck to meet Mum for breakfast so we could see the sights coming into port.  I started to get a little concerned after a while as she is normally up before me she was nowhere to be seen.  I strolled over to the elevators to see if I could see her.  As the doors opened, there’s my darling Mum surrounded by a group of very concerned people all looking down at her BARE FEET!  I will never forget the sight!

She’d been really diligent and had packed EVERYTHING - including all her shoes! She padded down to the restaurant and we chatted about what we should do. It’s all very well tripping about a cruise ship with bare feet, but the thought of heading through the cruise ship terminal was a real turn off. Half-way through breakfast a lovely lady we had not met during the trip came up to her and said, “Are you the lady with no shoes?” Apparently word had got around. She was so incredibly sweet and offered mum the spare pair of sandals she’d kept out of her suitcase. They were only a little on the large side, but good enough, so we took down her name and mailed them back to her in New York.


Thursday, December 9, 2010

OCD? Or just plain ol' ANAL?

Do I have a mild case of OCD? Or do I have a bad case of being anally retentive?

I often wonder what drives me to be picky over the silliest things.  Take for instance today when I picked up a paper clip to attach a card to an invoice.  The card was the BRIGHTEST of neon pink. The random paper clip I picked? It was red. And I couldn't possibly use it. It just wouldn't do.  It would clash... hurt my eyes... disturb my equilibrium.  So I put it back and used a blue one instead.  Why did it offend me so much?

It's a bit like my penchant for colour coded Excel spreadsheets.  It doesn't matter if they're for my own personal use and will probably never be seen by anyone else, but they have to be pleasing to the eye and perfect... with the spacing all even and the lines all neat.  And blue lines, not black. Crazy? Obsessive? Nah...I just like looking at nice things.

 But then there's the case of my regular every day black and white plates. I've had them for 10 years or so and whenever I stack them back in the cabinet I have to occasionally have to STOP myself from placing them alternately black, white, black, white.  It's not a glass door, so nobody can see them.  Sometimes I let it ride and leave them looking all neat and pretty.  But occasionally, just to prove to myself that I'm not completely nuts, I will be strong and pile them up haphazardly, willy-nilly, 2 black, 3 white, 1 black...