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These "Tale Spinner" episodes are brought to you courtesy of one of our Canadian friends, Jean Sansum. You can thank her by eMail at


Don´t get caught in my web!

VOL. XXIII, NO. 33
August 19, 2017

IN THIS ISSUE

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In Heroic Stories, John Craggs of Hants, United Kingdom, writes about

TWO-WHEELED SAMARITANS

It was about 2:00 a.m. and the six-volt lighting on my old motorbike and sidecar was barely coping with the cold, wet darkness. Then I nearly beat into the back of a Mini car parked - unlit - under a flyover bridge. My first reaction was "Stupid idiot!" I was a 50,000-mile-a-year man back then (much of it at night) and I didn´t suffer fools gladly.

A hundred yards up the road I suddenly felt the need to go back and check on the car. The next turning point in the dual carriageway was about two miles ahead, so I turned and rode back the wrong way. (With no other traffic it was safe, if technically illegal.)

A family of four and camping gear were tightly packed into the Mini. The Dad climbed out into my headlight beam. Apparently they had hit a deep puddle which flooded their electrics and carburetor, and the battery was too tired to work the lights without the engine running. Just a poorish early 80´s family, returning from a holiday on a tight budget.

So there we were. A fairly self-sufficient biker with no car knowledge at all, but a sidecar full of tools. And a man who was undoubtedly a lovely Dad but admitted to being "totally useless with engines and stuff."

Situation impasse. Then along came another biker, who turned out to be an army engineer - with an absolute minimal tool kit on his own bike.

He asked the Dad a few questions, then fell on my collection of tools like a kid in a sweet shop. He seized my large can of WD-40 water repellent, and sorted out their car in fifteen minutes flat. Dad looked terrified as the engineering chap deftly dismantled, dried, and reassembled bits of the car which Dad had never seen before.

The engineer shrugged off thanks and roared off to avoid a late return to camp. Dad was going about 20 miles beyond my normal turnoff, but wasn´t too sure of his route. I offered to shepherd him part-way, and took him within about 10 miles, where I flagged him down to check if he now recognized the road. Off he went, children waving, and horn beeping. I finally got home about an hour before I needed to start work.

I call it the "Cosmic Exchange." I pay in when I can by helping others, and always, when I have problems beyond my own ability to solve, someone turns up to help.

This night was particularly memorable because the engineer said he wouldn´t have stopped if he hadn´t been curious about my motorbike and sidecar. From the outside lane and "really shifting," he probably would not have even seen the Mini tucked away under the bridge. And I didn´t know enough to be much help on my own.

Despite the lousy weather the Cosmic Exchange was firing on all cylinders that night, and six people felt better for it.

ED. NOTE: To comment on this story, or to get your own free subscription to Heroic Stories, click on

http://www.HeroicStories.org

Catherine Nesbitt forwards this story about

WALKING ON THE GRASS

The room was full of pregnant women with their husbands. The instructor said, "Ladies, remember - exercise is good for you.

"Walking is especially beneficial - it strengthens the pelvic muscles and it will make delivery that much easier. Just pace yourself, make plenty of stops, and try to stay on a soft surfaces, like a grass path.

"Gentlemen, remember - you´re in this together. It won´t hurt you to go walking with her. In fact, that shared experience would be good for you both."

The room suddenly became very quiet as the men absorbed this information.

After a few moments, a man, name unknown, at the back of the room, slowly raised his hand.

"Yes?" said the Instructor.

"I was just wondering if it would be all right if she carries a golf bag?"

Brings a tear to your eye, doesn´t it?

This level of sensitivity simply can´t be taught.

Carol Dilworth shares this project for a rainy day:

THE GEIST ERASURE POETRY CONTEST

Erasure poetry begins with an existing piece of text. Letters, words, and punctuation are removed - or erased. What is left behind is a new stand-alone poem.

The Erasure Text for the 2017 Geist Erasure Poetry Contest is an excerpt from "Wacoustaby" by John Richardson, one of the oldest Canadian novels.

How it works:

1. Copy the passage from "Wacousta," posted below, into your word processor. This is your Erasure Text.

2. Erase! The leftover words and letters will form your poem. Do this in any way you like and be creative. The remaining words should take on new shapes and meanings.

3. The ONLY RULE is do not change the order of words or letters. You can combine left-over words and letters however you see fit, just as long as they appear in the same order as in the original text.

4. Shape the text however you like. Or leave it as is. Add punctuation and capitalization if the spirit moves you.

5. Add a title: it does not have to be from the Erasure Text.

6. Print your entry and send it to us. There is no word limit.

For a great example of an erasure poem, see " Readme Doc " by Gregory Betts, published in Geist 77. And for more inspiration, read the First Prize winner of the 3rd Annual Erasure Poetry Contest, "Do You Recognize Me Without My Tomahawk?" by Karen Kachra. Visit our Erasure Poetry Contest tag for other past contest winners and great examples of erasure poetry.

Questions? Check out http://www.geist.com/contests/erasure/erasure-contest-faq/

PRIZES:
First Prize: $500
Second Prize:$250
Third Prize:$150

All winning entries will be published in Geist and on geist.com. More than one prize per category may be awarded.

DEADLINE: September 1, 2017

Entry Fee: $20 (Includes a one-year subscription to Geist, Canada's favourite literary magazine. International entrants will receive a digital subscription. All additional entries are $5.

You can enter online here: https://geist.submittable.com/submit

Or send your poem, with a cover letter (including name, mailing address, phone number, e-mail, title of entry, and how you learned about the contest) and the $20 entry fee to:

Geist Erasure Poetry Contest
Suite 210, 111 West Hastings Street
Vancouver, BC V6B 1H4

Entries received without the appropriate information and cover letter will not be accepted. Judging is blind - do not include your name on your entry.

Be sure to sign up for the Geist Newsletter to receive important updates and announcements regarding this and other contests.

Good luck and happy erasing!

The Erasure Text: From "Wacoustaby" by John Richardson, published in 1932:

Imagination and mystery generally work their way together; and as there was a shade of mystery attached to Sir Everard's very ignorance of the person of one whom he admired and esteemed from report alone, imagination was not slow to improve the opportunity, and to endow the object with characteristics, which perhaps a more intimate knowledge of the party might have led him to qualify. In this manner, in early youth, are the silken and willing fetters of the generous and the enthusiastic forged. We invest some object, whose praises, whispered secretly in the ear, have glided imperceptibly to the heart, with all the attributes supplied by our own vivid and readily according imaginations; and so accustomed do we become to linger on the picture, we adore the semblance with an ardour which the original often fails to excite. When, however, the high standard of our fancy's fair creation is attained, we worship as something sacred that which was to our hearts a source of pure and absorbing interest, hallowed by the very secrecy in which such interest was indulged. Even where it fails, so unwilling are we to lose sight of the illusion to which our thoughts have fondly clung, so loth to destroy the identity of the semblance with its original, that we throw a veil over that reason which is then so little in unison with our wishes, and forgive much in consideration of the very mystery which first gave a direction to our interest, and subsequently chained our preference. How is it to be lamented, that illusions so dear, and images so fanciful, should find their level with time; or that intercourse with the world, which should be the means rather of promoting than marring human happiness, should leave on the heart so little vestige of those impressions which characterize the fervency of youth; and which, dispassionately considered, constitute the only true felicity of riper life! It is then that man, in all the vigour and capacity of his intellectual nature, feels the sentiment of love upon him in all its ennobling force. It is then that his impetuous feelings, untinged by the romance which imposes its check upon the more youthful, like the wild flow of the mighty torrent, seeks a channel wherein they may empty themselves; and were he to follow the guidance of those feelings, of which in that riper life he seems ashamed as of a weakness unworthy his sex, in the warm and glowing bosom of Nature's divinity-WOMAN-would he pour forth the swollen tide of his affection; and acknowledge, in the fullness of his expanding heart, the vast bounty of Providence, who had bestowed on him so invaluable-so unspeakably invaluable, a blessing.-But no; in the pursuit of ambition, in the acquisition of wealth, in the thirst after power, and the craving after distinction, nay, nineteen times out of twenty, in the most frivolous occupations, the most unsatisfactory amusements, do the great mass of the maturer man sink those feelings; divested of which, we become mere plodders on the earth, mere creatures of materialism: nor is it until after age and infirmity have overtaken them, they look back with regret to that real and substantial, but unenjoyed happiness, which the occupied heart and the soul's communion alone can bestow. Then indeed, when too late, are they ready to acknowledge the futility of those pursuits, the inadequacy of those mere ephemeral pleasures, to which in the full meridian of their manhood they sacrificed, as a thing unworthy of their dignity, the mysterious charm of woman's influence and woman's beauty.

Zvonko Springer sends this thoughtful piece:

ENJOY EACH DAY

It seems just yesterday that I was young, just married, and embarking on my new life with my mate. Yet in a way, it seems like eons ago, and I wonder where all the years went. I know that I lived them all. I have glimpses of how it was back then, and of my hopes and dreams. But here it is ... the winter of my life, and it catches me by surprise. How did I get here so fast? Where did the years go, and where did my youth go?

I remember well seeing older people through the years and thinking that those older people were years away from me, and that winter was so far off that I could not fathom it or imagine fully what it would be like. But here it is. My friends are retired, grey, and they move slower. Some are in better and some worse shape than me, but I see the great change. Not like the ones that I remember who were young and vibrant, but like me, their age is beginning to show, and we are now those older folks that we used to see and never thought we´d be.

Each day now, I find that getting a shower is a real target for the day! And taking a nap is not a treat anymore - it´s mandatory, because if I don´t nap of my own free will, I just fall asleep where I sit! In this new season of my life I´m unprepared for all the aches and pains and the loss of strength and ability to go and do things that I wish I had done but never did! So don´t put things off too long. Do what you can do today, and say what you want your loved ones to remember. Life has been a gift to you, and the way you live your life is a gift to those who come after.

Yes, I have regrets. There are things I wish I hadn´t done ... things I should have done; but indeed, there are many things I´m happy to have done. It´s all in a lifetime. Although winter has come, and I´m not sure how long it will last, when it is over on this earth, a new adventure will begin.

Remember: It is health that is real wealth, and not pieces of gold and silver. Live happy in this year and in every year.

Here is the story of

A GENEROUS SON

One Sunday, when counting the money in the weekly offering, the Pastor of a small church found a pink envelope containing $1,000. It happened again the next week!

The following Sunday, he watched as the offering was collected and saw an elderly woman put the distinctive pink envelope on the plate. This went on for weeks until the pastor, overcome by curiosity, approached her.

"Ma´am, I couldn´t help but notice that you put $1,000 a week in the collection plate," he stated.

"Why yes," she replied, "every week my son sends me money and I give some of it to the church."

The pastor replied, "That´s wonderful. But $1,000 is a lot. Are you sure you can afford this? How much does he send you?"

The elderly woman answered, "$10,000 a week."

The pastor was amazed. "Your son is very successful! What does he do for a living?"

"He is a veterinarian," she answered.

"That´s an honourable profession, but I had no idea they made that much money," the pastor said. "Where does he practice?"

The woman answered proudly, "In Nevada. He has two cathouses - one in Las Vegas, and one in Reno."

Tom Telfer forwards these

GREAT LINES

I read that 4,153,237 people got married last year. Not to cause any trouble, but shouldn´t that be an even number?:

I find it ironic that the colors red, white, and blue stand for freedom until they are flashing behind you.

When wearing a bikini, women reveal 90% of their body ... men are so polite they only look at the covered parts.

Relationships are a lot like algebra. Have you ever looked at your X and wondered Y?

America is a country which produces citizens who will cross the ocean to fight for democracy but won´t cross the street to vote.

You know that tingly little feeling you get when you like someone? That´s your common sense leaving your body.

Did you know that dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they can train people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish?

My therapist says I have a preoccupation with vengeance. We´ll see about that.

I think my neighbour is stalking me as she´s been googling my name on her computer. I saw it through my telescope last night.

Money talks ... but all mine ever says is good-bye.

You´re not fat, you´re just easier to see.

If you think nobody cares whether you´re alive, try missing a couple of payments.

I always wondered what the job application is like at Hooters. Do they just give you a bra and say, "Here, fill this out?"

I cant understand why women are okay that JC Penny has an older womens´ clothing line named Sag Harbor.

My therapist said that my narcissism causes me to misread social situations. I´m pretty sure she was hitting on me.

My 60-year kindergarten reunion is coming up soon and Im worried about the 175 pounds I´ve gained since then.

Denny´s has a slogan, "If its your birthday, the meal is on us." If you´re in Denny´s and it´s your birthday, your life sucks!

The pharmacist asked me my birth date again today. I´m pretty sure she´s going to get me something.

I think it´s pretty cool how Chinese people made a language entirely out of tattoos.

Money can´t buy happiness, but it keeps the kids in touch!

Now, go have a nice day!

SUGGESTED SITES

Barbara Wear sends this link to a video of an unusual love affair in Oregon:

Barbara also forwards the URL for a video of Daniela de Santos playing "Ave Maria" on pan pipes:

Carol Hansen suggests this site for a video showing a unique home, built to green standards, whic puts a smile on the faces of residents in this artist enclave in California:

Tom Telfer shares this link to a video of a grandmother and her grandson singing a duet:

Tom also sends the URL for a video of elegant Italian space-saving furniture for small apartments:

Here is an easy way to help the food banks in BC this year by donating $1.00 with your restaurant meals:

In this TED talk, Peter Calthorpe discusses seven principles for designing better cities for the future:

Do you remember Wayne & Shuster? Here is an old show of theirs, part 1 of the burning of Rome:

"The person who considers himself too old to learn something has probably always been that way."

-Peter Rollo

You can also read current and past issues of these newsletters online at
http://members.shaw.ca/vjjsansum/
and at
http://www.nw-seniors.org/stories.html


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