In New York we had dinner with J. and the Ambassador to Malawi, who has
returned from her adventures hale and hearty, and came to the meeting ready for
further guidance in the foreign policies of the poultriarchy. I did my best,
but second-hand information is always a bit dodgy. Maybe one day she’ll visit
and get the stuff from the source. Her sister works in an office where there’s
a young Royal, a “spare” I think is the technical term. I’m wondering whether
this is worth mentioning to the chickens
Did you know that whales began on land and abandoned it, thinking being big in
blue water was the better deal? Imagine yourself an elephant, the whale’s
relative, and going, “There are things with rather large teeth here, who may or
may not one day become chickens. Why gamble? Ocean seem kind of predator-free
to me. Worth a try.”
I’m really interested in early crossings. At about the time camel ancestors
were leaving the American continent, humans were moving in. What did one say
to the other in passing? I take my dog for walks each day and imagine myself
in that exact crossing spot. “Morning. Is this the best way to America?
We’re hoping to become First People.”
“What’s wrong with Mongolia?"
I’m also interested in first moments. Who was it I wonder who decided that the
best way to encourage students to behave was to have them write out, many
times, “I must not whittle willow when sense is our object”? The punishment
must pre-date cheap paper, so I imagine the idea was a kind of advertising
effect—if you write it on the board, the whole class learns.
Taking beer in hand and a newspaper as cover, I hie’d me outside. The chickens
soon gathered round. I like these early evening chats.
“Loverly light,” I began. “What... just out of curiosity…if you had a sense of
the imminence of death? Would it change the way you viewed the world?”
“We do,” Appenzeller pointed out. “We kill things all the time."
“Pile in and peck at the enemy’s eyes.”
“Yes,” I said, “I saw pretty much that this morning when I was walking Hamish.
A hawk was being attacked by a murder of crows and my money was on the crows.”
“Crows is as crows does,” said Mimo.
“But what I meant by my question,” I pushed on, “is what you would do if you
knew *you* were going to die within a specified amount of time.”
“Eat,” said Appenzeller.
“Build better defences,” said Pecorino.
“Dodgy things, crows,” said Mimo. “Hawks also.”
“Maybe I’m not phrasing the question correctly. What I mean is would the
knowledge of death’s imminence change the way you behave. You see some people
say…”
“More pizza,” said Appenzeller. “We’d have to have more pizza is death was
imminent.”
“Yes, yes,” said Pecorino. “Absolutely.”
“For myself,” I said, “I think I’d want more roller coasters.”
“The other god,” Mimo offered, “said she wanted to visit Africa. Rather hurt
our feelings. Aren’t we exotic enough? Maybe we should get in touch with our
ambassador. Learn a bit more about Africa.”
“Pick up a few tips."
I explained, “She’s a cat person.”
“The ambassador?”
“Maybe, but I was referring to the third god. The fourth too, actually. Two
cat people."
Pecorino was scornful, “Cats! Completely scared of us.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said, “but not so Cheetahs. Or lions. They’d have you for
breakfast…in Africa.”
“That,” said Appenzeller, after long reflection, “could be a policy problem.”
Mimo, “Can we wire Cheddar? She’ll know what to do. Having experienced the
continent first hand.”
“I’m afraid,” I said, “now that the ambassador’s home, I’ve rather lost touch
with Cheddar.”
“I expect,” said Pecorino, “she’s gone off to discover some falls.”
“On a camel,” Appenzeller embroidered.
Mimo, “If she’s not heard of for a while we’ll have to send someone after her.”
“I’ll see if Henry Morton Stanley’s available,” I suggested.
“Good man,” said Pecorino. “Welsh, you know.”
I nodded, “Fought at the battle of Shiloh.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same man?” Mimo asked. “The fellow who
found Livingstone?”
“Oh yes,” I said. “He was with the Rebels.”
“Maybe,” Pecorino suggested, “we could expand the pool of candidates?”
David Ritchie,
Portland, Oregon
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