Funny Anecdote

Photo by David Edelstein @jhopes

Happiness is wondering if you’re going to die laughing. 

For example:

While holidaying in Japan, like many tourists we discovered that the Japanese way of doing things is often unexpected.

During our visit, my husband Greg and I, seeking a view of Mt Fuji, took a, tour guide recommended, cable-car up a mountain opposite the famous landmark to, hopefully, catch a view of Fuji in all its grandeur.

Disappointingly, Mt Fuji was shrouded by cloud on this day. As we discovered later, that was not an unusual thing. Our long forest hike, however, was beautiful, though muddy, with interesting shrines, and a temple under construction in the traditional, exquisite, handmade Japanese style.

It was an obvious place for spirituality - nature whispered in soft tweets and intermittent breezes, rustling the leaves of mature deciduous trees and evergreens as they released fresh, sappy, aromas.

We made our way back down to the town, though relaxed and happy, we were not fully satiated, having missed out on our view of the famous mountain.

Back at the settlement, we cleaned the mud from our shoes. Somehow my shoes, cleaned up better than Greg’s. The husband then decided he wanted to try some ‘Mt Fuji cookies’. I don’t eat short bread, but as I was the more presentable of us, I ventured into the shop to purchase his touristy treat.

Finding it jam packed full of produce, I soon realised that I’d forgotten my reading glasses. Browsing the shelves, I quickly discovered that the cookies were obvious, wrapped in cellophane and sat upon a cake stand. And, much to my delight, on the next layer up, were some colourful macaroons. Typically Japanese in their design, the macaroons were precision-cut into circular scalloped shapes with incredibly glossy glazes. Even the crème fillings had perfect crisp edges. I was pleased that I could join my husband in his enjoyment of a sweet, European inspired, Japanese treat.

After selecting an individually wrapped cookie for Greg, I chose myself a bright yellow macaroon, possibly pineapple or lemon, either would be nice, my mouth watered at the thought.

Returning to my husband with my purchases, I passed him his shortbread and held up my macaroon with a smile, “I’ve got something for me too.”

To which he responded, “Huh!?”.

“I found macaroons on the cake stand”, I stated.

Again, “Huh?!”

I considered to myself, “He mustn’t realise, the Japanese obviously have their own take on macaroons.” I passed it to him, so that he could take a closer look. Whereby he proceeded to explain to his blind wife, Mrs Magoo, “This is a packet of Post-It notes.”

Birds

The five friends started out, Gary and Terry carrying the long, wooden rods over their shoulders. They passed over the friendy farmers house-shaded, dew dampened grounds to the musical accompaniment of a bird evidently very close.

Paulo watched Susan tilt her head, focusing her hearing on the varied flutes and trills of a song thrush, the complex melodies arriving in bursts from a nearby birch tree.

‘Morning Herald.’ Susan jolted, as if realising she’d said it out loud. Then she appeared nonchalant.

She stepped forward with a bounce in her stride to watch the speckle-breasted bird lifting his beak to sing.

‘Did you just say, Herald!’ jibed Paulo. ‘You did!’ he laughed. ‘Herald! Herald the song thrush! Crazy, mad biologist!’

Susan shoved Paulo’s arm. ‘You know your birds, Mr Aziz!’

‘I do know my bird’s, Dr Andres.’ Pretty woman. Fit…

Quirky but damn shapely. Needs the piss taking out of her, he thought. Paulo’s parents had kept their garden full of nature, and he’d absorbed it all somehow.

Making tracks along the south-western edge of the forest, the group passed trees reaching into the meadows. Susan pointed out elm and ash dotting the fields towards the river.

‘Still busy claiming territory,’ she said of the birds as their sweet sounds punctuated the quiet and stillness. Song accompanied by the occasional grunting and munching of horses.

Walking at a meandering pace down the hill, Susan smiled. ‘That sun’s nice.’

Paulo felt the sun gently warming his back. He looked down at the remnants of dew, dampening their legs. Proximity to such abundant nature was a fresh experience for the city dwellers and Susan would be enhancing it all for them.

Susan bounced on her heels as she walked past hedgerows and tree branches, spotting ‘passerine birds.’ The pretty little creatures hopping and flitting about their day, continually on the lookout for predators. Hopping and flitting like Susan, Paulo grinned.

One by one, the group passed through a gap in the hedgerows. Susan eyed some little brown-black speckled birds keeping a distance and keeping busy. One bird perched by some bright-red hawthorn berries cleaned its elegant, sword - like beak on a branch.

‘Hedge Sparrow.’

‘Hedge, check, Sparrow, check,’ Paulo said, watching Susan’s eyes absorbed in the surroundings.

Passing by a silver birch, Susan paused to watch some yellow and blue birds. The little creatures looked like masked bandits with their dark-blue eye-strips.

She focused on one of the tiny acrobats hanging upside down on the outer branches. It bit at a long dangling catkin. The sharp little beak of another bird grasped a limp caterpillar.

‘Blue Tit’s’

Paulo glanced down at Susan. ‘Tits… check.’

‘You’re a tit!’ she shoved him as he laughed.

Susan glanced ahead. ‘The others have made ground,’ she looked at him, ‘Let’s go.’

The pair made long strides, catching up with the others.

Slightly angling away from the forest, the group passed a beech tree, a pair of red squirrels deftly running along its branches. The mercurial creatures, their tails twitching, ducked behind the large trunk, out of sight of the humans.

The group arrived at the bottom of the sloping ground and stood above an elbow in the river that continued south-east on its winding course. Willow trees lined the banks. Tall grasses, reeds and rushes, grew at the edges. The group stared at the water, mesmerised by ‘The joyful shimmer.’

A blue bird with a rusty underside, took flight.

‘Common Kingfisher, look,’ pointed Susan.

It landed on a tree, the other side of the river.

The friends dried off and immediately organised fishing lines and flies.

Terry and Gary coached Paulo and Simone while Susan looked on, lounging on a rug resting on the dry, flat ground under a tree.

~~~

Gary demonstrated how to position the rod while holding the feather fly. He released it and skilfully lifted the rod back, whipping the line to cast it into the water. After reeling in. ‘Over to you Sim.’

Gary placed the rod in Simone’s hands with a smirk. He thinks I can’t do this, she thought. As their hands touched,nice, Simone felt a zing of connection. She blinked her eyes at him, couldn’t seem to help herself. Such a fine-looking, square jawed man.

Glancing at the rod in her hands, casting did not look easy.

Terry passed his rod to Paulo. ‘Like the man said.’

‘Firm grip, firm wrist,’ said Gary.

Rods in hand, Simone and Paulo glanced at one another and nodded. They lifted the rods back in unison, hooks following lines, flying through the air. Simone’s hit a tree, and her on-lookers viewed the hook and line gaining momentum, wrapping around and around the branch.

Paulo said, ‘Great.’ As he managed to hook the ground behind him.

Simone glanced back at Susan, lounging on the woollen rug laughing.

‘Hey, I’m giving it a go!’ She mockingly grit her teeth, only to turn back and see Terry and Gary laughing, shaking their heads.

The novices gave it another go. Paulo carefully positioning his hands on the rod just as Gary did, spreading his feet.Betting on self-belief, thought Simone.

Casting the rod back, Paulo’s line flicked out optimistically, yet dropped into a mess. ‘Argh!’ Paulo let out and passed the rod to Terry who nodded at Paulo, taking control.

‘Me too!’ Simone’s head drooped as she passed her rod back to Gary.

Paulo and Simone joined Susan on the rug where the three watched the teachers. They observed the elegance and deftness of Gary and Terry lifting the rods back left, causing the lines to apparently, calmly fly through the air in a relaxed sigmoid shape. Up and forward, the lines were thrown and successfully cast. The appreciative audience applauded.

~~~

Paulo lounged back on one arm and watched the wildlife.

Flapping its wings, the kingfisher hovered a few metres above the river. It pointed its scissor like beak downwards and dived, cutting through the water like a dart. The bird emerged, head lifted skyward, a fish in its beak. It flew up and landed back onto its willow branch, its prey wriggling. Briskly the kingfisher nodded left and right, whacking the fish on the branch, making it easier to swallow.

Paulo encouraged the fishing lines, ‘Come on, our turn.’

Ghostly white, even the wading egret across the river stabbed its beak into the water and retrieved a fish.

Fireworks!

Fireworks!

Feeling the squeeze of her tight, lacy white bodice, she looks down upon her full, spreading skirt. She says to herself, “I feel like a ridiculous Disney princess.” Focusing on the peach rose bouquet in her hands, remembering her mothers’ words when, like her dress, mum also chose them for her, “Peach will go so well with your beautiful olive complexion darling.” Catching sight of her pale skinned brides’ maids, clad in peach, she wonders.

Standing next to his best friend, so dependable, there as his best man. Wearing a perfectly fitted suit, and with his hair coifed into a new cut, he feels sharp, “She’ll be impressed”, he thinks.

During her walk along the garden path, a bright green, blue skyed, hazy blur washes over her. The gazes from such familiar faces, almost looking like strangers with their atypical clothing. His ardent stare, “Is that admiration or shock. What is that look?”, she questions.

The pavilion, decorated with flowers, full of friends and family gazing their way, is almost spinning, her head is foggy, she didn’t sleep well last night, but everyone is staring.

Words are spoken, and responded to, familiar words, questions answered. That part over, time to move to seats, to sign. People murmur in the background, “I hope they don’t get bored”, she thinks.

Such a bright day, full of promise, of hope, of future. Handshakes, complements. She feels, “I really look OK, very beautiful even, they sound convincing.”

Everyone smiling, laughing, uplifted, uplifting them. They hold hands, walking to the backdrop of trees they’d agreed to. Grouped together, posed. Then, posed again. Grouped together again, posed some more.

Just them now. How shall we stand? Let’s try this. “Hope a least one comes out well”, she muses.

Glancing towards the pavilion, guests are eating and managing glasses of Champagne. “I just want to be with them, join in, and connect as one of them”, she wishes.

Returning to stand at the front of the pavilion, everyone staring their way again, people are making speeches. People are laughing. She reflects, “This is going on a bit too long now”, her legs feel enervated.

“The limousine’s here”, someone calls out. “Already”, she considers, “Where did the day go.”

Suddenly they are in the hotel room, remembering the drive, and checking in as Mr and Mrs. Laughing, embracing. Embracing some more. There is an explosion. It came from outside, and another.

Arriving at the window, they exchange a smile. He draws the curtains open across the huge windows.

Complimentary wine’s in hand, they sit and gaze out at the colourful explosions. Surprise bursts in the yellow-glowing, smoky, black sky. Singles, clusters, silver, like fountains, green, red, yellow, like flowers. “Perhaps dahlias”, she ponders. What next? “Oh that’s amazing!”, she exclaims. He grins, taking in his beautiful bride like a prize.

Lost in the huge bed, eye’s open, it’s morning. Looking up, his face appears. “Enjoy the fireworks last night darling?”, he questions. “There were fireworks!”, she exclaims. “Absolutely, you used the word amazing if I’m not mistaken”, as he glides the back of his fingers over her face, he adds, “All in this room of course.” Smiling, “Of course,” she jokes.

Entangled Particles

Gentle wisps of chemical odours diffuse through a well-lit room. Where every atom making up the air of the laboratory is somehow energised beyond the norm. Certainly, to the scientists, pumped with adrenaline, every cell of their bodies feels uplifted. Confident of their discovery, they are at the precipice of completing their life’s work, about to take the final plunge, a dive into new technology, the pursuit of which many might call a waste time and resources, unachievable, yet the scientists in this laboratory have vision, they can see a new world opening up before them.

Standing over the large table, every inch of it supporting their complex, shining, metallic apparatus, firing their laser beam through the crystal, Ned and Vik continue to create entangled particles, transporting the elements straight into their own painstakingly designed and researched glass spheres. Trusting that their, yet to be patented, mechanism for sealing these vessels remains top-secret.  

Remembering their monumental efforts of the preceding years, holding onto their faith, minds remaining balanced and focused, lips remaining closed, heads down, step by step, today they know they are about to arrive.

Glancing up at his co-worker, amongst Vik’s chaotic hair and bushy beard, his eyes are as bright as the laser beam itself. Lean and driven, Ned responds with a large grin, confident that their recalibration is on the money, their next test round will demonstrate that their technology is ready for wider application. A portion of the world will finally see what they have been building on for so many years. The faith and the trust which such high-level superiors have placed in them will at last be proven wise.

Grasping a sealed sphere between his hands, Vik takes measured steps toward the table containing his computer and specially developed sphere mount. Carefully, he allows the glass ball to gently roll into place. A satisfying knock is felt as it nestles into the mount. Immediately Vik enters code, charts arrives on his screen, he continues to type.

Poised across the room, with the complimentary sphere also now in place, Ned begins tapping his keyboard and text instantly populates his monitor.

Ned unconsciously holds his breath while typing. Immediately a response arrives on Vik’s screen. “Eureka!”, exclaims Vik, lifting himself high.

Leaping, Ned rushes over to his co-worker and they embrace and jump and tremble and laugh, almost maniacally, yet they are so very happy to have completed their risky dive, with resounding success.