231. Stationmaster!

Possibly the world's best gimmick! And all it costs is cat-food! A true and on-going story.

 STATIONMASTER! 

If you're a struggling city or an ailing corporation

And you are in a penniless and failing situation,

And you're looking for a way out and you don't know what to do,

And the puzzled Chief Executives just haven't got a clue

The Wakayama Railway is quite well-worth looking at,

The Wakayama Railway and the cat.

Now the the Kishigawa Line was losing money every day,

However hard they tried they simply couldn't make it pay.

The customers were very few, they much preferred to drive,

And the Kinokawa railway station seemed but half alive.

The Station-Master couldn't help but feel quite insecure.

He said 'I'm going to lose my job, for sure.'

One day a cleaner carried in a fluffy cat, a stray,

And little did they realise it was their lucky  day.

The tortoiseshell was friendly and so, very soon, installed,

And Tama was the name by which that little cat was called.

At night she slept with Toshiko in a nearby grocery store,

In a cosy little basket on the floor;

But, by day, she walked the platforms with an air of feline grace,

And she seemed to know the station was her very special place.

'She acts just like a Stationmaster!' somebody remarked,

For her manner of authority was very clearly marked.

So they made a little Stationmaster's cap to fit her head!

'She looks perfect now!' the railway people said.

Things would have ended there, but a little girl espied

The Stationmaster Cat when  she was going for a ride.

And the next day she invited all her friends to come and see

The cat at Kinokawa , which was cute as it could be.

And the cat was very friendly and came up to them and purred.

And that is how the miracle occurred.

The people flocked to Kinokawa, just to see the cat!

Train-loads came to see her! What do you think of that!

The railway trade increased by quite a large percentage plus!

The Kishigawa line had far more takers than the bus!

And Tama still paraded like a proper little pro,

In her cap she kept parading to and fro.

Now Tama is world-famous, well, at least in all Japan,

And everyone is keen to see her, if they find they can.

She's had stories written round her, she's been featured on TV,

There's lots of merchandising and some great publicity.

And all she has to do is be a normal sort of cat,

But one who's in Stationmaster's hat!

The coffers of the town have swelled and seem to keep on swelling,

And where it's going to end, well, there is simply just no telling!

They even have some carriages for giving special rides

And these carriages have little Tama painted on the sides!

So if you find your finances are falling rather flat,

Get ahead! It's easy! Get a cat!

230. Lost Limpopo

I always remember the Tuli area as being in Rhodesia, and this is how I describe it in this memoir. Now I read of it in association with Botswana! Maybe we crossed the river. Maybe we strayed into Botswana and nobody thought to mention it! I only know that my poem reflects a Rhodesian experience.


So different from the Zimbabwean experience of today! No doubt the game is still there. Let's hope so.

(The photograph is a modern travel-guide one but it strikes the right note.)


LOST LIMPOPO

The 'great, grey, green, greasy' river

Of Kipling's day

Is now infected with cholera!

The wild country I loved,

Which was once called Rhodesia,

Is infected with madness.

Turn back the clock!

Gwanda was a small gold-mining town.

I taught there,

Raw English from London!

The Whites (this was the 1950s)

Constituted a sort of enclave;

The Teachers,

The Hospital Staff

And the Police.

All White, of course.

The vastness of Africa stretched forever around us;

Weekends could be heavy with humidity

And soporific with boredom.

'Let's hunt the giraffe!'

One of the Policemen would say.

We would pile in the back of a Police Truck

And head South for the Limpopo River

And the Tuli Reserve.

No guns;

Just binoculars.

The giraffe had three legs

And was a local celebrity!

The Tuli Reserve was full of game;

Not  yet a Game Reserve.

No huts, no air-conditioning, no guided tours.

Just game, wild and free.

Permits?

What were permits?

The great memory is the Night Memory.

We chose to visit Tuli one night.

The Police Truck had a large spotlight on the front.

We made for the air-strip.

We parked.

We waited.

We turned-off the spotlight.

Gradually, the wild animals,

Which had fled at the sound of our arrival,

Returned.

Elephant, giraffe, wildebeest, zebra

Moved on to the airstrip to feed.
Scores of them, mingling.

We moved slowly.

We began to circle the air-strip;

The spotlight dazzled,

Lighting the whole area.

We drove faster and faster.

We chased those glorious animals

Round and round the air-strip

Until, finally, they all moved back into the bush.

The sight of those animals,

Lit unnaturally,

Their flanks moving rhythmically

As they ran,

Is with me still.

We were young and thoughtless.

Maybe we were cruel.

Who knows?

Now refugees swim the mighty river
Carrying cholera.

 We were so ALIVE!

Alive where there now is death.

229. Uncle's Upside-down!

More ABC WEDNESDAY nonsense for children! Letter 'U' of course.

(See my PLUS blog for my pictorial 'U' entry.)

UNCLE'S UPSIDE-DOWN!

Uncle's upside-down, I can see his toes!

Life is always lots of fun wherever uncle goes.

He'll suddenly fall over and I'll be underneath!

Run, run, run, run! He'll lose his false teeth!

Uncle's upside-down, underneath the ground!

His grubby face has disappeared! I can't see it around!.

He's grumbling and mumbling and all the people stare!

Run, run, run, run! He'll lose his underwear!

Uncle's upside-down, buried in the sand!

Why he's always doing it, you just don't understand!

To us it's not unusual,  for we're a funny bunch!

Run, run, run, run! He might lose his lunch!

228.From a Birthday Book.

These verses are based on an entry in a very old Birthday Book of mine. Presumably they apply to 1/365th of the human race, so I publish them for my daughter Rebecca and for all others born on her birthday.

This is a favourite photograph of mine.

FROM A BIRTHDAY BOOK!

'Moral courage is the hallmark of those born on this date.

Such people cope with steadfastness should setbacks be their fate.

They have tremendous patience in the face of adversity

They hang-on with determination saying 'What will be, will be'.'

Well, here's hoping not too many troubles ever come your way!

Here's wishing you the world on this your very special day.

227. Merely Players.

Stella was my friend Dorothy's younger sister and, at the time, of no account! (Sorry, Stella!) Now she writes to me on an equal (elderly) footing and she has come by the delicious surname 'Heritage' through marriage. The other day she sent me a copy of this long-forgotten photograph and she has stirred-up memories. Thank you Stella.

MERELY PLAYERS

So is it sixty years ago

 That we strutted on the stage

In another hemisphere and place,

 Another distant age?

The play was 'Idle Jack' I think;

 We were in the Village Hall.

And the fact that none of us could act

Didn't worry us at all!

We sang the hit songs of the day;

'Near You' I think was one.

And 'Anything You Can Do' comes to mind;

 Singing that was fun.

Here I am as Idle Jack,

 The Charlie Chaplin type;

I don't think the plot was up to much,

 Probably pure tripe!

Jean, on the left, was rather sweet;

 She became a Beauty Queen.

I've no idea where she went then;

 She just faded from my scene.

Dorothy, pleading on her knees,

 Had a family of seven

And now she's living out her days

 Idyllically in Devon.

Margaret, the wizard, looks quite dour

 But was really very pleasant.

She, too, lives in Australia,

 In Victoria, at present.

How did we see our futures then,

 When we were seventeen?

Are we all happy with our lot

 Thinking back to where we've been?

'Life is a stage' that's very true,

 And we are merely players.

Are we over-seen by Fate

As suggested by soothsayers?

Now that the play is nearly done

 And we're running out of time

Do you see your lives as opera,

 Or, like me, as pantomime?

P.S Yucky Ducks!

Isn't this too tacky for words! A very plastic Nativity!

YUCKY DUCKS!

Quack! Quack! Quack!

The last word in tack!

Geese

MAFFICK MONDAY
http://maffickmonday.blogspot.com/2011/07/maffick-monday-3.html
asks the question
'What if Birds Ruled the World?'

The more I learn about birds the more I realise that the insulting term 'bird-brain' is not deserved.

GEESE

Witness the Goose! It flaps its wings

And makes an upward draft.

The stronger birds are forward,

The weaker ones are aft.

And so the group flies strongly on

With energy and persistence,

Because the leaders know that they

Must lessen the resistance.

The moral is we fly the best

When we're helping one another.

As Simon and Garfunkle said....

'He ain't heavy, he's my brother.'