Wednesday, 4 February 2015

OUT ON A LIMB

Hello again, and welcome to February's edition of The Autolycan.  We've shared some extraordinary headlines and news stories in this blog over the past couple of years or so, but this is one of the oddest yet.  Did you know you can now email trees?  Neither did I, but thanks to the Melbourne Herald Sun we do now.  It sort of took my fancy, and I hope it takes yours as well.  If so, and as usual, please feel free to pass it on to other lovers of the bizarre.

Mind, if you think this a bit weird, wait until you see March's edition.  There will be one, although probably a bit later in the month than usual.
_________________________________________________________________________


OUT ON A LIMB

Younger Readers may like to give up now. Go and do whatever it is Younger Readers do. You know, tweet something to somebody, post a selfie or two on Instagram (me looking puzzled while wondering what to post on Instagram), stuff like that. Or alternatively, seek out an Older Reader to explain who fotherington-tomas is. Should there not be one who is both within reach and reasonably sentient, let me explain that along with his schoolmates – nigel molesworth, grabber, peason and the rest - fotherington-tomas was a tiny pupil at st custard's prep school, and a significant part of my boyhood.

fotherington-tomas was 'uterly wet and a sissy.' He is the one who is 'a goody goody, who sa Hullo Clouds Hullo Sky and skip about like a girly.' You couldn't get away with that these days – as any fule kno - not without being counselled to within an inch or two of your life anyway, but we're talking 1954 here, and the Molesworth books were the last word in sophistication in children's literature in those days. Looking back now, I can see why it was at least as popular amongst adults as children in those straitened and austere times.

But hurrah! And thrice hurrah! There is now unalloyed good news for fotherington-tomas and all those of his ilk who love to commune with nature. Take a look at this from the Melbourne Herald Sun -

SOME might think they are barking mad, but sappy Melburnians have started emailing    trees.                                                                                                                                 
                                                                                                                                         
And sometimes they reply.                                                                                                                                                                                                                   
In what is believed to be a world first, Melbourne City Council says all of its 70,000 trees can be contacted.                                                                                                                     
                                                                          Melbourne Herald Sun                                    

The wonders of technology! OK, Melbourne's starting small with Trees, but Clouds and Sky can't be far behind, and now, when fotherington-tomas casually gets in touch with a tree on the other side of the planet – 'Hello Tree' – he will get a personal reply – 'Hello fotherington-tomas.' He can then strike up a conversation. This seemed so remarkable I couldn't help but give it a try. It turned out to be not as easy as I thought.

Locating a suitable tree from the website and clicking on its email address was the work of a moment. But it was then that the trouble started.

Me : Hello, erm......

Sorry, I seem to have fallen at the first hurdle. I do not know how to address a horse chestnut. Hang on, I'll try Debrett's Etiquette and Modern Manners. (A snip, incidentally, at £379.80 from Amazon. No expense spared when it comes to relationship-building with a horse chestnut!) No, sorry, no joy there, lots of stuff about what to say to a butler when handing over my hat and coat but not how to address a tree. Perhaps it'll be in the next edition, although heaven knows how much they'll bang the price up if they have to research stuff like that...

Horse chestnut : Dear Horse will be fine.

Me : OK. Dear Horse........

And then I sort of dried up. What do you say to a horse chestnut you've never met 10,500 miles away? For one thing, it'll be the middle of the night there. Will something pinging into Horse's inbox at 4am disturb his slumbers, disrupt his dreams (now now, no need to adopt that tone – of course they can. If they can send emails I'll bet good money they can dream.) Worse, what if 'him' ought to be 'her'? How do you tell with a horse chestnut? I wouldn’t want to irritate him or her on First Contact, stirring up antipathy amongst Horse and all his or her mates......

'Mornin' Horse, ya sleep good?'

'Jeez, no, some bloody Pom in me shell-like half the bleedin' night.'

'What'd he want?'

'No bloody idea, wouldn't say.'

So I stayed up specially late to make sure I emailed Horse at a decent time.

Me : Dear Horse

Hi! This is a great moment for me, my first real contact with a tree! I've had a great day working out what we might talk about, and building up to this moment. I feel marvellous. How about you?

Horse : Hi, mate. Not so good.

Me : Oh dear. Why's that?

Horse : It's not as easy as you might think being a bloody horse chestnut . So far this morning I've had to put up with being used as a wicket, kids throwing things into me branches – any guesses why? - and dogs weein' on me trunk. Not to mention 47 spam emails in me bleedin' inbox. What's Payment Protection Insurance? What do I want with a new bloody boiler?

I was deflated. This wasn't going to plan. I tried to compose a sympathetic email, something encouraging but not hectoring; supportive without being patronising. It was when I was hovering uncertainly over the send button that I started to question the wisdom of trying to console a malcontent horse chestnut half a world away. What did I know of Horse's hopes and dreams? How could I hope to understand arboreal psychology? Australian arboreal psychology at that. Was my well meaning intervention only going to make matters worse?

How quickly things that look fathomable can turn out to be anything but!  I was in an agony of indecision when my inbox pinged. Could it be? Horse! Was it Horse?!  I looked. It wasn't Horse.

'G'day,' it began 'you dunno me, but I'm a silver birch. You can call me Sylve. Look, Horse and me had a bit of a thing going, but I kinda dumped him. He's a bit spiky just now – you know? - but he's fine. Really he is. He's already got his eye on a cute little flowering cherry, pretty little thing, I really hope they get it together. He'll be right as rain, no worries.' There was a smiley face.

This was getting surreal. Trees were now confiding in me about their love lives. I was pruriently privy to their private peccadilloes. This was nature as I'd never known it before – if not exactly red in tooth and claw, then at least a bit pink in passion and desire.

'Hi Sylve,' I began, hoping to sound nonchalant ' thanks for that. Good to know that Horse'll be OK. What about you? How are you doing?'

If a ping can sound like a flirtatious giggle, I swear this one did. 'Follow me on Leafr', she replied, and I was soon clicking through to pictures of a very attractive silver birch. The best I could manage in return was a rather prim and proper family grouping which I sent as an email attachment. Not without embarrassment since it now appeared I was being out-teched by a silver birch, which takes a bit of living down when you've got a son who works for IBM.

We exchanged emails and pictures for a while, Sylve and I, but after a bit we started to drift apart. Did you ever meet a family on holiday and promise to stay in touch? Then you probably know what it's like. I suppose we never really had much in common in the first place. Probably I underestimated the commitment involved in forming meaningful relationships with copse and spinney. I sent a card at Christmas though (an e-card, since you ask, I'm not that daft) and got what looked like a rather hurried New Year card in return. She told me that Horse and Cherry were now an item, which cheered me immensely.

And that was that, until a few months later when, out of the blue, I got an email from Horse. He was puzzled and wanted to know what – if anything – I knew about someone called Fotherington-Thomas who had tried to connect with him. Horse clearly thought him a bit effete. This chap apparently 'loved the scents and sounds of nature.' 'Typical bloody Pom - sounds like a bit of a Sheila to me' he opined.

I couldn't email back fast enough.

Me : Did he start off with 'Hullo Tree'?

Horse : He sure did.

Me : Did he sound the sort who would keep dollies at home?

Horse : Yup. Said there were fairies at the bottom of his garden.

Me : It's definitely the same bloke. He was utterly wet and a sissy when I knew him.

Horse : Great!

Me : Great? Why?

Horse : I said I knew someone in England who corresponded with trees. Gave him your address. Told him you spoke to the clouds and the sky as well. Guess I might have made that bit up. Strewth, but he sounded real interested!

Me : What!! But.... that's just not on... I mean....look... I tried to help you....

Horse : Laughed me bloody conkers off!

Me : But......

Horse : Aw, c'mon mate, just a bit of a giggle! No hard feelings, eh?

I couldn't reply without sounding like I was the sort of chap who would get shirty with an upstart conker tree, so I said nothing. But if you're thinking of emailing Horse yourself, just go to http://melbourneurbanforestvisual.com.au/ Please tell him I'm an OK kinda bloke really. I'd hate him to think of me as a whingeing Pom.


ANAGRAM CORNER 

Some of the pictures of Jose Mourinho that appeared following Chelsea's surprise FA Cup defeat at the hands of Bradford City were priceless.  This one isn't bad....

                                                         JOSE MOURINHO


O, HE RUINS MOJO!

No comments:

Post a Comment