The Tales We Keep Telling, 6: The Dead Dog In The Suitcase

This isn't my own tale, but it is brilliant and deserves repetition. Alas, I'm not Paper Jam Jack (not his real name), who tells it better than I, but I'll give this my best shot.

You know a story will go well when the teller starts with "This story doesn't go how you think it will go. Did I tell you about the dead dog?"

The consensus, expressed at the Circus Circus event somewhere around the third round, was no. PJJ took a draught of Wylam's finest, then continued.

"Ah, well I know someone who knows someone who was asked to house- and dog- sit for some family friends. The only thing was, the dog was quite old and ill to begin with, so they actually said before they left, 'We wo't be surprised if the dog dies'."

"That can't have made for a stress-free start."

"No. So she was dog-sitting, and anyway, after a few days, the dog died in its sleep, which was a shame. The couple had gone off halfway round the world and wouldn't be back for a while, so she thought she'd better call them and find out what they wanted.

"She called them, explained about the dog, and asked what they wanted doing with the body, since they wouldn't be back for nearly two weeks. They said they wanted it keeping, so she needed to ring the vet and ask if the vet could put it in the freezer."

"They couldn't home freeze it?"

"Would you eat ice-cream that had been near a frozen dead dog? The freezer wouldn't be cold enough. So she rang the vet, and the vet said yes, they could freeze it if she brought it over. The only trouble was, the vet was in another town, and she didn't have a car, so she had to get the dead dog to the vet by public transport.

"So she wrapped the dog up in a plastic bag, and realised that the only way to move it - it was quite a big dog - was to put it in an old suitcase and trundle it onto the train. Now this is where the story doesn't go how you think it will go...

"She got on the train, and it was packed, so she needed to get the suitcase - with the dead dog inside - onto the overhead luggage rack. She wasn't too tall, and the dog was quite heavy, so she had to struggle to get the suitcase up there. Suddenly, a young man came over and helped her shove the suitcase onto the rack, and they got it up there with no problems.

He asked her, "That was heavy - what was in it?"

She decided not to tell him the truth, but the only thing she could think of to say that was heavy enough was "Musical equipment".

"So she went and sat further down the train where there was a seat, and decided to catch up with her emails. After a while, she realised the train had stopped at a station, and she suddenly thought she ought to check if the suitcase was still there."

"And it wasn't?"

"The young man was running off with it down the platform."

We absorbed this in silence, then burst out laughing. The young man's face when he opened the suitcase and got out the "musical equipment" must have been one of the great faces of all time.

Never Seen A Man Juggle A Hat Before

Halfway through the week, I got a text from my friend D: "Our kid's band is playing at the Star and Shadow this Friday - spread the word". I spread the word, and duly found myself at the Star and Shadow yesterday evening in the company of friends, including D. The band was on as part of the Circus Circus night, which has just started (as of yesterday), so as we walked in we were greeted with three acrobats on hoops, trapeze and ropes.

The Star and Shadow, Newcastle's independent cinema, is an interesting venue for this sort of thing. On the one hand, the main space is a wee bit small for circus performers, and means that anyone on the far side of the room wanting a drink has to sneak across the performance space and pray that they don't get dragged in for a bit of audience participation. On the other hand, everyone can see what's going on, and the proximity to the audience does add that thrilling live performance sense that something might go wrong, as indeed it did at one point, where the lady twirling a hula hoop (very gracefully, it must be said) accidentally let go and knocked over someone's pint. The audience ranged from around 10 to around 70, and everyone seemed to be having a good night, including the Tyne Bank and Wylam Breweries, whose beers were shifting fast over the bar.

The night was one half circus cabaret, and the second half D's Brother's Band playing their take on jazz classics. The circus performers were great, including the aforementioned Lady of the Rainbow-Coloured Hula Hoop, a burlesque dancer, the compere, who had a nice line in juggling hats and machetes, and a contortonist whose party piece was to feed himself through two tennis rackets at once, whilst commenting "My name is Mr Freak, and I'm here to make the world a bit stranger!". (One of my friends commented it would be even more impressive if he'd fed the tennis rackets through himself. Like Werner Herzog and his shoe.)

Carnival of Crows were the final act. I originally knew them as Elaine Binney and the Jazz Rascals, and was there for their recording of "Live at Durant Hall" (Durant Hall being part of my church, the Newcastle Unitarian Church). I'm no music critic, so my best comment is that it was great to see them perform again; they're a great band to dance to. The rest of the evening was taken up with drinking Wylam Bohemian, trying to prevent loss of life and limb being caused by another friend's dancing (impressive, but when it happens at the Boiler Shop people nearby usually clear a space), and listening to the Tale of the Dead Dog in a Suitcase. Tune in next week for the recalling of that one...

Nearly There

Yesterday I had a brainwave at the Boiler Shop Steamer (as one does) that could lead to me finishing the Management Diploma in a month or so. I'm not sure if it was the goat's cheese pizza, the Wylam ale or the Nutella and banana pancake that inspired it, but I've taken Monday off work to explore it and see if it's got legs!

Hmm. I think I'll go visit the kitchen now...

Saga of the Wiring

One thing about owning a flat: I no longer wake up and wonder about what I should do today. I wonder about whether I should fix the thing that needs fixing around the house today, or ignore it and do something else (there is ALWAYS something that needs fixing around the house, this seems to be a law of houses that no-one told me about).

Today it was the turn of the electrician. The back garden has a light which doesn't work, making it the world's ugliest wall ornament. I asked the landlord of the upstairs flat's housemate who is an electrician and all-around DIY genius* to have a look at it.

He came round, fitted the new light, and pressed the switch. Nothing happened. He said "Hmm."

This is not a good sound to hear from an electrician. It's almost as bad as "You'd better sit down". I have actually heard this once before from an electrician, namely the firm I hired to check the electrics prior to me buying my flat. They rang me and began the conversation with "You'd better sit down". The last time I heard an electrician say this, it was to my parents, and the entire house needed rewiring - two weeks, £2000, and hoovering plaster dust for a month afterwards. I sat down.

Electrician: "You know how electrical systems are meant to have earthing?"

Me: "Yes, I understand that's quite important."

Electrician: "Well, that one doesn't."

£700 later, the wiring in my flat was earthed.

This situation proved less expensive, but more frustrating. Landlord's DIY Genius Housemate, hereafter referred to as G, poked and prodded the lightswitch for half an hour, whilst I went through the paperwork for when I had the electrics done. We eventually found that the lightswitch is connected to the light (good), but the neutral wire is disconnected (bad). I sincerely wish I could have a conversation with whoever did the wiring for my flat before I bought it, although I fear it might begin with "Tell me, did you train the monkeys before you let them loose with the screwdrivers?"

G had to leave to fix a floor in Wallsend, so we agreed he'd come back next week with some heavy-duty electrician's gear. As he said when he left, rather plaintively, "I did not think fixing a light would be quite this complicated."

Me neither, G.

* yes, this is the same fellow who was responsible for solving the World's Least Interesting DIY Saga, when I couldn't find the stopcock for the flat. Not only could I not find it, my friend's ex-plumber husband could not find it, my parents couldn't find it, the chap who came round to fix the central heating boiler couldn't find it. Eventually, G came round, traced the pipes through the house, and the stopcock was discovered under the false bottom of the cupboard in the living room. Natch.