As I was saying…
Since the new year began, I have made every effort to ignore the world around me, locally and nationally. I have attempted to just chill out and relax sitting by the fire catching up on reading my collection of last year’s Christmas gift books. It hasn’t been easy.
If I glance at my phone to check the weather, I find out that the polar vortex has caused dangerous cold (as if I hadn’t noticed). There are endless alerts to an egg-shortage due to bird flu; that the world’s largest iceberg is about to collide with an island in Britain and wipe out the penguins and seals; and that the doomsday clock is getting closer to twelve.
I’m reminded there are wars in the east or terrible wildfires in the west. It has been especially hard to avoid the shenanigans in Washington, D.C. It seems the usual circus has expanded down there. The clown car appears to have a new coat of bright red paint and brand-new tires ready to spin its wheels around the beltway and beyond.
Congress of course…well let us not talk about that anymore, although I have already heard one pundit suggest that a “monkey could do their job.”
Well, maybe one can. Meet Mr. Wide and Jack.
James Edwin Wide…a man…and his friend Jack…a monkey lived in South Africa in the 1800’s. Jack, to be precise, was a baboon (but let’s not quibble).
Mr. Wide was a signalman for the local railroad. When the trains announced their arrival at the station with a series of whistles, Mr. Wide’s job was to push and pull assorted levers changing the direction of the tracks, ensuring the train would arrive at the proper spot safely. It was a very important job.
One day at the market Mr. Wide spotted the baboon pulling an oxcart. Impressed, he purchased the monkey, named him Jack, and proceeded to train it to clean his house, wake him up in the morning, and wheel him to the train station in a small trolley. Did I mention Mr. Wide had no legs thanks to an accident on the job? This made Mr. Wide’s life much easier.
One day Jack failed to wake Mr. Wide. Being a very smart monkey, he arrived at the station alone and performed Mr. Wide’s job of pushing and pulling levers without incident. No one seemed to notice and after a few days of this Mr. Wide, discovering what Jack was up to, let him continue to guide the train safely into the station…until a passenger complained.
Investigators from the railroad company arrived to witness Jack’s amazing ability and decided to keep him on the job. Mr. Wide would continue to receive his pay as Jack’s “supervisor.” Jack would also get paid in beer plus 20 cents per week.
Yes, this is a true story! You can’t make this stuff up.
Jack continued to do his job for nearly 10 years without any mistakes (thankfully!) while Mr. Wide would pursue his hobby of taxidermy. (Maybe Jack noticed early on what Mr. Wide’s hobby was).
Jack passed away in 1890 of tuberculosis. His skull now resides in the Albany Museum in Grahamstown, South America.
Perhaps the clowns in Washington ought to take heed.
Mattapoisett resident Dick Morgado is an artist and happily retired writer. His newspaper columns appeared for many years in daily newspapers around Boston.
Thoughts on…
By Dick Morgado