Money, Fish, and Satellites

Bank of England governor Mervyn King has admitted that Britain has plunged so far into “deep recession” that he is having to consider printing money in an effort to kick-start the economy. Say no more – I am ready and willing to help him out. With the new printer that I bought earlier this year, and my two older ones, I can churn out banknotes at an alarming rate. I would be looking for 24% commission, and let’s say 75% of a bonus, leaving the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street with a healthy 1%. That is the kind of waste that’s been condoned over the past few years, after all. Maybe a Knighthood thrown in as well, perhaps? The mind boggles.

 

Talking of waste, I’m reminded of a story related to me a few years ago by a retired fishing skipper. Back in the 1970s, when fish of all denominations and nationalities had the good sense to frequent Scottish waters, this skipper and his crew of four were shooting their nets when he heard one of the lads shouting that his false teeth had shot overboard as well. Being an eligible bachelor (all fishermen were millionaires at that time, or pretty close to it), his smile, as well as his money, meant a lot to him as a means of attracting a suitable mate. He was distraught, and not even a couple of tots of the good old Trawler Rum could revive his spirits. The skipper, being a man not averse to the odd practical joke, hit upon an excellent short term solution, or so he thought. He took aside another member of the crew, and asked him to follow his instructions, which were to insert his (the skipper’s) false teeth into the mouth of the first big cod that came on board, then tell the unhappy lad that they’d found his molars. This was done, the lad took them out of the cod’s mouth, and, without even washing them, popped them into his own cavity. He quickly removed them, shouted that they didn’t fit, and weren’t his, and promptly threw them overboard. The skipper, needless to say, was astounded, astonished, aghast – he omitted to tell me what form of speech he used to convey his feelings to the fellow. I laughed at the time, but I must admit that I sometimes have a vision of a huge cod staring malevolently at me, whilst sporting a bottom set of dentures.  

 

Yesterday, or today, depending on whichever time zone is use in space, a Russian satellite and an American one collided 400 miles above Siberia. Scientists say that it’s the first major incident involving satellites, but aren’t sure if one of them was overtaking, or if it was a head-on crash. Lack of space has been ruled out as a possible cause.