It's no secret that I love stories and I love storytellers. And I know that most stories have just a wee touch of fancy in there. And a story without a touch of BS is like popcorn without a wee bit of salt: edible, but what's the point?
Is it lying? Yyyyes... but a little one... one that gives a little bit of life to the facts.
My favourite story with a touch of the incredible was told to me second-hand by a friend. It was originally told by a house-builder in County Donegal, Ireland, who also happened to be the town undertaker.
"There was this wee fella that hadn't paid me fer buryin' his pa," he said. "I waited, ya know? You need to give people a wee bit of slack during those times, but t'was months and months and he never paid. Finally, I goes over ta his place and says, 'You don't pay me by next week, up 'e comes,'" he said, with a jab upward with his thumb. "That's hows I said it, 'Up 'e comes." Jab, jab.
"Well then, the police calls me the next day to pick up a body they found by the river. Poor sod, white and clammy. I brings over the usual coffin fer those things... s'all dirt an' muck on the outside of it. So I load the body in, put it on my wee trailer, and I'm drivin' to the morgue and pass by that bloke's house who hadn't paid me, and I gets an idea..."
"I pull up to his house, get outta the car, and knocks on the door. And when the bloke answers, I points to the coffin in the trailer and says, 'I told ya. Ya don't pay, up 'e comes.' And ya know, he paid me right there, on the spot. Never saw a man turn so many shades o' colour at once! Ha ha!"
And was it true? Probably part of it. But it's a darn good story, with just the right amount of salt to make it tasty.
So, here's to a little bit of storytelling to make your day. Stories breathe life into me and keep my imagination fresh and active. And here are Rascal and me sitting on the Beachcomer Seniors Bench this weekend... just the right spot for us.