2582. A very important man

David was a very important man. There was even a street named after him. His name was forever appearing here and there extolling his achievements. But today for him was quite an ordinary day. He had been standing on his front lawn looking at nothing in particular when a car pulled up at the roadside curb. A middle-aged man got out and checked both sides of the car. He had a puncture.

David stopped staring at nothing in particular and went over to the car.

“Would you like a hand?” David asked.

“You’ve no idea how I would appreciate help,” said the man.

The tire was changed in no time. “Thanks,” said the man. “Look, we don’t usually do this but I’m immensely grateful. I’m a certain type of wizard (people think we’re all the same) and if you would like it I will let you live in the future for twenty-four hours. What say you have a peek at a hundred years from now?”

David was keen. The man drove off and David was transported into the future. He was still in the same city. Some of the buildings were familiar. David went to the library. He went to the city records department. He went to the museum. He went to the family history society. He went everywhere he could during those gifted twenty-four hours. The street named after him seemed to have been replaced by an office tower.

He could find not a skerrick of a reference to himself. It was as if he had never existed. Ain’t that the case for most of us?

1811. The stamp of fame

Lois tried to post on her blog daily. Her postings were open to comments and likes. In fact, she felt quite thrilled when someone commented or gave her a like. It was as if putting time into creating a post was worthwhile, particularly if the comment said that her posting had been helpful.

Then one day someone posted a comment that was a bit rude: Why don’t you write about something interesting, you weasel?

Lois was a bit upset about it, but not too much. She continued to write and post. The comments got more vehement. Why don’t you write about something we can all understand? You’ve got your head in the clouds thinking that people are interested in such rubbish. I wish you’d stop annoying the hell out of people like me.

Lois could have deleted the comment but she left it on her blog, although she didn’t respond to it. She wondered why the commenter bothered to even read her blog. However, someone else came to her defence.

Professor Lois Stinghammer is the world’s leading expert in Neurocardio Conversigence. She blogs daily to help those of us who suffer from such a disease. We understand better what is happening to us and what we must do to help alleviate our condition. Thank you, Doctor Lois for your time and kindness, and a pox on Jello-in-the-kitchen for their rude and inconsiderate reaction.

Of course Neurocardio Conversigence wasn’t a disease that existed, and nor was Lois a doctor, but it wasn’t long before both got their own page on Wikipedia.

1372. Famous cat

You are such a lucky cat! said Leopold to his cat, Heidi.

Heidi was sitting on Leopold’s lap while Leopold typed.

You, said Leopold, will become a famous cat! You will be known all over the world as the cat that sat on my lap while I typed out my poetic masterpieces. You will be mentioned in every biography of me, and perhaps, if you’re lucky, there’ll be a photo. In fact, I shall take a photograph now of you on my lap. There! Perhaps such a photo might even grace the cover of my volume of poetry.

With a great deal of breathless anticipation, Leopold sent his collection of poems to a publisher. Perhaps, suggested Leopold, the cover could include a picture of my cat? The poems were rejected. Who buys poetry books these days, asked the publisher?

And then the cat got stuck up a tree and had to be rescued by the fire brigade. They hoisted a great big ladder in front of a huge assembled crowd. The press was there. Heidi’s photo was splashed all over the front page. It didn’t even say who the cat belonged to.

Selfish feline.

1359. Life’s aim

He was bright as a button; as sharp as a pin; as keen as a knife!

The teacher asked the class what was their greatest aim in life.

“Me! Me! Ask me first! I want to become so famous that people will use my name as a swear word. Like Jesus Christ.”

“That’s an unusual idea,” said the teacher. “What made you think of that, Shita Brick?”