OPENER / ANDREW TUCK
Commit to memory
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A few columns ago, I mentioned the trend for giving dogs human names – I heard of a Dennis just this week. The dangers of this movement became clear last Saturday when I bumped into a friend walking her often-grumpy dog in the park with her neighbour. I mentioned to her that it was good to see Rufus behaving so well and clearly in a good mood for once. The neighbour jumped in with, “Yes, Brian is very happy today.” Clouds parted: Rufus is the son who works in banking; Brian is the dog. This is a friend I often see when we are both with our hounds and, looking back, I think I flipped the two names in my mind many months ago but my confusion had just been patiently ignored. Thankfully, I didn’t ask if I could give Rufus a stroke.
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But I have form on this. We have a nice DIY man who fixes things in the house. He is called Elder but the name wouldn’t stick so I used to think of him as Pliny the Elder to aid my recall. How the name of a Roman philosopher was supposed to help I am not sure but it did at first. Of course, I then suddenly started calling him Pliny – as in Pliny the painter. He looked bemused and after that I avoided any mention of his name for some months.
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Tom, our head of radio, shows us his young son’s Christmas wishlist, which includes the modest (cake) and the far more ambitious (snow leopard). Tom has suggested that a snow leopard might need quite a lot of attention but his son is confident that it can live in his bedroom. But who else would have such wonderful present demands – an oil-rich potentate? If Tom did give way and get the snow leopard, it would certainly trump all the Monocle dogs. Although it might snack on them too.
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The cultural challenges of moving to another country are well documented. Well, perhaps not this one. A friend has just moved back from New York to London with his girlfriend. Over drinks he mentions that he has a problem with his ankle and I presume that this is a consequence of his determined running habit. Not so: it turns out that for the first time in their lives they are living in a house, not an apartment, and one that has a lot of stairs. Both of them have been taking numerous tumbles, on one occasion surfing all the way down to the basement after a bad trip. Hence the hobble.
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I have just lost my wallet twice in a matter of weeks. The first time it arrived back at Monocle in an envelope with no note and all intact. The second time I left it in an Uber. The driver brought it back and refused to take any money by way of thanks. People, it turns out, are very good. But the social experiment needs to end there. Otherwise there will be no Christmas gifts under the tree.
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And finally. Well, the most important bit. Happy Christmas from everyone at Monocle. What a year – but here’s hoping that you have a fun time, some rest and time to recharge.