Minutes of the Nominal Committee for the Rainbow Communication Club
Jan. 26th, 2010
Secretary: Pherla Foolscap
The meeting was called to order by Alma Ironfist, Chairman of the Committee, and newly elected Mayor. Alma first thanked all 19 in attendance for showing up on this momentous occasion. She acknowledged that, it was difficult getting 20 members seeing that the population of Rainbow is only 42. She was pleased to report that currently there were 19 committed, with Anne Intrusion still undecided.
However, Alma pointed out, with only one member to be confirmed, our new club was almost ready to Charter, and that it was now imperative that a club name be chosen. First, though, she asked that James B. Mackay, DTM, who first suggested the forming of a club to Town Council, might say a few words.
James took the lectern, and, in his usual shambling manner, began by stating that, in the bible, it was given to man to name things. He went on to say that while self improvement, in a Hamlet, might seem, at first, inconceivable, it was the duty of the club to make that objective, not just believable, but, achievable. The name should reflect just that. At the same time the name must convey a certain dignity. He explained that he’d been involved in the founding of a club in Orillia, Ontario, the home of Stephen Leacock, and referred to, in his books, as ‘Mariposa’, or, the ‘Sunshine City.’
The new members, he continued, had wished to commemorate that literary notoriety in their new clubs name. Several combinations of ‘Mariposa’, and ‘Sunshine City’ had been submitted for consideration, and in the end, the committee had forwarded, ‘Sunshine City Speakers’, for final approval. James claimed that he’d only headed off that approval by asking each member of the Naming Committee, to imagine themselves being introduced as, “James Mackay from Sunshine City Speakers.” Now, he said, say that aloud, three times, quickly! The committee did, and the new name was quickly changed to, ‘Sunshine Speakers’. James concluded by suggesting ‘Rainbow Rhetoricians’ as our new club name.
Alma thanked James and asked for further proposals. First up was Midas Pyrites, (our local junk man, he claims to turn garbage into gold.) First he berated James on taking 18 months to form a club. “DTM?” he snorted derisively, ‘Dammed Talkin’ Machine’, might better be termed, “ATNA”, or, ‘All Talk, No Action”. He then explained that, if improvement in communication was our end goal, and our founding members mainly talked trash, then his suggestion for the club name was, “The Rubbish Raconteurs”. Over the booing, Alma thanked Midas, referring to him as our ‘Dean of Detritus’, and opened the floor to our next speaker, Angel Van Dykstra.
Angel, (We call her ‘Angel Cake’) is our local electrician, causing lots of sparks to fly locally, and founder of our, ‘Society of Sisters Who Choose Sensible Shoes’. Angel Cake is a tireless town promoter, as you can see for yourself by the Rainbow embroidered across the hip pocket of her taut jeans. She first suggested that, in order for the ladies to have opportunity to express themselves, that the club might be co-ed only on alternating meetings. As titles she suggested either, “Sisterly Soliloquists”, or, and here she smiled dreamily,"The Cunning Linguists". Alma thanked Angel, but reminded her that the club by-laws had been established, and, consequently, all meetings would remain co-ed. Next she gave the floor to Don Somniac.
“Dipsy”, as we call him is our town bacchanalian. He began by calling for a toast, and then, two more quick ones. Dipsy then explained that he had not joined to overcome slurred speech, but rather, to master it! Because of that he’d abandoned his first suggestion of, ‘Tell Tale Tipplers’, and, because he liked the idea of somewhere he could have a few ‘toasts’ and keep it quiet, he now favoured, “Advocates Anonymous”, but, if this put too sombre a tone to the title, or added too many ‘steps to success’, he would be more than satisfied with, “Rainbow Roisterers”. Alma thanked him, referring to him as our, ‘Blurred Visionary’, and welcomed our next speaker, Phineus Phoghorn.
Phineus, (or, ‘Toots’, as we know him, our, ‘Mothballed Minister’, and a charming man, with more than a whiff of brimstone about him, has been without work since we sold the church. His last sermon still brings a tear to my eye, “How can the Shepherd keep his flock in the fold, ...after the fold’s been sold?”), began by enthusing about how eagerly he anticipated his, once again, being able to hear his own voice in public. His contribution to the naming process was, ‘Clerical Keynoters’. Alma thanked him, referring to him as our, ‘Peerless Pastor’, (with, it seemed, emphasis on the ‘Past’), and introduced our next speaker, Carlotta Budz.
‘Lotta’, as we call her, is our entrepreneur, founder of the ‘Rainbow Horticultural Society, (at the corner of Main, and well out of sight!), and co-chair for the ‘Joint Action Committee for the Greening of our Community’. ‘Lotta said that she thought a communications club in Rainbow is a fine idea, her only concern is that, the last time the whole town got talking, she did three months! It cost her lock, stalks, and a barrel full of buds! The consequent set back in her ‘Delphinium’ quality cost her in the neighbourhood of $500 per pound. Pot ash, even when she produced as much as she could, every day, didn’t help! Still, she favoured the idea of the club, but would prefer it be called, “On the QT Toastmasters”. Alma thanked her, referring to ‘Lotta as ‘Rainbow’s sole source of growth’, as our entrepreneur nipped out to the smoking area. Next up was Harley Panhead.
Now Harley is our 1%’er, although, with a population of 42, it’s actually closer to 2.3%. A man more of action than words, Harley said he’d be brief. He went on to say that he’d joined to improve his communication skills for business reasons. “If you can’t pistol whip ‘em, join ‘em!,”, Harley said, “but, if you join ‘em, you’re eventually gonna’ have to talk to them.” While he respected all the suggested titles he’d heard so far, personally he’d prefer something that didn’t smack of timidity; something which would show our true colours! Perhaps, ‘Hell’s Advocates’, or even, ‘Satan’s Voice’. Alma thanked him, referring to him fondly as a real, ‘Civic Leader of the Pack’. She then asked if there were any further contributions. A hand went up. It was Anne Intrusion.
Anne, (one of our perpetually impecunious), alleged that she’d she was thinking of joining, because her lack of communication skills had held her a thrall to joblessness for over thirty years. Thirty years without a paycheque meant that the do’s and don’ts of dues were a done deal for her. However, if she could just get a handout over this hurdle, it would be a dunning deal! Besides, she added, whatever became of the concept of, ‘Free Speech’, in our community? If she could somehow join, she’d like to see the club called, “On the Cuff Conversationalists”. Alma thanked Anne, referring to her as our necessitous neighbour, when who should walk in, leaning on his hand carved ‘snake’ walking stick, but Sam Slanders.
Sam, (originally from Nottawasaga Township, Ontario. ‘Nottawasga’, is an old Huron Indian term meaning, ‘Mouth of the Snake’, and we call him, “Snake Mouth”), shuffled to the lectern and Alma graciously moved to one side for him. We hadn’t seen much of Sam for the last six months; he’d been bedridden, trying to recover from a bad case of ‘irony fatigue’. Sam is the editor of the, ‘Rainbow Review’, (now reduced, thanks to lack of funding/news, to a Post-it note!), and main contributing writer for our, ‘Advice to the Lovelorn’ column, “Ask Sam Slanders”. Sam cleared his throat and admitted that he’d no intention of joining a Toastmasters club. “Especially,” he insisted, his fist slamming the lectern, “not if they’re willing to have me!”
This hamlet has done just fine; he went on, for the last 40 years, without anyone talking to anyone else! And I can’t see that changing for the next 40! What this town needs is a good laugh! We laugh at the outside world. We laugh at our neighbours! But we never laugh at ourselves. We should call it the ‘Philogelos’ club, that’s Greek, means ‘Lovers of Laughter’! But the quality of a ‘Lover’ is diminished if he cannot love himself; likewise, the quality of a ‘Laugher’, is infecund if they can’t first laugh at themselves! This hamlet just can’t take a joke!
It was at this point that August Wade, (Our town ne’re do well, we call him, ‘Hip’, because of his knack for wading through Council ‘Bureaucratic Semantics’, (and, around here, it can be deep!), without any ever sticking to him), interceded, shouting, “Maybe Sam it’s time you learned to keep your tongue in check, rather than in cheek!” Mr. Slanders looked like he was going to have a fit! Alma tried to wrestle him away from the lectern. James Mackay jumped on stage and tried to quell what was rapidly becoming a riotous assembly! “Time”, he shouted, “to put it to a vote! All in favour of, ‘Rainbow Rhetoricians’, raise your hands!”
It was all for naught. Just then the Town Hall doors burst open, and in charged a red faced, Hector Bombast, (our former mayor). “Someone”, he shouted, “defaced the town sign!” Went over all the letters with a gold spray bomb, and painted a pot of gold beneath the ‘w’ in ‘Rainbow’. James was still on stage, looking bewildered! “I’ve heard of, ‘Silver Tongued Devils’,” he said, “but, Gold?” Hmmmm.... perhaps, “Rainbow Rhetoricians D’OR”?” he mused in disbelief.
A general uproar ensued. A vote never was held. Perhaps we, in Rainbow, should have unfurled a Fool’s Cap for our speakers. As secretary it is my responsibility to roll up the proceedings.
But, that’s the story of Rainbow. There was no pot of gold in the beginning. There will be no pot of gold in the end. And all that glittered in between? Mere Ironic Pyrites! As W.O. Mitchell said first, and best, “Roses are difficult here!”
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