No strings

In a re-enactment of the eternal battle between hoarders and tidiers a hoarder has the last word. This story comes from the experiences of the former 60's Christian rock group "The Pilgrims".

"What's this string?"
Johnny's tidy-everything mood stepped up to disdainful indignation as he held the second-hand bundle of string between fingertip and thumb, and glared at Don.
"This wires box is disgusting!"

Don looked hurt.
"I don't like to throw those sort of things away - you never know when they might come in handy."

"Bah!"
Johnny continued tidying the box while the rest of the band scurried around packing equipment ready for the night's gig. Three quarters of an hour later, bandwagon fully loaded, they set off on the 45-mile journey to the church hall where they were booked to play.

The hall was spacious, but the platform was basic. A solid but unattractive plank construction, it jutted out into the hall leaving a passageway on each side leading to the toilets. There was no power point on the stage, so how were they going to plug the amps in? Ian's methodical search found a socket under the gallery on the other side of the passageway to the Gents.
"This'll do", he announced, dragging the lead from the junction box, down the Spartan steps and across the gangway.

"You can't trail a lead across that passage", cautioned Johnny, "You'll trip people over."

"What else can we do? There's no other socket… What if we hitch it up so people can walk under it?"

"If only we had some string", mused Don.

© Derrick Phillips - 2001