Some listeners have expressed the opinion that perhaps my percentage share of the talky bits on the skeptacular In Vino Veritas Podcast is a little… low. They suggest that it’s some kind of injustice, that the lion’s share of hot air is blown not by myself, but by my esteemed colleague Dave The Happy Singer.
To these commentators I dedicate the parable of the Organ Grinder and his Monkey.
Every day, the Organ Grinder awakes. He attires himself, readies his kit for the business of the day, rouses the small capuchin monkey he keeps as a companion and heads out for the Town Square, lugging with him the large and cumbersome barrel-organ with which he is wont to ply his trade.
All day long the Organ Grinder cranks his instrument*, producing melodies for passers-by, who occasionally proffer a meagre few coins for the effort. The monkey, for his part, occasionally dances for the amusement of the public and receives fruit and nuts, which he devours with relish**.
Occasionally, the odd pair receive public approbation for their troubles, and are moved on, the Organ Grinder again lugging his ungainly apparatus to a new spot, where their interminable drudgery begins anew. Coin. Fruit. Grinding.
You dear reader, may imagine that in imparting this tale I attempt to portray myself, transparently, in the role of the Organ Grinder – the ostensible leader of this comical pair – and to cast my steadfast companion Dave The Happy Singer as the monkey, the prancing comic relief to my steady, rhythmic symphony.
You’d be wrong.
I’m the monkey. The monkey gets to sit around while some other nork is doing the heavy lifting. He gets a free ride and none of the blame when the operation is moved on. While Mr Organ Grinder is cranking his arms to the bone, Monkey is having a little dance. Human stooge gets a few coins for his trouble. Monkey gets delicious bananas. Monkey even gets to wake up later than Mr Organ Grinder, downtrodden putz that he is.
And, best of all, the fucker gets to do all this while wearing a fez.
The monkey has it good. Be the monkey.
* The title of an interesting series of Victorian daguerreotype erotica***
** Not relish. Relish.
*** A lie