LIZ BITAKARAMIRE: The Monkey Town Trail 2017 (Part Two)

For those of you interested in the Heywood Monkey Town Parade, there is still just over a month to pay a visit to our collection of gorillas. Here is a helpful map, courtesy of events organisers and disability charity PossAbilities:

THE MONKEY TOWN PARADE by Liz Bitakaramire

Some of you may remember my previous blog post back in 2009 about the origins of Heywood's unofficial moniker of 'Monkey Town.' Well, last weekend, your Greater-Mancunian correspondent is happy to report, monkey business hit an all-time high with the first annual Monkey Town Parade.

In the week before the festivities, nine life-size gorilla statues were installed at various locations around the town.

Helen Johnson, of the Heywood Advertiser, reports that 'Hundreds of people' turned out for the inaugural event on Saturday, 6th May, which included a three-mile trail to visit all nine gorillas to make rubbings of their brass plaques - please, no jokes about monkeys and brass; it was actually quite a warm day.

There is a also a competition running until the 25th August where those who collected all nine brass-rubbings can win one of the gorillas.

Each sculpture was designed by local primary school children; members of the Heywood in Bloom organisation; PossAbilities, a disability charity; and created by artists. PossAbilities, who organised the event, also held a garden party at their premises, with 500 attendees.

If you're in or around Heywood you can hunt for the apes until 25th August when they will be removed from their current locations and brought together for a 'gathering of the apes.'

LIZ CLANCY: Heywood Headlines

Just to prove that even a remarkable story can be exaggerated, on my way to work last week I noticed that part of the town had been cordened off and was being guarded by the police. The taxi driver informed me that there had been an explosion. At work and after lunch one of my colleagues came in to tell us she had been over to find out the full story; there had indeed been an explosion at Bar Vino (officially renamed Miami Ice a while ago but locals take little notice of such things; The Old Fashioned will ever be to us The Queen Anne).

Of interest to us here is the fate of the rabbit who lived in the flat above the bar. Apparently, though the whole building burnt down, firefighters found the fluffy-eared fellow among the wreckage and rubble after they had put the fire out, and he was completely unharmed. Not so.

Waffles, as The Heywood Advertiser reported this morning, was indeed left with hardly a scratch on him but rather than miraculously emerging from the ashes like the Heywood Phoenix (buy our beer; visit our health/council/learning/social centre), was rescued by the afore-mentioned Firemen Sams from the flames as they still burned. Incredibly lucky, yes; asbestos bunny, nope.

Headline number two: we have a new fish shop just two or three doors down from the one I bought my supper from last night, except unlike Ruby's, this one sells fish intended for the tank rather than the tummy. We wish 'em well at CFZ Heywood and promise to pop in some time without salt and vinegar. And to report the shop's name to CFZers as soon as the sign goes up....

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Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9

LIZ CLANCY: Editorials from the pub

Just in case anyone is interested, I have posted a little history on my own blog about the man who actually did much more with his life than give his name to the Wetherspoons in Heywood where I composed my editorials in Jon and Corinna's absence....

FALLING AT THE LAST HURDLE

Dagnamit, the crypto-booze fest editorials will have to end. The editorials won't, I hasten to add, but the alcoholic theme, sadly, is no more. Apparently I've run out of cryptozoological varieties of ale to sample in the Edwin Waugh so it's coffee all round. Having said that, I dare say I can obtain a bottle of Green Goblin Cider from Morrisons when I'm done here, from the supernaturally Fortean brewery of Wychwood, which I think is based in Oxfordshire.

Anyhow, you will all soon be reunited with the blog you know and love as (unless I've misread the email he sent me t'other day) the CFZ's very own Godfather, Downes Corleoni will be back in residence on the morrow, so there will be no more need for me to bore anyone with my impending search for the orang pendek's favourite brand of vodka....

LIZ's FIRST EDITORIAL: CFZ Central goes a-roaming

This is no ordinary pint. Nay, this is a crypto-pint. As we wish Shosh and Gavin well for their forth-coming nuptuals, and wave the boss (and Jon) bon voyage for a few days, CFZ HQ temporarily becomes the Edwin Waugh pub in Heywood, Lancashire. And the Edwin Waugh sells crypto beer.

I'd best explain: my internet is down, the library disdainfully shuns users in need of a functioning USB port, and the Edwin Waugh have free wifi. Booze is just a bonus, and I shall be partaking of a different cryptozoological beverage with each editorial - it's hard work but someone must do it.

Today's pint is the intriguingly-named Wobbly Bob from Heywood's very own Phoenix Breweries. Cheers!

MUIRHEAD`S MYSTERIES: A MERMAID AND WINGED CATS IN MADAGASCAR

Dear friends,

Muirhead`s Mysteries will be appearing in a somewhat different format from now on. It will be appearing every other day, i. e. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. This is due to the pressure of other commitments.

Our first story today is about a mermaid. Nothing particularly unusual about that, I hear you say (yes I have exceptional hearing, whether you`re in Heywood, Woolsery, or anywhere!). However, this one was white, which rather rules out many animals it could be. The story is from the Omaha Daily Bee (Omaha, Nebraska) May 4th 1890:

'HERE`S A MERMAID AT LAST. W. W. Stanton, mate of the schooner Addie Schaefler, now lying at the Market House dock, while fishing for bass 300 miles off St.Augustine, drew in his line, and found entangled therein the strangest fish, if it is a fish, that has ever been caught, says a Jacksonville (Fla) dispatch to the New York Sun. This strange creature is about six feet long, pure white, and scaleless. The head and face are wonderfully human in shape and feature. The shoulders are well outlined, and very much resemble those of a woman, and the bosom is well defined and shows considerable development, while the hips and abdomen continue the human appearance. There are four flippers, two of which are placed at the lower termination of the body, and gave one the impression that nature made an effort to supply the strange creature with lower limbs. Mr Stanton confesses to quite a fright on first of his queer prize, which, on being drawn on board gave utterance to a low, moaning cry, which might easily have been mistaken for the sobbing of a baby.

'It is extremely unfortunate that Mr. Stanton did not succeed in keeping the creature alive, which he thinks might have been done, as the strange object lived two days after being taken. The schooner has been thronged all day by curious visitors, who express much wonder and astonishment at the strange object. Mr Stanton, after visiting several ports and showing his strange creature will donate it to the Smithsonian Institution. The fish or mermaid is in a large six-foot glass jar in alcohol' (1)

Could this have been a beluga, far beyond Arctic waters?

The next story dates from 16 years later and is even more improbable, if that were at all possible. It concerns winged cats in Madagascar as making an appearance in a letter to the New York Tribune of March 15th 1906: (Something tells me it is an elaborate hoax. You can judge.)

'Sir, Referring to your article in to-day`s paper, entitled “The Dog on Wheels” while it is extremely interesting as showing how the speed of animals may be accelerated by simple mechanical means it does not compare with the means which nature supplies to animals to adapt them to their environment, notably the winged cats with twisted tails like a screw, as found in Madagascar (which island, by the way, according to the researches made by Professor Russell Wallace *has flora and fauna found in no other country). These winged cats do not, like ours, prey on rats and mice, but exclusively on birds, and in order to secure their prey nature has provided them with wings like a bat, which are attached to their bodies directly over their front legs, and in addition they have spiral tails, which they revolve with a rapid motion to assist in their flight, and also to aid as a stearing apparatus, and they can in a few seconds soar to the top of the highest trees and capture birds twice there own size. Besides this, they are used by the natives as a kind of animated barometer, as before a storm they run about the fields flapping their wings and honking much as geese do now. Some two years ago a pair of these wonderful animals were imported by Professor Devoe, the weather prophet of Hackensack N. J. who is said to base all of his prognostications upon their movements and he has also bred from them a progeny which he sells off at a very high price, first of course giving ocular demonstrations of their power of flight to purchasers, but he has steadily refused to have them exhibited at the annual cat show held in this city, on the ground that it might reflect on his skill and veracity as an original weather prophet” “FITZ NIGLE”' (2)

* Russell Wallace co-operated with Darwin and was a spiritualist, amongst other things.

1 Omaha Daily Bee May 4th 1890 p.3
2 New-York Tribune March 15th 1906 p.7

Steeleye Span The Wife of Ushers Well

There lived a wife in Ushers Well
A wealthy wife was she
She had three stout and stalwart sons
And sent them o`er the sea
They had not been from Ushers Well
A week but barely one
When word came to this carlin wife
That her three sons were gone
I wish the wind may never cease
Nor flashes in the flood
Till my three sons return to me
In earthly flesh and blood..

Rich

LIZ CLANCY: The Monkeytown Moth

The Heywood Advertiser ran a story on 8th October this year about a 'rare visitor' to one of the town's streets. One of the residents of Willow Street apparently found a peculiar-looking moth on her front door. The Lancashire Moth group were contacted and the moth was identified as a death's head hawkmoth, which could have come from as far away as the African continent. According to Graham Jones of the Lancashire Wildlife Trust one of this species visits the region every year, he thinks to investigate potential sites for a new colony.

The full online version of the article can be seen here

LIZ CLANCY: Cryptokid Part Two

I'm sorry but I really dont see the big fuss about this lake monster video. Big deal. Last night new cryptokid on the block, Leo Carney, made a MUCH better discovery, and yes, as you can see, we have a picture.

The Heywood Burney Dragon (pictured with Master Carney, who caught it - what a clever boy!) is an interesting cryptid. Generally speaking, there are three distinct types: green, which goes around spewing 'burney' out of his mouth at people because he's very naughty; the red, which also spews 'burney' out of his mouth because he's very naughty too, but which also loudly goes CHOMP CHOMP on the victim; and finally, the yellow burney dragon. This chap is a decent soul; a reformed soul; he spends his days using his burney powers to cook burger and chips, or whatever meal happens to take the ovenless Heywoodite's fancy. Red and green Burney dragons can be reformed. If a child of less than five is brave enough (as Leo was last night) to go up to one of these heinous critters and shout "No! No! That's naughty! Don't do it no mores!" the green or red dragon will repent and over a period of a few weeks, his hide will transform into that of the jaundiced dragon, and he will proceed to York Street where he will be trained by the head burney dragon chef at Veenas restaurant.

For those of you who are now wondering for my sanity, YOU try being locked in the vestibule for an hour by a two-year-old who wants to look for dragons out of the letterbox!

GUEST BLOGGER LIZ CLANCY: Monkey Town

It is always nice to be able to introduce you all to a new guest blogger. Possibly the nicest thing about the CFZ bloggo is that it is a living, breathing community, and new people arrive on a regular basis. I can't tell you anything about Liz, apart from the fact that she bought some books from us at Uncon, briefly spoke to Richard, and has a charming habit of referring to me as `Mr Downes`, when everyone else calls me `Jon` or `Hey You` (or somethimes something more scatological). She is obviously one to watch....

It was from the friendly little town of Heywood in Lancashire that I descended on UnCon in November 2008 for the first ever time. I was looking for anything to do with ape-men and I was not disappointed. I sat like a five-year-old at story-time through Richard Freeman’s almasty talk (genuinely convinced he had caught one and would bring it out any second; I even primed my camera just in case!) and bought every book on the CFZ stall that mentioned Bigfoot in the contents list.

You see, British Bigfoot has fascinated me since childhood. Growing up in nearby Rochdale I heard tales of Heywood, or Monkey Town (or Ape Town) as residents and neighbours call it: a little mill town where the people have long brown tails and the pubs have holes in the bar stools to accommodate said appendages. This was a place where monkey-men and human apes roamed the streets and local woodland; where it wasn’t safe for ordinary men and women to walk alone lest they be accosted by Roddy McDowell’s less benevolent cousins.

When I moved to this place of wonder almost three years ago I eagerly cased out the local pubs with my mate Donna for incomplete bar-room furniture. I took the dog to the Roch Valley Nature Reserve in case Bigfoot lurked under the footbridge over the river like the troll from the old fairy tale.

Alas, my hopes have recently been dashed. Ape Town has a railway line and a station; now mainly used by the East Lancashire Railway Preservation Society; and this line was built by Irish navvies who pronounced the Heap Bridge section “Ape Bridge.” The nickname stuck and ever since Heywood has been proud to call itself Monkey Town.

There is a little hope, however: on a recent late-night walk through town I did notice a group of very suspicious-looking hominids in black tracksuits, swigging beer and puffing on spliffs at the back of Morrison's.