TRYING NEW THINGS
Have you ever woken up one morning and wondered, Maybe today I should try looking out at the world from a different angle.
I know my Ma used to always say that.
Quintus, she would say, There is always another way to see how matters are.
Of course the old girl was already a bit tottery back then I was usually pilfering the small change from the flour jar and running out the back door before she had finished.
In hindsight maybe Ma did have a point though.
I mean think about it. The world is a big place most everyone will see their life just a little differently.
For example, not everyone will see the funny side of a rotten flounder hidden in their shoebox.
Nor, I suppose, should all and anyone get a laugh discovering their dog throwing up; and hanging out of a window.
But then who lets their fondest pet eat rancid fish; that I ask you?
Of course you shouldn't answer that I wouldn't get too caught up on the arrival of freethinking it is, after all the departure that really hurts.
Put simply if this epiphany, specific to these circumstances, should arise for you then in my experience here is what I implore you to do.
Apologise.
Apologise in Greek and Latin if you can Etrurian won't do because you end up sounding like you're asking to be beaten about the head with a fat blood sausage.
Ah, yes Etrurian.
Now there's a backward language.
Verbs for nouns, questions for answers and generally spoken by large hairy men with smelly shoes, a dog with tummy ache and always a rather lofty upstairs window.
Of course it could have been worse. After all, I mightn't ever arrived at this profound conclusion nor had time enough to share it with you.
Perhaps it's how the blood comes rushing to your head when you're hanging upside down, some distance outside a lofty upstairs window and holding an angry Etrurian's queasy dog.
Still, Ma had a point the world really does appear quite different from this angle.
That is to say, normally one could become very aware that their tunic has fallen down over their face and is no longer covering one's most prized bodily ornaments.
Yet dangling fifteen feet above the pavement, I can tell you, a cool draft to the nether regions loses all its wistful enjoyment. And needless to say, the more blood rushing to your head, the less for those other parts particularly the appendage best used to judge an upside-down man's character, or lacking thereof.
And from all those concerns, watching Arretium's upturned Temple of Aeneas swaying in the distance can become an ample distraction even for one so religiously indiscreet.
The Etrurian capital of old they told me filled with culture and wonder the old Rome.
A worthy city to practice your art, they said.
What piffle.
The only two things this place and the splendid home of our glorious Senate have in common are being somewhere in Italy and and well perhaps they only have one thing in common. Why even Romulus and Remus bypassed this hilltop horse trough to build their city in a swamp. Obviously the founders of Rome discovered mosquitoes and malaria more agreeable company than Etrurians.
Yes indeed, Etrurians are a foul tempered lot.
Just as quick to swing you out over the footpath as to say, How do you do?
So now you might understand my growing appreciation for other opinions.
Still, it may not adequately explain to you how my life managed to become so turned around. Well, all right, I will admit it took more than an unfortunate accident with a fish and a dangling dog but where should I start?
Discovering my parents in-flagrante might offer reasonable excuse?
No, too long ago and repressed according to my apothecary.
Perhaps it was the day I learnt a toad down the back of a girl's dress at school was not the most romantic gesture although it's still my option of last resort.
Then there was the time I thought I might be a professional actor.
Ah, yes, that's where the trouble started when I joined Titus Baebius' Travelling Greek Comedians and Tragedians.
Don't be fooled by the Thespian analogies in our travelling troupe's title, we're no better than amateurs and very bad ones at that but never have a band of cut-throats and ruffians looked so good in make-up.
Of course we are all entirely reputable and upstanding members of Roman society, and we certainly do not deserve the labels so many place upon us. If we break the law, it's only to be paid what we are worth maybe a little more in some cases but if a wine merchant can't count, who's to blame?
Our wits and talents, for example, far exceed most expectations which I agree are usually pretty low.
Take our Leading Lady for one.
Curtia has many special acting techniques, yet as long as the audience can see just how far her cleavage extends and discover she really is blonde at the same time then they're more than happy as a rule.
The rumour of her previous profession is merely very believable hearsay that I enjoy spreading.
Her four-timing boyfriend and complete cad presuming cad is short for several venereal diseases also happens to be my boss, the one and only Titus Baebius himself.
Troupe manager, lead actor, philanderer, money squanderer and self-confessed former swindler, although as I might have time to tell you, his old tricks are still pretty fresh.
In fact, I think I can safely say that because of the talents of both Baebius and Curtia I'm the one about to take this fall. Indeed I can remember distinctly what Baebius told me not three days ago when I still didn't know enough Etrurian to say, Beat me with a fat blood sausage.
No one will know us there, he'd mused in Latin I might add, he's only three parts Greek.
Bollocks.
No one knew us anywhere else and that didn't stop him and his girl getting me in trouble.
So that is where I the Great Quintus Furius Calvus full time dogsbody and part time Onstage Villain, will point my accusing and slightly trembling finger at Baebius and Curtia.
This is their fix I'm hanging in.
It was all so simple
