Mangrove Jack & STRESS

I keep running into this character or on reflection, it's probably more accurate to say this character keeps turning up on the river bank at Barmah.  He's sort of a non descriptive bloke, of a non descriptive age, and quite frankly it's hard to come to know him, except on a non descriptive basis.  Oh but he does keep turning up and he always likes a chat, providing you do all the talking.  He calls him self Mangrove Jack, which I don't let on, but I figure it's not his real name.  Now there's no mangroves around this part of the Murray River, so typically out of curiosity not long after he first appeared, I asked where he came, to be dubbed with a title, like "Mangrove Jack", and as is usual when you try and pin Mangrove down with a direct question, you will always receive answers that tell you anything or everything but what you are interested in.  He told me there was a fish in the tropics by that same name and added, he had never seen the fish or the tropics.  I guess one should be pleased to have learnt something, even if it was not what one, was trying to find out.

Well we were having a run of weather you wouldn't believe.  Middle of winter and for nearly two weeks the temperature was in the twenties every day.  Not quite up to summer conditions but better than spring. Short sleeved shirts and shorts were the order of the day and even then you could work up a sweat thinking about digging worms to go fishing. The bait selling outlets in this district were making a killing on those wriggling red worms, I can tell you.

Well as was not unusual, Mangrove turns up each afternoon.  I think he thinks, he is walking a dog but he never has one with him.  Mangrove's face, which normally gives away nothing, was looking just a little more gaunt each day.  The better the weather became, the worse he looked.  I know, yes I mean it, I know I shouldn't have asked him anything about his disposition but he was looking a lot worse than ordinary.  So in my usual conversational and tactful manner I said to Mangrove, "what's wrong with you?".  Thinking that for once because of his ailment, I might hit the jackpot, and get this Mangrove talking.  What he did say threw me totally.  I mean this guy doesn't have conversations.  Typically he will grunt out a non descriptive greeting, listen to anything you want to talk about, then contribute with nods and non descriptive exclamations.  In time he will tell you, after the minute hand on his non descriptive watch has passed another full hour that he had better go.  Ask for his view on football, politics or almost anything and the normal response is along the lines of, "I reckon it's  tricky that. I will have to think about it".  So when he uttered a sentence, of one word, to describe his condition, dumbfounded would describe my reaction perfectly. "Stress!".  That was it in total, a one word sentence.  Stress.

Making deductions and coming to the wrong conclusions is an art that I have been developing, for as long as I can remember.  Teaching this skill would be a breeze as it comes very naturally to me, but when I tried it, I could never get any pupils.  The problem I had here though, was difficult for me to comprehend.  Like in this case, the conclusion was already in place so I couldn't jump to it.  Mangrove stated categorically he was under Stress.  Figuring that if I could work out why, it might be possible to reverse the process that had brought him into this abnormal state and return him back to normal, which might not really be any better.  Nothing ventured no miracle, so they say. I had to try.  Figuring that I had asked one question and had received a very complete answer, any more questions would have to phrased in such a way that the reply could be a nod, a yes, or a no.  Try over taxing Mangove's conversational art, and you end up with a negative return.

"Great weather?", for openers. A standard cliché used by all who converse in English and in reply I received "Mm".  Analysing this non descriptive response to be translated to a yes, I gained a little confidence that a diagnosis of Mangove's condition might be possible.  He was after all, able to revert to his normal dialogue, after making the mammoth disclosure he was under STRESS.  Taking into account that as the weather seemed to improve every day, and conversely Mangove's condition deteriorated every day I made a tentative deduction there must be a major clue here.  

Earlier the same morning, there had been something between a mist and a fog on the river.  Perhaps a summer haze, would best describe this effect.  Now before the sun was above the trees you could look out on the river and see two different effects of light horizontally.  Where the sun light, was shining the haze was obliterated but below, the rays in the shadows of the trees created a mystical eerie mood, which seemed to perpetrate the scene.  From a distance six pelicans approached gliding along, just above the shadow, with the sun brightening up their black and white colouring.  Oh for a camera to capture this peaceful scene, freeze it to share with others.  I iterated this placid, calm, peaceful picture, to Mangrove, and I am watching his face for any reaction.  He was almost asleep on his feet.  I was telling him the long version.  The gaunt look almost went and almost left his face non descriptive.

Making deductions and coming to the wrong conclusions and my success rate, I did mention before, but I was convinced that I was on to something here.  Mentally I stowed away two key words, Weather and Scenery.  To find a relationship between scenery and the weather was going to take some heavy lateral thinking and quite frankly I reckon I would be pretty good at it, if I knew what it was, so I thought I better probe for some more clues instead of delving into things I didn't, know or understand.

Mangrove's doing his normal thing of course, even though half asleep, waiting on yours truly to keep the conversation going, so just to eliminate any possibility that the reduction of the gaunt look I had observed was related to a placid, calm, peaceful picture, I calculated what the heck. Last night's sunset was a beauty.  Ill test Mangrove's reaction to that. Rambling on for about ten minutes or more, I had red, yellow and orange colours in the sky, golden clouds, the slowest sinking sun, silhouettes, reflections, all combining with the river and the red gums, to make the ultimate, sunset ever imagined.  Reports came over the news that night of deceased artists and poets moving in their graves.  Intent on recreating a serene, tranquil, mood with words for Mangrove, I promptly forgot what words had come out of my mouth, because I perceived that this time, he was asleep on his feet.  Good news too, the gaunt look on his face had been replaced by his normal non descriptive look.  

Sceptical would describe perfectly my opinion of hypnotists.  Mangrove was asleep on his feet and what else could it be put down to but hypnotic suggestion?  For a brief moment I thought I had discovered non descriptive hypnotism.  Then a kookaburra started laughing right on the branch above our heads and interrupted my train of thoughts.  Naturally my inferiority complex agreed with the kookaburra and dismissed, non descriptive hypnotism, out of my vocabulary permanently.  Not withstanding, why Mangrove was asleep, that kookaburra did set off a reaction, that even if I was to swear on the bible, that what I had witnessed and heard, I am sure not one acquaintance of Mangove's would believe me.  Three sentences in one day from Mangrove!  This laconic loud laughing kookaburra, wrenched Mangrove from his feet sleep.  In very descriptive language with each second word starting with "F", Mangrove calls the bird all the names under the sun and then tells me, that those bloody kookaburras think it's summer and have been waking me at four every morning, for the past two weeks. Then he adds with plenty of "F" words sprinkled in among the dialog and now the Bloody thing's woken me before I can go to bed!  No wonder I am Stressed.