Page Two
2001
The Year in Review
  
 
fell away beneath them.
     A nasty skirmish marred the otherwise peaceful
and forested landscape of El Samole in July when
WHITE-TOED MUSCATELS and HUMPBACK-
ED MACAROONS began squabbling over that
nation's rapidly-shrinking supply of zazu fruit.  The
fruit of the zazu bush was recently found to have a
palliative effect with regard to Prawn's disease and
is now in great demand worldwide.  And speaking
of shrinking, Caracador is, and it is projected that
by the year 2120, most of their resident HOPPING
HOWLERS will have to relocate to Gorgonzola.
August broke over most tropical regions with its
usual heat and humidity, and the muddy Horntoad
River dried up almost completely.
      In September the giant space primate that has
been heading toward the Earth was found to be
still heading toward the Earth, and Dr. Basil Smith
of the Chudleigh-Lilydale Royal Tasmanian Prima-
tological Observatory announced that he is con-
vinced that it is up to no good.  No information has
been released as to when the huge space-dwelling
creature will get here.  Dr. Strathaven Aberdeen of
the Dundee Scottish Monkey Institute startled the
primatological world in October when he revealed
that he believes the Loch Ness Monster to be a
form of aquatic primate, similar to those in Lake
Badongo.  He is now under observation at Glasgow
Psychiatric Hospital.
      WEEPING GUENONS lost their specific status
in November because of a general reorganization in
taxonomy.  They are now considered to be a sub-
species of RUBBERNECK GUENONS.  When this
change was announced there was to no one's great
surprise much weeping and not a little gnashing of
guenon teeth.  Chris Shaw's latest book, Primates
and Primate Newspapers, was published in early
December to generally poor reviews, and he stated
in an interview with the Hellmouth Star Ledger and
Daily Chronicle that he would be taking a break
from writing for at least a week.
     In summary, we can only say that things are bad
and getting worse, so from all of us here at the New
Primate Nooz to all of you out there, we wish you
Happy Foraging in 2002.
     Well, it was another bad year.  People all over the
world continued to mourn the absence of the Primate
Nooz, the distinguished primatologist Dr. Hermann T.
Beauvais was killed in a research accident in southern
Taiwan, gobo roots were found to cause apoplexy in
some men between 29 and 31 years of age, Santa Rubia
Island resurfaced briefly but sank again, and an abom-
inable primate escaped from Boris's Animal Circus, but
aside from that it has not been much better.
      2001 began on somewhat of a sour note in January
when Sylvia the Psychic Simian predicted that before
the year was over, the Malagasy Extinct Lemur Society
would have three new members, but she stubbornly re-
fused to reveal who they might be.  In February, Jujube
cancelled the 25th International Plummeting Competi-
tion after a GREAT HORNED GIBBON and a BLACK-
EYED TAMARIN collided in mid-air while dropping
from the top of a giant blue greasewood tree.  They are
currently recuperating at the Plummeting Injury Rehab-
ilitation Center in Kijani.
      March was a surprisingly cold month and primates
from Togobogo to Cheesequake shivered.  An emer-
gency shipment of overcoats to the Tabora Highlands
region of Tanzania was accidentally dropped overboard
in Lake Victoria and could not be recovered.  Eric Scot-
meister Fleiglehaus was fired in April as the Travel
editor of Chimp Digest and went to work at a consider-
ably reduced salary as an apprentice paper flattener for
Automotive Primatology Magazine.
       Hellmouth Small Appliance Repair was the victim in
May of an unfortunate occurrence when Bill Measely's
hydrogen laser spotlight, which they have been keep-
ing in storage in a back room since 1993, suddenly
came to life and swung around without warning,
sending out hot 1250° beams that destroyed a number
of color washers and gas scanners.  The Morongoro
Crater in Badongo-Gazimbi collapsed like a giant
sinkhole in June, taking with it an entire population of
MORONGORO CRATER BROWN MACAQUES.  Re-
searchers on the rim of the crater said they could hear
the frantic chattering of the monkeys as the ground
 
 
REPORT FROM THE FIELD
By Eric Scotmeister Fleiglehaus		 Greetings from Jabalpur!  You probably don't even know where Jabalpur is, but that doesn't matter since I do, and I'm here.  So sit back in your favorite chair, kick off your shoes, grab a Guinness and enjoy, because this is my.....“Report from the Field.”
       When I heard that Primate Nooz was going to resume publication, I e-mailed Mr. Kashihara Takeshitahara, new owner of the Nooz, whose brother Takeshi was a colleague of mine before being lost in a whirlpool, and he suggested that I reprise my old column and do a “Report from the Field” about Dr. Poon Sanddandtundra, the eminent Indian.  I immediately resigned my position at Automotive Primatology Magazine, cancelled my next Monkey Mechanics seminar at Sigsbee Junior Night College, gave my cat to a friend, turned off the gas in my apartment, and reserved a seat on the next flight to New Delhi.
      That was last week.  I arrived here on Tuesday at the Jabalpur National Bluetongue Macaque Reservation along the silt-filled Ghaghra River in the dusty state of Uttar Pradesh in northern India, and I've been hard at work writing my “Report” ever since.  The new car provided me in New Delhi by the Takeshitahara Corp. worked out fine, and I had no mechanical difficulties whatsoever.  Quite a change for me, I must say.  Unfortunately, it was stolen by a gang of Untouchables while I was shopping for hair gel in Sardarshahr, and I was forced to travel the rest of the way by canoe along a series of rivers, first the mighty Firozabad, then the blackwater Muzaffarnagar, then the Ganjapur and the Chindwara, the smaller Raipatna and Indore and Modasa, and finally the Ghaghra, by which time I was thoroughly sick of rivers and canoes and India in general.  But when I did finally arrive at the whitewashed wooden front gates of Jabalpur, I was sure glad I had come because Dr. Poon Sanddandtundra was waiting for me with a broad smile and a large glass of warm Nepalese brandy.  Several dozen children raced out of the house and toted my suitcases into one of the guest bungalows, laughing and shrieking, while Dr. Sanddandtundra walked me around the compound.  After a delicious dinner of toor dal, chickpeas, palak alu and bhindi tamatar, with some excellent peach-mango ice cream for dessert, it was off to a comfortable bed and my first good night's sleep in several days.
      On Tuesday night, monsoon rains fell across Uttar Pradesh and the Ghaghra River overflowed its banks and flooded the compound.  Dr. Sanddandtundra quickly evacuated all the personnel, but somehow he forgot about me.  I woke up Wednesday afternoon to find everyone gone, and everything except my bungalow underwater. Fortunately, there was some naan and mango chutney in the cooling box, and I nibbled on that while working on my “Report,” wondering what exciting things Dr. Sandandtundra would tell me when he returned.  Would I hear about the bluetongue macaques?   The giant monkeys he found years ago north of Nepal?   The pouched langurs he kept as pets when he was a child?  Abom-inable primates and his relationship with Uzman Shakhrisyabz?      
      By Friday, the naan was beginning to run out, and I was feeling a bit peckish.  I managed to swim across the com-pound to a little supply hut that had emerged from the receding waters and found some cans of spicy lizard koorma and a few water-logged boxes of powdered yoghurt.  My “Report” was going well, so I took the rest of the afternoon off and rigged a crude hammock in the upper branches of some dwarf Nizamabad trees.  I lay there listening to the sibilant sighs of several greater Indian mongoose in the forest as the sun slowly sank in the west.  Dr. Sanddandtundra returned the next morning but was busy all day cleaning up the mess.  He promised to spare me a few minutes to tell me about his work at the Reservation and his discoveries north of Nepal, but after several brandies he fell asleep on the front porch of his house and didn't recover until I was getting ready to leave on Sunday.  I had very much wanted to find out something about him so as not to disappoint my new superiors at the Takeshitahara Corporation, but the canoe was about to depart and I had many rivers to traverse before filing my “Report.”
      That's about it for this issue.  I wish it hadn't rained, but those are the breaks, right?   Remember what I used to say? Nothing in life is easy.  Anyway, next time, if the Takeshitahara Corporation will get me another car, I'll try to get to the Abominable Primate Study Center for a chat with Dr. Uzman Shakhrisyabz.

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