reviewed in Tanzanian Affairs No 71). Nyalali’s lasting achievements included persuading initially suspicious, even hostile politicians, of the importance of the rule of law and then chairing the Presidential Commission which restored multi-party politics in place of the one-party system. Prominent in the debate which led to the adoption of the Bill of Rights in 1984, he also launched a legal literacy programme to help Tanzanians understand their laws. He was instrumental in creating the Tanzanian Court of Appeal, over which he presided. He died on April 2nd and was commemorated at special Mass at a packed St Peter’s Church, Oyster Bay.
Former Minister of Health and former Chief Scout DR LEADER STIRLING (97) who died on 7th February was described in an obituary in The Times as ‘the epitome of the muscular Christian and, like Livingstone, became a legend in his adopted country. His life was like a tale from Buchan or Rider Haggard.’ Further extracts from The Times: ‘He was on his way to becoming a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons but, before completing his exams, he prayed: “Lord, what will you have me to do?”. Two days later there came a cable from the Universities Mission to Central Africa: ‘A doctor is urgently needed at Masasi; can you come?’ There would be no salary, a suit of clothes every four years, and pocket money of one shilling day ….. He spent the next 14 years in a hospital of mud huts -cooking pots and stores of food, live hens, spears and bows and arrows were stowed under the beds in the wards; the operating theatre was an openwork bamboo building with a grass roof and every gust of wind filled it with dust and dead leaves; there was no running water and the hospital had no lighting except for oil lamps. Nevertheless, with meticulous asepsis, he achieved a post-operative infection rate of almost nil.. …. After these years at Lulundi, he became a Catholic and joined the Benedictine Mission. They sent him to Mnero where he built another hospital and started a school for rural medical assistants. 15 years later he was transferred to Kibisho, Kilimanjaro Region. He devised instruments from simple materials: screwdrivers made ideal traction-pins; sewing cotton was perfect for ligatures; Thomas splints were contrived from bamboo; extension cord from plaited palm leaves with stones as traction weights; when plaster of Paris ran out, he made his own from locally quarried gypsum. He devised a new bloodless operation for the giant swellings of the scrotum caused by Filiariasis. At independence he became a Tanzanian citizen and was elected to Parliament. In 1973 Julius Nyerere made him Minister of Health.
In 1993 the Royal College of Surgeons made him a Fellow by Election -a rare honour.’ His funeral was attended by thousands. It rained in buckets for more than two hours -the first rain for five months. In Tanzanian folklore, it rains only on the funeral of a truly great man.
CMV : /r/Funny is not Funny

"providing fun; causing amusement or laughter; amusing; comical:"

Out of most default subs that get up-voted on the front page /r/funny  is the the least amusing. It's the lowest common denominator type of stuff , lowest of the low hanging fruit, so processed that most corporations could use material for marketing PR, it's like coffee without caffeine, 2Pac - Hit Em Up without insults..

Basically it is not authentically amusing content. It  feels like  forcing you into  safe cute giggle rather than genuinely amuse you.My Slow Evolution in Masters Swimming
"Keep coming; you're making progress"
In September 2009, at age 58, I decided to get fit. I showed up at the Saluki Masters Swim Club on the campus where I work wearing a JC Penney’s drag producing suit and 20.”
Lucy and I swam the 25-yard short course on one-minute intervals. We were totally out of breath. Lucy kept saying the coach wanted to kill us. And I believed her. But in spite of this I came back the next day. Lucy stopped showing up after a few weeks.
Coach Clay talked about the importance of regular attendance at practice. He said that for an older person to improve their swimming, resistance training was imperative. “Oh no,” I thought, “I’ll have to do weights too.”
My skill level was quickly assessed. I swam. I was timed. “You’re a weak swimmer,” Coach Clay declared, yet in spite of this I came back the following day. I observed the other swimmers perform incredible feats with seeming ease. Clearly, I thought, they must be Olympic medalists.
I showed up again the next day. “Good morning, Joyce,” coach Clay exclaimed, surprised that I hadn’t given up. The assessment continued. I was asked to demonstrate my breaststroke. “That’s incorrect,” coach Clay said. But there I was the next day. “Good morning, Joyce!” he sang.
I kept coming to practice, day after day, and every time coach Clay was surprised. I kept swimming and getting out of breath.
During the first few weeks, I was in a kind of shock. I took the weekends off and stayed in bed, remaining as motionless as possible. I needed to rest as much as I could in order to survive the next practice.
My workouts were totally adaptive. Each day after warm up coach Clay looked at me and said, “Take off your red fins, and put on your blue ones.” (This is an inside joke only he will get). The red fins were huge propeller fins, which I thought made me swim smoothly and really propelled me along. Never mind that no one else had giant propeller fins.
Day after day I appeared, and coach Clay would cry out, “Good morning, Joyce. Take off your red fins, put on your blue ones.” My intervals were three times as long as the other swimmers. I often had to rest while the rest of the group completed the sets.
Soon I purchased a new competitive suit. It would be the first of many. When my new fins arrived Coach Clay wrote my name on them. “Write ‘M.P’ Joyce,” I said, “for Michael Phelps.”
From the beginning the other swimmers were very supportive. “Keep coming,” they encouraged, “You’re making progress.” Coach Clay was amazing. He could see I was persistent and willing to work hard. He gave me so much positive encouragement. He constantly told me how great I was doing.
Over the holidays, when there wasn’t a scheduled practice, I’d go to the pool and work on my 25s on the :40, and turns off the wall for hours, alone. After the holidays coach Clay said, “You’re looking good!”
One day, after about four months, he told me I was losing weight and becoming toned. I no longer brought my red fins to practice.
A few months ago, I reminded coach Clay that it was my six-month Master’s anniversary. This might have been a mistake on my part because from then on I was not going to be coddled. I would be expected to look at the time clock to figure out my correct intervals, remember to descend when I was supposed to, and even – usually with fins – to keep up with my group.
It’s been about nine months now since the day of my first Masters swim. Next month I’ll turn 59. They say I’m getting faster and becoming a better swimmer. I’m feeling pretty fit. And, I’ve amassed a truly impressive collection of swimwear, which continues to grow.
I can’t do a lot of things, like a decent breaststroke, flip turns, or dive off the block. And I’m definitely the slowest swimmer in the club. But I show up and work hard. I’ve had perfect attendance for over four months in a row. And I memorized the five P’s coach Clay wrote on the board: Patience, Practice, Persistence, Perseverance and Pleasure.
For me, Masters swimming continues to be both challenging and rewarding. I’m totally grateful to my supportive coach and fellow swimmers.
Swimmer Joyce Deutsch contributed this essay to let us know how important Masters swimming has become to her, largely through the efforts of her coach, which underscores the special relationships many of our members have with their coaches.
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