Horse Feathers

Another New Year's Eve and once again we respectfully say "Horse Feathers" to all party invitations and outings of any sort, although the invitations are not so forthcoming as they used to be - wonder why? Maybe it's because we prefer to stay home and eat animal crackers and duck soup. Call us coconuts but we would rather spend a day at the races and a night at the opera than set foot outside the door and get up to any monkey business.

If you are not a Marx Brothers fan, then you may not have picked up on the movie references in the previous paragraph. However, if you are a fan you will know that there is a Marx Brothers marathon on TV tonight and that is where you will find us clad only in our pjs. Or as Groucho would have said "I spent New Year's Eve watching TV in my pajamas - how it got in my pajamas I'll never know!"

Since this is the last blog entry for A Maritime Home Companion I want to thank you all for reading my mental meanderings over the past year. It was fun and I appreciated all the comments - some of which were more fun to read than the stories.

A Maritime Home Companion may have run its course but it's only fair to warn that you haven't heard the last of me. So out with the old and in with the new - a Happy New Year to all and be on the lookout for my new blog, Digital Donuts - coming soon to an appliance near you.

Nothing But Nice

This is a nice little story about what didn't happen to me a few days before Christmas way back in 1989. What didn't happen was that I didn't go to jail. I got to spend a nice Christmas with my little family instead of having to prove I wasn't naughty. I have always been thankful and amazed that things did not take a turn for the worse - must have been the Spirit of Christmas looking out for me. As usual, an explanation is required. Here goes...

John was about eight years old at the time and I had gone all out that year, decorating the house inside and out, upstairs and down. I was even so inspired that I trimmed our car - complete with tinsel, silver balls and even working lights strung all around the roof inside. It looked really special if I do say so myself. We would drive around with the lights on enjoying the neighbourhood displays while listening to Christmas music on the tape deck. Nice memories - but like I said, it was what didn't happen that makes that year so memorable.

John had a little friend who lived on our street and her name was Emily. It was a few days before Christmas and John and Emily were playing in the yard while I was puttering around in the garage. It was late afternoon and not yet dark when I asked John if we should show Emily our beautiful Christmas car which was parked in the garage. Sounds harmless enough so far - doesn't it? Well read on...

I guess I didn't notice that John had disappeared downstairs to play Nintendo as I turned on the Christmas lights in the car while only half listening to Emily chattering away in the background. It was still light outside and even in the garage the little lights did not have the desired effect so I thought it best to close the garage door, enclosing what turned out to be only me and Emily in the darkness. It was truly a magical moment as the lights twinkled away in the darkness, but the moment didn't last too long as it finally dawned on me that John was no longer with us. However I didn't have much time to consider the situation as in the distance I heard someone calling "Emily.... Emily". That was when it hit me.

I turned off the lights, pressed the garage door opener and as the door slowly opened there was Emily's father at the end of our driveway as Emily and I climbed out of the car and shuffled out into the twilight. I don't remember what I said at that exact moment - probably stammered an explanation about a special surprise for the kids or something of that sort. Her father was surprisingly calm as he collected his daughter and guided her homeward down the darkening street.

Of course I am using a little creative license here but the story is true. There was never really any problem and it was only in looking back that I even realized what a strange sight we must have been emerging from that darkened garage. I explained the situation and we had a laugh and said our seasonal pleasantries and I am happy to say that what might have appeared naughty was really nothing but nice. Oh, and by the way, did I mention that Emily's father was a prominent lawyer and her mother a judge?

I'll say it again - the Spirit of Christmas was really looking out for me that year.

"Christmas Is..."

There is a song called "Christmas Is" and it is a favorite of mine - one of those songs you hear late at night on Christmas Eve with the radio playing low, usually sung by the Percy Faith Orchestra or Perry Como.

"Christmas is children who just can't go to sleep.
Christmas is memories, the kind you always keep.
Deck the halls and give a cheer - for all the things
That Christmas is each year...."

Christmas is many things to many people, but to me Christmas is a feeling that you find when you least expect it. And I keep finding it every year - sometimes it is a little more elusive than other years but it always shows up. I have found Christmas in many places - I have found it in Woolworth's notions department or the drug store counter, I have found it on ski hills, I have found it in church and in the emergency ward while suffering from the flu. I have found it skating alone on a frozen pond and I have found it driving in my car. I have found it late at night on the TV and I have found it in the maternity ward. One year I even found it in the palliative care ward.... that one was a little hard to find, but there it was.

I have found it in run down apartments and I have found it in beautiful homes with fireplaces aglow. It doesn't matter where it is, as long as you recognize it when you find it. It might not always be shiny and wrapped in tinsel, it might even hurt a little - sometimes joy comes at a price. I know what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown, and so do you. My advice at this time of year is to just leave yourself open to all the possibilities.... stay calm, be brave - wait for the signs.

Christmas is where you find it - but don't go looking for it, it will find you. Of course there are places where Christmas is a little easier to find and there are places where it will positively hit you over the head. I hope you find Christmas again this year and if not, I hope Christmas finds you.

Bring Back the Bells

Listen.... do you hear that? No you don't and neither do I. It is the sound of silence; the sound that was left when they quieted the bells of Christmas. I am talking about the bells that the Salvation Army volunteers used to ring at Christmastime as they once again held their Christmas Kettle fundraiser campaign.

And what a joyful sound that was! I can still hear it.... a gentle reminder that the spirit of Christmas was alive and well. It may have bothered some people but it sure never bothered me whether it was outside on a street corner or in a crowded mall. It was for a good cause - the best cause of all; people helping people.

It is quite common now for charities to mount their fund raising efforts around Christmas to feed the hungry and provide the children with toys and there is nothing wrong with that. But the Salvation Army has been doing it for generations and the symbol of the Christmas kettle with the volunteer ringing the bell has become synonymous with the spirit of seasonal giving. My grandmother did it, my sisters have done it and are still doing it to this day. I am very proud of them all.

What a wonderful charitable organization the Salvation Army is - it puts them all to shame without even trying. So I say ring those bells! Make skinflints like me dig even deeper into those lint-filled pockets. Fill those kettles! Make a joyful noise - you have to if you want to be heard above the sounds of the video arcade and Maria Carey warbling over the mall sound system. If I wasn't such a good Anglican I would be tempted to get out there and do it myself!

And for those of you who prefer the modern way of doing things - there is even an on-line version of the traditional Christmas Kettle. It is called the Ikettle and it can be found right here:
Ikettle

Personally I prefer the real thing so I will be dropping by the nearest location with my heartfelt, though meager donation - but hey, it all adds up, right? So make your contribution - and while you are at it ask them to make a little noise and maybe bring back the bells. After all, it's Christmas - a time when miracles can happen and who knows... who knows.

El Dummo

I wanted to call this story "The Christmas Baboon" but when you read it you will see why I chose an alternate title.

El Dummo is a name I have given to myself to explain away those stupid, mindless moments that we are all familiar with. For example: driving away with your briefcase on the roof of the car, wearing two left handed gloves to shovel the driveway, leaving the yeast out when baking bread or making consistently bad plays at card games. Or how about emailing a picture of a squirrel with over-sized testicles to a sales client instead of a price quote? At our house these are affectionately known as "El Dummo" moments and we have all had them, some more than others - they make life interesting.

But just last week I had a an El Dummo moment to beat them all - and it involves a baboon in a tree. Well not an actual baboon, it just looks like a baboon to me; no one else can see it apparently, only me. I better explain....

Last year a house on the next street had some Christmas lights strung in a tree and (to me) they always appeared in the shape of a baboon. I knew it must have been an illusion like a stain on a wall or patterns in clouds - but I found this one particularly fascinating.

This year when people started decorating for Christmas I was astounded to see that once again our neighbour had somehow managed to string his lights up in the shape of yet another baboon. At first I was just confused but my confusion quickly turned to amazement! What were the odds? Of course when I excitedly told Julie about it she was unimpressed - having heard me go on about it all last year. She is used to these musings of mine and usually just lets them pass.

For several days I continued to be amazed at the return of this festive apparition. I was even starting to consider it some sort of Christmas miracle when I happened to drive by in the daylight and saw the strings of unlit bulbs in the tree in question. That was when it suddenly dawned on me that these were the same lights as last year, they just didn't take them down! It wasn't another baboon after all - it was the same baboon! This might not seem like much of a cognitive leap to you now, but at the time it was nothing short of a revelation - an "El Dummo" moment if there ever was one.

I guess I am relieved that the mystery has been partly solved but that doesn't change the fact that there is still a baboon in that tree. Don't just take my word for it either, drop by our house this season and see the Christmas baboon. And while you are at it, check out the one in the tree too.

Jennifer's Aniston's Eyebrows

Remember the internet? I don't mean that rabbit hole our culture has fallen down and where we all now spend our days as half-willing prisoners. I mean the big old wonderful, mysterious internet of our youth.

I can still remember the first time I even heard the word internet. It was at a Highland Games committee meeting in 1994 and someone brought along a sheet of paper with some jokes he had downloaded and printed from.... "the internet"! I played it cool and pretended that I knew what this internet thing was all about (apparently it had something to do with jokes) but on the inside I was dying to get home and find out more.

Fortunately I had a teenage son to explain it all to me - John being about 14 or 15 at the time. So to make a long story short we bought a computer and a modem, got a dial up account and after many endless hours of technical support we were finally connected to the world wide web. But the fun was yet to come, in those pioneer days you had to download something called a browser - Netscape Navigator being the popular choice at the time. It took many agonizing hours just to down load it, if you were lucky enough to snag a connection which I recall as being somewhat of a gamble in those days. And heaven help you if someone lifted the phone receiver and cut off your connection!

Once it was downloaded and configured - then what? We had no idea what to do. There was no Google, no YouTube, Facebook, Napster or even CBC. What fun! The majority of websites were text based and Netscape even came with an option to turn off images for faster browsing - imagine that.

But for the truly patient there were images out there worth downloading. In fact the first image I can recall downloading was none other than Jennifer Aniston (remember - it was 1994). I was showing the wonders of the internet to some male friends and I could think of no better way to get their attention. Photos loaded very slowly from the top of the screen to the bottom as we all stood there transfixed, slowly admiring her hair, then her forehead and by the time we got to her eyebrows the ice was starting to melt in our drinks. But we were hooked and we could only imagine what the future might hold...

Eventually we all discovered email, and who among us cannot remember the absolute thrill of receiving an email? We had speakers and a message that announced loudly and proudly "You've got mail!" and everyone came running. Most email messages in those days were in the form of jokes - jokes from the internet. A dancing baby! Run a program and your CD drive would open and close! At Christmas time Rudolph would fly around your screen or if you clicked on a certain link, why a beautiful woman would clean the inside of your monitor with her breasts! Ah - those were the days...

But all this wild fun has come to an end due to our fear of viruses - who sends prank files anymore? We are too busy Googling and blogging and updating our status on Facebook to be bothered. I am just as guilty as anyone but now and then it is nice to remember when the internet was a little less complicated and still full of mysteries. Of course we can't go back to those days nor would I want to, so just for fun, as a reminder of those simpler times - I think I'll finish up this blog and go check out Jennifer Aniston's eyebrows.

The Quest

Last Saturday I decided it was time to start up the snow blower for the coming winter season, no point in leaving it to the last minute. As it turned out, it didn't want to start right away and I soon deduced that it needed a new spark plug. Since I had bought it at Sears I figured that was the best place to go for a spark plug... that was my first mistake.

So my journey began with a trip to Sears and after watching two young wizards valiantly trying to help a lady with some sort of warranty problem - over the phone of course, I politely interrupted and inquired as to where I might find an RJ19LM spark plug. One of the two waved his hand vaguely in the direction of a nearby counter indicating silently that they might be over in that direction. He was right indeed, and there they were - three spanking new spark plugs hanging neatly on hooks. That's right - they had a grand total of three spark plugs in stock! Of course these were not the ones I was looking for and the mystical young clerk gravely suggested I would have to call their Toll Free customer service line.

I said maybe I should try Canadian Tire and Sir Skippy's face immediately brightened as he wisely agreed - so off I went feeling my luck was about to change. And things really did seem to be looking up as I gazed down an isle festooned with spark plugs of every size, shape and brand - except the one I was looking for. I was starting to get desperate so after a time I flagged down a passing wizard and asked if he could help me find the elusive RJ19LM spark plug and to his credit I will admit he was more enthusiastic than his counterparts at Sears. He even enlisted the help of another nearby wizard who reluctantly joined in The Quest.

I felt truly blessed as these two weekend warriors searched diligently through mountains of cross reference manuals and knitted their brows as they punched in magical codes and gazed into their glowing computer screens. It became a Battle of the Titans as they went head to head seeing who could out perform the other in their staggering knowledge of spark plugs. This wasn't about me anymore, I had become a mere bystander in what was apparently becoming their solemn quest for an RJ19LM - the Holy Grail of spark plugs.

Ultimately the two finally admitted defeat and announced that my Quest was indeed a great one and if I was to meet with any success at all before the coming snows I would have to continue my journey on Monday morning and make my way to the land of.... (the sound of tympanis in the background).... Auto Machinery. And that is just what I did.

Auto Machinery, to the unenlightened - is a magical place populated by friendly and truly knowledgeable wizards who have practiced their craft for many years. These are not merely minimum wage weekend wizards - in fact they are even closed evenings and weekends; five days a week being sufficient time for them to perfect their mastery of all things mystically mechanical.

The wizards who work there are friendly and wise and I was quickly directed to the next one available who greeted me kindly and smiled confidently awaiting my command. When I revealed to him that I sought the rare and precious RJ19LM spark plug he laughed cheerfully and said "Oh, one of those - we have 64 of them in stock!".

Scarcely had his fingers touched his keyboard when he announced that my spark plug was on the way from their cavernous warehouse and offered to escort me to the cash register. Upon our arrival there, a minor trainee wizard appeared from behind a door proudly bearing the very object itself - my Quest was complete!

And so ends the happy tale of my Quest for not merely the RJ19LM, but for goodness, truth and honesty in the wicked world known as retail shopping. My advice to you, all who read this and seek assistance in the future, is to take my council and make your journey far away from the Malls of Suburbia and venture bravely into the land of Industrial Wholesale, Farm Co-ops and even small Independent Hardware stores. Your journey may be long but it will be worthwhile and you, like me, will find true knowledge, contentment and surprising variety - not to mention ample parking!

So as the season of shopping quickly approaches, be warned and be wise - and may your Quest for the rare and the precious be as successful as mine.

Chinatown Calculation

"It was a dark and stormy night...."

Sounds like a cliche beginning to a scary Halloween story doesn't it? Well you are wrong because it is not a horror story and it is not a cliche because it really was a dark and stormy night.

I was in Halifax on business many, many years ago and I had arrived very tired and very late and very hungry. I was working for myself at that time and didn't have an expense account so I had to scrounge around for a cheap motel where I could crash for the night and hopefully get a bite to eat.

After checking in to a flea bag motel with no dining room or other amenities to speak of, I asked the charming night clerk where I might get a late night meal. He recommended the local Chinese takeout joint which was just a few blocks away - at this late hour it sounded perfect.

I ordered the super combo platter to go and was assured that everything I needed was in the bag so off I went back to my room to enjoy a late night feast. I unpacked all the little white cardboard boxes and was almost drooling from the smell of sweet and sour chicken balls, fried rice and juicy spare ribs swimming in sauce. I covered everything in plum sauce and extra soya sauce - ready to enjoy this messy, sloppy delight. I was about to commence when I reached into the bag for some cutlery and found.... nothing.

I ripped the bag open and tore open the little bundle of napkins - surely there was something here - a knife, a spoon - a chopstick!? But no. I stared at the delicious morsels swimming in sweet and sour sauce, the fried rice smothered in soya sauce, the chop suey... and started to panic. I called the front desk but no luck, flea bag hotels do not stock extra cutlery for unfortunate guests. What to do...

I was able to snare a few chicken balls with my fingers and the egg rolls were no problem but what about the rice and the noodles? I had to have it all! I looked around the room, in the bathroom, in the night stand.... and then I spied my suitcase. But what were the chances that I had packed some utensils before leaving on my road trip - pretty slim I was afraid. In desperation I opened my shaving kit and there it was.... my salvation - a shiny, new plastic shoe horn. A quick Chinatown calculation told me that my problems were over.

I am not ashamed to admit I ate every bite and never did a meal taste so good. I may have choked a few times as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and burst out laughing, but I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. I still love Chinese food but after my experience on that dark and stormy night I will never be able to enjoy it without a strange association with shoes - and now neither will you. But at least you can be thankful that I didn't title this story "Shoe Horn of Plenty" or even worse - "Chop Shoey".

"SUPER SEX"

I bet that title caught your eye, didn't it. And if not then maybe the cartoon picture did. However, this blog is not about sex or cartoons, but feel free to read on if you like... all will be revealed.

"Cow and Chicken" was a twisted cartoon from the late nineties about a brother and sister, one a cow and the other a chicken; a curious set of siblings if ever there was one and that is all I have to say about that. As it turns out, this blog is actually about soup - so why the cow and chicken? Well, it just so happens that cow and chicken are my favorite soup flavours and I think the picture makes a nice graphic, don't you? And why the sexy title you ask? Well, who would want to read a blog called "Soup"?

What brought this on is that I was enjoying my weekly cup of soup after delivering Meals on Wheels last Sunday when I realized how much I love soup. Especially free soup. You see, after the meals are delivered if there is any hot food left over it is discarded and wasted. I have made it my solemn duty to ensure that this does not happen. Hence my weekly reward of a hot cup of leftover soup, all the more enjoyable now that the weather is turning cooler.

Soup is the ultimate comfort food and it goes with everything. Everyone has their favorite, be it tomato, chicken noodle or an old favorite of mine - Bean with Bacon. And what goes better with a sandwich than a nice bowl of soup?

Soup makes you think of frosty winter days when you have just come in from the cold. You can turn up the heat to warm your outside but nothing warms your insides like a hot bowl of soup. Just putting your face near the bowl to blow on it is therapeutic - and the steam rising warms your face and clears your sinuses. Soup may be good food but it is also good therapy and good medicine. Lipton chicken noodle is the best "medicine" soup for when you have a cold. Who cares about the high salt content - all you want is that steam up your nostrils and that warm feeling in your chest. Ahhh....

Some people have a knack for making soup. I do not have that particular knack and any time I try to make some it always ends up tasting like wet meat. Julie is an excellent soup cook - her beef with barley is not to be missed and is a yearly tradition come Remembrance Day when my brothers and sisters gather after the ceremony. A fitting tribute to my veteran father - a man who loved his soup.

My parents always had a pot of soup on the stove and it was truly a work in progress. Leftovers were just added as they became available so it might have started out as beef or turkey soup but who knows what all ended up in that pot. All I know is that there was always plenty of it, it tasted good and with buttered crackers on the side it made a pretty darn good meal. Not a bad way to stretch a budget either...

So like the punchline goes in that corny joke about the old man who is offered some Super sex, on these chilly autumn days - "I'll have the soup!

Scootie

Woo Hoo! Passed my motorbike road test. Lock up your daughters!!

Under Where?

Cherokee.... Commander..... Comanche.... Do any of these names ring any bells....? How about Protocol? Nothing? Perhaps the names Robert or Calvin will help. No? Well then, if Mr. Stanfield and Mr. Klein don't give it away then I am sure Hanes, Fruit of the Loom and Jockey will clear things up quite nicely.

By now you should have a clear picture of my topic for this blog - underwear. Men's underwear in general but more specifically my underwear. I am sure some of the brand names mentioned above are familiar to many of you but the lesser known names are from my own personal collection. I have tried many brands over the years but they have mostly fallen by the wayside so to speak - destined to inhabit that portion of the dresser drawer reserved for "emergency only" service.

Why would I pick a topic as delicate as this? Well - they say you should write about what you know and believe me - I know my underwear. What brought this about is that I just "culled" my underwear drawer which is a semi-annual task necessitated by the ravages of daily wear and tear. This culling was needed in order to make room for the two new 6 packs I bought yesterday. There was a big BOGO sale at Zellers so it seemed like a good time to stock up - Fruit of the Loom being the big winner this time. I may be lured away by fashion or discount brands from time to time but inevitably I always return to good old reliable Fruit of the Loom - white, Y-front briefs if you must know.

Underwear, like many of the items in our throw away culture has a finite period of structural effectiveness after which time the functionality begins to diminish exponentially in direct proportion to applied stress. Too technical? OK then, I will put it in plain English for you. Underwear, over a period of time tends to get baggy and saggy and droopy. And if there is one thing I cannot abide - it is droopy underwear. But what to do with underwear that has ceased to function in the capacity for which it was intended?

I don't like waste any more than the next person but I just threw 11 pairs of old underwear in the garbage can and I had no choice. I have a social conscience just like you and believe me - I considered the 3 R's (Reduce Reuse and Recycle). But those guidelines just don't apply in this situation. I certainly can't see how I can reduce my underwear - and Lord knows it has been reused enough. Many things in this world can and should be recycled but not underwear. Do you want to wash your car with my old underwear? Well neither do I....

The best we can do for our aging underwear is to respect it and ensure that it is enjoyed to it's utmost capacity and when the time comes that it has outlived it's usefulness it is OK to just let it go and move on. And isn't that the way we all want to be treated when we end up all saggy and droopy? I think so.

Read all About It!

I love newspapers - I love the look of them and the feel of them and even the smell of them. They are not like a book or a magazine because they are something unique and different and are meant to be read in a different way. Newspapers open up to you, they enfold you and let you get right inside them.

Some people just like to randomly peruse a newspaper and then discard it all over the living room floor (Julie?) but I am pretty disciplined when it comes to the newspaper ritual. I like my newspaper neat and folded and I have to read it the way it was printed - front to back, section by section. If an article starts in section A and is continued in section D - I don't jump ahead, I will have to read the rest of it when I get there.

Some people prefer the sports pages or the editorials or even (God forbid) the obituaries - to each his own. But the comics are the part of the paper I look forward to the most. What kind of a world would it be without Dagwood, Snoopy, Dilbert and Garfield?

Even though I love newspapers I can also see the wastefulness of them in that they use up so many trees to bring us the news that we can easily get on TV or on the internet. And don't forget the huge cost of physically distributing newspapers all over the planet every single day - a monumentally wasteful enterprise! It costs more and more to produce and distribute newspapers so they sell and print more advertising thereby exacerbating the problem. It makes me angry to see so many supplements in the paper every day. That used to be something associated with Christmas shopping but now it is pretty much year round. The newspapers are in trouble and ironically they seem to be contributing to their own demise.

I fear the newspaper as we know it will not be around for much longer. It is a ritual and a comfort that is destined to become a relic of the past. I don't want to see that but I also don't want to see vast resources wasted. Recycling may be part of the answer but I don't think that is enough. I think they have to concentrate on keeping the newspaper focused on what is was intended to do - deliver the news. Of course there has to be some advertising material but that needs to be controlled. However, I am not naive - I know this trend will continue and that newspapers will continue to grow and bloat until they implode and we ultimately we will be forced to read our daily news on a shiny plastic tablet. Probably better for the planet but personally, I will miss that tactile connection that only comes from ink and shredded trees.

So I plan to continue reading newspapers as long as they continue to print them and I hope that is a long time. The day will probably come when they are just a remnant of the past but I hope I am a remnant of the past by that time too. And in case you are wondering what Dagwood is up to these days - have a look....

http://www.blondie.com/strip.php?month=10&year=2010&comic=2010-10-2

A Message to all Voters

Today is the day for all Progressive citizens of New Brunswick to go forward and do their duty. It is not necessarily a time for being Conservative - but it is a time for New opportunities. So exercise your Democratic right and consider what each Party has to offer.

Try to be fair and Liberal in your choice. After all, this is the People's election. Together your votes can form an Alliance for good government. And always remember - the rest of the world would be Green with envy to have a political system like yours.

Voting is not just your right - it is your duty! So do your part - get out there and vote for the party of your choice. Or just close your eyes and take your best shot. Flip a coin, spoil your ballot or just make a doodle. The main thing is that you vote - it is more important than you think.

This non-partisan message has been brought to you by Votecom*- makers of the finest in political road signs, political posters, junk mail flyers, ballot boxes, ballots and short, stubby pencils. So when you make your mark - be sure to make it right, with quality Votecom* products. Remember our motto.... "Keep on Voting!"

*Votecom is a division of Scantron*

Two Thumbs Up!

I went out to "a show" the other night and I have to say I was completely entertained even though I have seen it many times before. This show has literally been around forever - yet it is still enjoyed by young and old alike. With all the hype these days about high definition and 3D it was refreshing to see one of the old classics again. I never get tired of it - I still see something different every time.

There was only a small crowd on hand, but that didn't matter - we all had front row seats. And there was no need to get there early because there are no commercials or previews with this show - just the main feature! As the light started to fade you could sense that the small but appreciative crowd was settling in for an evening of quality viewing.

Imagine watching a show that has been seen by more people than Gone with the Wind, Avatar and Titanic combined - yet it has never won an Oscar or even been nominated! It always starts out slow with the same old plot; simple yet fascinating, but as the light starts to fade the attention of the crowd is once again riveted on the drama unfolding before their eyes. The color was glorious and even the sound was so clear and crisp you could hear every nuance. No people talking too loud or coughing and shuffling, no annoying cellphones. Maybe just the sound of a few loons in the distance... huh?

Oh, did I mention I was talking about a bonfire? The longest running show on earth and it never ceases to fascinate people. And best of all it is absolutely free - except for the cost of the firewood but you can just drag that out of the woods. This particular bonfire was playing at Peltoma Lake last week and I suspect it will be making a return engagement next year and I for one plan to be there.

But don't take my word for it - be sure to see this perennial crowd pleaser the next time it is showing at a lake or a beach or a backyard near you. You will not be disappointed - and I am pretty certain even Siskel and Ebert would have agreed on this!

Get Back!

Before I start I would like to wish everyone a Happy New Year! That's right - Happy New Year! And I would not be surprised if you found this greeting to be a little premature considering it is only early September- but read on and I will explain...

I have always thought of the fall and Labour Day in particular as more of a turning point in the year than what we traditionally call New Year's Eve. Think about it for a minute - summer puts everything on hold; life seems to be in a state of suspended animation for three months. School is out, people take holidays and go away or just power down and cope with the heat. We all function on automatic pilot or maintenance mode - anything important that has to be done can wait until fall... well guess what?

Fall is the time of year when we get back to being busy. There is a lot of work to do and the light is fading fast so no more lounging around in pools and sitting around in the shade sipping iced tea and beer. Take off those shades, pack that bathing suit away, put down those ice cream cones and let's get back to work!

Now is the time of year when most of our major holidays and cultural events still lie ahead of us - the real ones. All summer has to offer is Canada Day and that happens before summer even gets here. Once Labour Day arrives, we get back to school and college; we settle down and get back to our jobs again. Soon we will get back to giving thanks again and remembering again - something we don't do in idle summer.

We are Canadians - we are people of the north. We are not designed for hot weather that lasts more than a few days, let alone weeks or months! We are built for wearing lots of clothing and taking off a layer or two if it starts to warm up a little. Fall reminds us of that fact. And just as the Beatles sang long ago - it is time to "get back to where we once belonged."

Who is with me?

Death by Dying

My current project at work involves scanning death records from the last century and linking them to an on-line index. As sexy and cutting edge as that may sound, it can become a tad boring at times. So I amuse myself by taking note of names, places and other types of data as the hours crawl by. The data in this case has to do with death and dying.

I do not mean any disrespect for those who died of terrible diseases such as cholera and typhoid in the later part of the last century. And I certainly don't mean to make light of the high rate of infant mortality either - that was very evident and very sad. I was shocked to learn of the surprising number of babies who died from teething and measles!

Many of the reported causes of adult death were unfamiliar names such as "sprue" - which is celiac disease today and "dropsy" which had nothing to do with being clumsy but everything to do with congestive heart disease. "Consumption" was another popular cause of death - it was what they called tuberculosis. "Scarlet Fever" and "La Grippe" sound almost harmless and kind of exotic but they were very deadly and people died within days. These were all terrible ways to die, and what is really sad is how many young people died and how fast they succumbed to their particular illness.

So please forgive me for my insensitivity in pointing out some of the other more amusing causes of death as listed on official death certificates.

Here are some examples:

"diarrhea"
"poisoned by eating phosphorous off matches"
"machinery run down"
"worms"
"gravel"
"sore leg"
"shot in face"
"suddenly"
"worn out"
"don't know"
"brain trouble"
"sickness"
"murder"

Below are listed some of my personal favorites. Remember, these are listed as OFFICIAL causes of death:

"kick of a horse"
"sudden death"
"fell down a well"
"96 years"
"possibly lightning"
"doctor did not say"
"baffled state of physician"

...and the best of all - "husband of Olive Leger"

We certainly are lucky to live in this modern world where measles will not kill you in a matter of days. Many of these terrible diseases have been eradicated but I suspect people will continue to die as they are struck by lightning and fall down wells. I guess the best we can hope for is that most of us will just "run down" and succumb to the number one cause of death in this or any other century - old age.

The Issue of the Tissue

What is up with toilet paper? I ask this because of a job I am doing at work right now which involves the visual inspection of microfilm for the provincial archives. Currently I am doing The Evening Times Globe newspaper from 1965 and I have been taking note of the advertisements for food, clothing, cars and the usual commercial commodities. However what has really caught my attention are the ads for toilet paper - with the good old 2 roll pack standing out in particular.

And this was in the era when the average family unit was 5 to 7 people! I started out working in the grocery business, stocking shelves with toilet paper among other things - and I can assure you that the 2 pack was the standard and indeed the single roll was quite popular too. My question is this - how did we do it?

Stop reading this blog right now - go to your closet and count how many rolls of toilet paper you have on hand. I'll wait... (Jeopardy Theme song)...

OK - I just counted mine and there are 18 rolls. A full 12 pack and the remains of the previous 12 pack and I didn't count partials or check under the vanity of either bathroom so I am guessing a total of 21 rolls minimum. I am willing to bet this is the case in most households. Why are we stockpiling toilet paper?

The world has changed and so has toilet paper. The roll diameter is still the same but they have quilted it and puffed it up so much that we are not getting the value we used to. You now need a degree in advanced math to calculate the square centimeters per sheet times the sheets per roll times the rolls per pack to make an informed purchase. And don't forget the ply factor.

I am not saying we should go back to the days of the using the Sears catalogue or even the one ply commercial grade stuff. But folks - we are "wiping out" entire forests here - doesn't anybody care? I am sure some toilet paper is made of 100% recycled material but think about that for a minute. What are they recycling?

Greenpeace has a lot to say about this topic but their solution is to buy premium priced products made from recycled paper to save the forests. A noble cause but I don't totally agree. This problem must be solved from the bottom up my friend - and the solution is right in your hand. We did it before and we can do it again!

We hear the term consumer demand being used so freely - so go to your local store and demand that they start stocking the good old 2 pack and stop trying to fool us with fluffing, quilting and baby powder. I think that with a little adult potty training we can get behind the issue of the tissue, wipe out waste and get to the bottom of this. It is time to sit down and be counted!

Epilogue - we stopped in to Canadian Tire the other day to buy some camp stove fuel and as we headed down the main aisle I caught Julie eyeballing a huge display of toilet paper - 24 pack! I just kept on walking....

Breakfast

The other night I watched a documentary on Maine public television all about breakfast. Yes it was hot out and I was in the cool basement and nothing else was on but that is not why I watched it. I watched it because I love breakfast. I have been a fan of breakfast for years - starting way back when I lived in Calgary. A good breakfast place needs to serve good food but it also needs a catchy name and Calgary had two of the best - Humpty's Egg Place and Moishe's Posh Deli.

I guess I first started to love breakfast when I was a traveling salesman out west - where the first call of the day was usually breakfast with coffee and a local newspaper. And when you are wide awake at 7 AM in Rocky Mountain House there is nothing else to do except eat breakfast. And in case there is any misunderstanding let me clarify the term "breakfast" for you. It must include eggs, toast and coffee to meet the minimum requirements - however after that the sky is the limit. And the variations are endless - mushrooms, smoked salmon, Spam, kippers, and grits - you name it and I have eaten it. And please don't give me any porridge, fruit plates or bran muffins. Breakfast is breakfast - you can call that other stuff something else.

Julie and I have always loved going out for breakfast - this started way back when our kids were very young and once they were off to school we were off to the nearest coffee shop. We have had many favorite places over the years - Keay's Fruit Market, Boldon's Cafe and even Cora's back when they had the early bird special. Currently our favorite is the Sunshine Diner - still serving a bottomless cup of coffee!

This love of breakfast has lasted until this very day - I still get up and cook breakfast every weekday morning. My specialty is the "Egg Mc" something - usually an egg served on an English muffin with cheese and whatever else we have. On the weekend I might be more adventurous - even cook breakfast outside on the BBQ. This time of year, late summer - I usually have fried green tomatoes at least once. Of course we all know that eating tasty food will slowly kill us - but what a delicious way to go!

Breakfast has actually become one of our favorite holiday traditions and I truly think we look forward more to Christmas breakfast than Christmas dinner. Julie's father always makes Eggs Benedict whenever we get together at Christmas and I am looking forward to that pleasure this year. Other years we have smoked salmon with sliced red onion and capers on Montreal style bagels. And coffee - lots of coffee.

Heaven forbid that I am ever on death row but if I am and they ask for my last meal order here it is: 2 poached eggs - hard, crispy bacon, hash browns, toast and coffee, preferably a bottomless cup and keep it comin'.... take your time, I am in no hurry.

Too Hot!!

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Id ius quod too hot!

Dinner with George

I had dinner with my new friend George the other night. He is a pretty popular guy and I wouldn't be surprised if some of you have dined with him too. It was an unexpected impromptu sort of a meal as I had planned on dining alone. My wife and son were out volunteering at the local Community Kitchen and I was left to fend for myself. I was tired after work and didn't feel like turning on a hot oven or firing up the barbecue. What to do? That is when I thought of George...

I haven't known George for a long time but he is getting to be a fixture around the house and has become like one of the family. He is a reliable sort and not fussy in the least - and he is quick and efficient in the kitchen.

At exactly 5:35 I had decided on a piece of steak, some roasted potatoes and fried onions. Like I said, I was tired so I left the cooking to George and at 5:43 sharp everything was ready - all I had to do was fill my plate and enjoy. Imagine that, everything done to perfection in only eight minutes - and no greasy mess or smelly kitchen to deal with. George takes particular pride in that fact and it is one of the things I like most about him. He is also proud that his cooking is not only quick and clean - but healthy too!

I guess when you come right down to it, you could call George a "lean, mean fat reducing cooking machine". Because that is what he is - a George Foreman Grill! I have heard of these for years but I didn't believe all the hype until now. This grill can handle just about anything you throw at it - beef, chicken, vegetables, hotdogs, grilled cheese - you name it. And it is fast and efficient because it cooks both from the top and the bottom.

As you may know, George Foreman was quite skilled in the boxing ring as well as in the kitchen and holds many world records and titles. He had a long career for a boxer and always surprised his fans and opponents by staging seemingly impossible comebacks. His professional record of 76 wins and 5 loses is nothing short of impressive - especially when you consider that 68 wins were by a knock out.

In this world of hype and Sham Wow marketing the George Foreman Grill knocked me out with excellent value at a fair price. George and I both recommend it to anyone who wants to eat well and feel like a champ!

Big Games

THIS BLOG WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN ON JULY 27 2010

The other day when I was out for a walk in the Industrial Park I saw a group of young kids in a parking lot playing Red Rover. There they were - facing each other in two long lines with arms linked together calling out "Red Rover Red Rover - send Tommy right over!"  I found this strange for two reasons. First of all, you don't see groups of kids playing outside that much any more, and secondly you don't see a lot of kids in the Industrial Park. The mystery was soon solved however, when I discovered that the kids were part of a group of young actors who attend a summer school course held in a warehouse near where I work. Maybe it was part of their exercise break or maybe they had an acting coach who was leading them in some sort of structured activity - whatever the reason they sure looked like they were having fun.

And it sure brought back memories of when I was a kid. We played Big Games like that a lot because there were so darn many kids around to play with. It was no problem to get up a game of Red Rover or British Bulldog when I was growing up because everyone else was growing up at the same time. There were so many of us that our parents certainly didn't want us in the house. So we played outside and made up our own games. The older kids taught the younger kids and showed us the ropes so to speak. I don't think there were any official rule books but we all played by the rules.

The best Big Games were the ones that could accommodate the most kids - that is why Hide and Seek was king. Anyone could play, we all knew the rules and if you could count or hide behind a tree - you were in. And as kids we were all so good at making up local variations of games. I remember playing a version of Hide and Seek called Give Me a Wink - if you were "out" and another player winked at you - you could go hide again. Brilliant! Another version we played was called "Chase" and it was basically a teenage boy/girl combination of Hide and Seek and Tag but with what we hoped would be a lot more body contact. You had to be there...

I started thinking of all the Big Games we used to play and it is a long list. I am thinking mainly about large group games that didn't require any adult supervision and had no limit on the number who could play. I have already mentioned a few but here are some of the rules to the games as I recall them:

Hide and Seek - the simplest game of all - no description necessary.

Red Rover (or British Bulldog) - 2 lines were formed facing and each team held hands or locked arms. A player from the opposite side was called and if he could not break through the other line he was kept - if he broke through he could take a team member back to his side. This tended to be a very rough game.

500 Up - a form of baseball without the bases. A batter hit the ball into the field where any number of kids were required to catch the ball for a variety of points. 100 for a fly ball, 75 for a bouncer, 50 for two bounces and 25 points for a grounder etc... first one to get 500 points gets to be batter.

Scrub - scrub was a form of baseball without keeping score. Everyone got a chance to play by moving through the various positions in turn, great fun and great practice. If only more sports could be so democratic.

Go Go Stop  123 Red Light and Mother May I? were all different variations of the same basic game. One kid up front called out directions while the other kids tried to see who could reach the caller without being caught out in some sort of illegal move.  Simon Says would fit into this category as well.

Tag was another Big Fun Game that could accommodate large numbers of children of all ages - no skill was required other than running and tagging or avoiding being tagged. In keeping with the local variation theme - we played a game called Frozen Tag where you had to remain frozen in position until someone tagged you (or untagged you?) again.  Forgive me if I am missing some of the subtleties and nuances here but it has been a long time since I have played any of these games.

I have nothing against organized sports but it is interesting to note that all these games required a great deal of cooperation with no adult supervision and were played equally by both boys and girls ranging in age from preschoolers to teenagers. I don't know about you but I think it was a better world when we all spent more time running, hiding, seeking and tagging.

Oh and by the way - you're it!

My Kingdom for a Fork

I went shopping the other evening and I bought myself a new fork. Yes - you read that correctly... a fork. And it was on sale! But wait, I am getting ahead of myself.

First of all, I was not shopping specifically for a fork. I was actually looking for some shirts. We went to Value Village and I picked out a couple of nice summer shirts and found a pair of shorts with a penny in the pocket so I HAD to buy those. Who can pass up lucky shorts?

But you want to know about the fork, don't you. I guess you should know that I have a thing for forks - I am VERY fussy about forks. After all - this is something I am going to stick into my mouth thousands of times. Now you might say that a fork is just a fork, but you would be wrong. We have a variety of forks in our drawer at home and they range from flimsy "tinfoil" forks to what I refer to as "horse forks"; more suitable for lifting hay in a barn. A fork is a tool, and as the saying goes "The Right Tool for the Right Job". A quick check on Google will confirm that there are at least 25 different kinds of forks but I am mainly concerned with the everyday dinner fork.

There are several things to consider when looking for a new fork. Size in general is important - it must fit comfortably into the hand. Weight is also a consideration - too light and you may as well have a plastic fork and too heavy can cause fork fatigue. Nobody wants that. Esthetically a fork should be pleasing to the eye without being showy or frivolous. It should have a good balance and a comfortable grip with a smooth but not highly polished surface. Exceptions may be made at Christmas and formal dinners.

One of the major considerations when shopping for a good fork are the tines - the 4 pointy parts in front. And I stress that there must be 4 tines - no more, no less. These must be slightly curved and wide enough to hold a variety of foods and sharp enough to spear, yet not so sharp as to risk injury. After all, the fork is the most versatile of the cutlery family and must be used for everything from a delicate souffle to overcooked liver.

Now back to the super deal I got on this fork. It was priced at 29 cents and I had no problem with that but we had a coupon with us that entitled us to a 30% discount on all purchases. So now we are talking 21 cents - plus a 7 day return policy - no questions asked! If that isn't a deal I don't know what is.

So I will be trying out my new fork this week and I don't anticipate any problems. I will start out with something simple like scrambled eggs and maybe work my way up to some spaghetti and possibly the ultimate test - liver and onions. If it handles well I may go back for the other three and complete the set. Now if I can just find the perfect steak knife....

"The Item"

My first "real" job (not counting my paper route) was working at a little corner store called McKay's Meat Market. It was owned by Barry McKay who lived right across the street from the store. Barry, in his wisdom or his ignorance (I prefer wisdom) allowed me to mind the store alone after I had been suitably trained in all aspects of clerking a corner store.

I could sell cigarettes and penny candy, handle the cash, cut the cheese and even run the meat slicer. There was nothing I didn't know about that store and even though I was only 14, Barry trusted me enough to leave me there alone on those rare occasions when he was out. I never knew where he went and I didn't even consider that he might have a life; he was like teachers were in those days - they didn't exist outside of the school and Barry did not exist outside of the store. He just went away for a while...

Like I said, I knew everything about that store... well, almost everything. Before leaving me alone with the money, the cigarettes, the meat cleavers and grinders, Barry took me aside and gave me very serious and specific instructions about an item that was kept way up on the top shelf at the back of the store.

This particular item was neatly wrapped in butcher paper and lined up in a row on the top shelf and I was told precisely what to do should a lady customer request the item. There was even a special wooden stick with a bent nail in the end to pull it down and the price was marked clearly on the box. The only thing Barry did not discuss with me was what the item was - and I in my innocence did not ask. These were simpler times.

Left alone in the store I went about the business of a shop keeper. I swept the floor, I answered the phone, weighed up a pound or two of wieners and sold pop, chips and cigarettes. We would sell cigarettes to anyone - even six year olds, as long as they had a note from their mother and promised not to inhale. I even stocked the shelves when needed and that is when my curiosity was aroused. What could the item be? The item was about the size and shape of a box of potato chips or cereal. But it was only for lady customers so that kind of ruled out both of those ideas - unless it was some kind of special lady cereal? I was 14 - what the hell did I know! And the box was too light for washing powder and too heavy for marshmallows (I checked....) and besides, marshmallows came in bags so I was completely stumped.

Eventually on a quiet evening a lady did come in and discreetly asked if I would please get her a box from the top shelf. I got my stick and tipped it down, rang in the sale, placed it in a bag and said thank you and good night. I still had no idea what was in the box, but I was kind of leaning towards potato chips and guessing she didn't want her husband to know. And Barry was in on it...

The mystery was eventually solved when some girls I knew from school explained in very broad terms that it was a product that only females needed and that was enough for me. Of course we all know what "the item" was, since there are now aisles full of them and television ads abound. But I say it was more fun back in the dark ages when a guy could wile away those long, slow evenings behind the counter without a clue in the world, pondering the mysteries of life.

The Skyliner X-1

It's a supersonic jet! It's a speed boat! No - it's a lawn chair. But no ordinary lawn chair - this is a lawn chair with a history and a future.

The Skyliner X-1 has been in the works for many years - 24 to be exact; 23 years in the planning stage and 1 year in production. I bought the plans back in 1986 when I was in a fever of woodworking excitement - making tray tables, towel racks and crib boards among other things. Then the woodworking fever subsided for a couple of decades while I pursued other hobbies - like working and buying houses, camps and campers to fix up and resell. So I never really stopped working with wood - I just took on bigger projects. But the chair was always on my mind....

I would take the plans out every few years and glance over them, thinking that "when I had the time" I would build the chair of my dreams. Well, last summer I decided that I was never going to have the time so I just bought the materials and started. And now here it is a year later and the chair is done - all except for the varnishing. Now I am just waiting for drier weather....

I sat in the Skyliner the other day, just for a minute, and it has been well worth the wait. She is a beauty - just the right size and width for my ass to settle into, with a nice deep slanted seat and a curved reclining back, perfect for an afternoon nap in the back yard.

You may wonder why I called it the Skyliner X-1 and that is simply because I am already in the planning stage for the new improved Skyliner X-2. Since I already have the plans and with the experience gained in making the X-1, I figure this one should be ready right around summer 2024. Guess I better get started.

$5.00 Ice Cream Cone

I am thrifty. Anyone who grew up with me, has ever gone shopping with me or married me will attest to this fact. I have gotten used to wearing this old worn out shoe and it fits quite nicely thank you. But all this thrift merely means that I know good value when I see it and I know when something is worth paying for. Like our new George Foreman Grill for example (stay tuned for that blog)... worth every penny and then some.

But this blog is about an ice cream cone, a $5.00 ice cream cone. And it's about enjoying yourself. Enjoying something special, something you don't have every day or even every month. Maybe only a couple of times a year. That rarity is what makes it so special - like Christmas.

I was at the Regent Mall one day a couple of years ago - I worked nearby and was just killing my lunch hour. I didn't want to eat at any of the fast food places for all the obvious reasons. And I also didn't want to pay their ridiculous prices. What to do? I happened past the Laura Secord store and the ice cream they were selling suddenly appealed to me. Also there was a nice mature lady behind the counter giving out free samples.

She made her sales pitch and before I knew it I was ordering a single scoop butter pecan ice cream cone. The base price was about $3.00 and I wasn't too happy about that, after all - I come from an age when an ice cream cone cost 10 cents. But what can I say - I was in the mood. Then she pointed out that an extra scoop was only another dollar - and didn't I deserve an extra scoop? Sure I did! She soon had me convinced that I was worth at least two scoops.

Next she inquired sweetly if I was going to treat myself to a freshly made waffle cone to hold that extra scoop? After going for the second scoop why scrimp on the cone? Why indeed? And at only an extra fifty cents it was a bargain not to be missed! And to seal the deal - she stuck a little chocolate ornament on top - for FREE! With tax the total came to $5.18. I only hesitated for a minute but it was too late to back out now. I paid the lady with my debit card (who carries around that much cash?) and off I went, cone in hand. And you may not believe this, but that cone was the best bargain I had in a long time. Not only was it delicious but it was custom made to my specifications and I was worth it! I walked around that mall feeling like a king and if that isn't worth $5.18 I don't know what is.

I guess I don't treat myself enough - and maybe you don't either. Maybe some of us treat ourselves too much. But how many Christmases would you want in a year? And how many $5.00 ice cream cones?

It has been a couple of years now - I think I'll head up to Laura Secord again one of these days and see what the flavour of the day is. And maybe this time I will go all out and order the chocolate dipped cone AND sprinkles - maybe. Because the question I must ask myself is this: "Am I really ready for a $6.00 ice cream cone?"

Keys to the Highway

Here is a list of cars I have owned over the years and a brief comment about each. Only the most dedicated (or bored) readers need proceed...

1963 Valiant - 6 cylinder, standard, column shift, blue. This was my first car, no more needs to be said except that you could do basic service on it with a wrench. The famous slant 6 engine is still a legend of efficiency and reliability.

1966 Impala - 8 cylinder, automatic, blue. A step up but I missed the best Impala (1965) by one year. My father still had connections in the used car business so trading in was as easy as changing your socks.

1967 Beaumont - 6 cylinder, auto, blue. A step back down and it had no gas gauge and the gas tank leaked. It had a hole in the floor where you could see the road, but other than that - a nice little car. It got me to Montreal and back running on fumes and sheer luck.

1973 Gremlin - 8 cylinder, standard, purple. Not only was it a Gremlin - it was purple and had white, woolly seat covers! It got us all the way to the west coast pulling a U-Haul. Absolutely useless in snow, maybe that is why it headed for Vancouver.

1975 Dodge Monaco - 8 cylinder, auto, 2 tone brown/beige. A real beast. I used this car to travel throughout Alberta and BC as a salesman. It was so big it felt like you never left home. Needed a cardboard cover tied over the radiator in winter or there was no heat. I drove it back east in the middle of February and sold it to my sister Sandra for $50.00.

1982 Lada - 4 cylinder, standard, yellow. I bought it brand new but it was quite a step down from the grandeur of the Monaco but they were so cheap that I swear to God they were giving them away in Halifax, where I lived at the time. It was taxicab yellow, had an AM radio, standard shift, steering and brakes. It felt and drove like a tank - and what would you expect, it was from Russia.

1980 Citation - 6 cylinder, auto, red. This was a great little car. I bought it from my boss for literally nothing. I drove it and was paid mileage - each month when I received the cheque, I sent it back as a payment. Plus they paid the gas - those were the days. This car would go anywhere.

1984 Horizon - 4 cylinder, auto. Ugly monkey-shit brown piece of crap. Caught fire driving through Skowhegan, Maine. I should have let it burn....

1986 Celebrity - 6 cylinder, auto, blue. I bought this from Clarks and not a word of a lie - it broke down before I got it off the lot. It was trouble from the start and would never stay in alignment. Repairs cost me a fortune. My first car with cruise control and my last Chev.

1990 Volkswagen Jetta - 4 cylinder, auto, black. This was a definite move up in the world and it was back when VW still meant German quality but high maintenance. It was also my last car without air and power everything. It had a sunroof that had to be cranked open manually - those Germans were not big on frivolous extras.

1993 Taurus - 4 cylinder, auto, blue. Now we are talking! I loved my Taurus and it was a car made for a traveling salesman. Lots of room for samples and suitcases, power windows and locks and seats - my first car with air and the only one with a remote starter.

1996 Taurus - 4 cylinder, auto, burgundy. My second Taurus. I drove my '93 on to the lot and asked the salesman if he had a '96. He pointed to one on the lot and I said "I'll take it." The whole deal took 5 minutes and I never regretted it.

2000 Mystique - 4 cylinder, auto, mist green. This was a downsize from the Taurus and although it was a nice car it just didn't have that mid-size feel. I didn't really have it long enough to develop any sort of an opinion good or bad.

2000 Neon - 4 cylinder, auto, red. This was really my wife Julie's first car but it became the family car for seven long years. It was too small and low for my comfort and cost us $700.00 for a head gasket mere days after the warranty expired. Julie would tell you she loved it but she will have to get her own blog. This was also our first lease.

2003 Kia Magentis - 4 cylinder, auto, silver/grey. I really can't say anything bad about the Magentis. The '03 was a beautiful looking car and could easily be mistaken for a BMW.... from a distance. I liked it so much I leased another one.

2008 Kia Magentis - 4 cylinder, auto, red. This is my current car and I like it a lot - very comfortable and roomy and nice looking. Not as nice as the '03 but I am not complaining and I will be seriously considering another one in a few years. First car with heated seats!

I can't even guess how much all these cars have cost me over the years - I do know that they have ranged in price from $300.00 up to about $20,000.00 and I can tell you honestly that the car I had the most fun with was the one that cost $300.00 - life is funny that way.

Well,that is my car blog - a lot of gas guzzled and a lot of rubber burned. Hope you enjoyed it. If you read this far you are either a car nut or just plain nuts - but thanks for reading. Comments?

The Argyle Ballroom

How can you tell me how much you miss me,
When the last time I saw you, you wouldn't even kiss me? That rich guy you've been seein', must have put you down. So welcome back baby, to the poor side of town.

Can't you just feel the teenage angst dripping from every line in that song by Johnny Rivers? Can't you just imagine the oh-so-sincere but clumsy embraces between lovesick junior high students as "last dance" is called.... and alas they must part until Monday morning? Ah sweet sweaty youth!

School dances were a very popular activity in my youth and my friends and I attended them almost every weekend. But on the rare weekend there were no dances scheduled we had the next best thing; our very own dance hall. Actually it was just a modest suburban garage but over the years it has grown in legend and has come to be known as The Argyle Ballroom. It was located on Argyle Street (hence the name) and it is still there today - although the music has long since ceased to play. It belonged to a Mr. Ted Haining - a very generous and patient man who let us use his garage as a dance hall on Friday nights and his driveway as a hockey arena on Saturday mornings.

I am not really sure how this arrangement came about, he had no children our age and we were just neighbourhood kids from the block. But on Friday nights the place was ours to dance the night away amidst the old furniture, yard equipment, spare tires and paint cans. I admit it doesn't sound very glamorous, but to a bunch of lovesick 14 year old kids - it was a ballroom indeed.

We played 45's which we carried around on plastic spindles that held about 50 records - sort of like an early low tech Ipod. We played them on an old, cheap mono record player - and never did music sound so sweet, especially the waltzes. Waltzes were the most popular dance at the Argyle Ballroom - particularly in winter, since Mr. Haining's garage was not heated. But we didn't mind; all the more reason to get close to a warm girl - or as close as you could get while wearing winter coats, hats and gloves.

The Argyle Ballroom had a very small and select clientele and there were many who wanted to join us as word got around - mostly other guys. Maybe they wanted in because the boy/girl ratio was usually heavily in favour of the boys. What can I say - me and my buddies were pretty good dancers.... and the garage was very small. The fact that the girls and their parents considered us basically harmless had nothing to do with it!

There was no drinking at the ballroom - unless you count Coke, Dr. Pepper or Fanta orange soda, and the menu was pretty well limited to potato chips and cheezies. But we were there mostly for the atmosphere anyway. The music featured at the ballroom was a pretty standard mix of current dance songs by the Monkees, the Dave Clark 5 and all the other Justin Beibers of the day. We all had our favorite bands and everyone got a turn to play the song of their choice whether it was by The Lovin' Spoonful, the Rolling Stones or The Supremes. Any current Top 40 song would get things off to a good start but as the evening got late it was time to queue up the slow songs like Silhouettes by Herman's Hermits or Distant Shores by Chad and Jeremy. Serious stuff indeed.

But as for those special "last dance" occasions - well those were usually reserved for Mr. Johnny Rivers himself.... and as the man said:

Oh, with you by my side,
This world can't keep us down.
Together we can make it baby,
From the poor side of town.

Part 4 in a Series

JOHN LENNON - ROCK 'N ROLL

Imagine you are at a camp deep in the woods with a couple of your oldest friends; it is late at night, you have had a few beers and need to pick things up a little - this album will do it.

John Lennon usually brings to mind ballads of peace and love enhanced by his talent for superb production values and innovative sound techniques, or maybe even his experimental music inspired by Yoko Ono. He also wrote powerful songs with intensely personal lyrics and full of emotion; almost to the point of baring his soul. But there is another John Lennon - the rock and roller. This recording from 1975 is John Lennon getting back to his roots before he was a Beatle - no political statements or studio innovations, no distortion or looping tapes and overdubs. This is his way of connecting with the past and with the artists who inspired him to make music in the first place.

Lennon does his rendition of many of the rock and roll classics from the 50's and 60's and manages to give them his own special treatment while remaining faithful to the original recordings. There is even some between track chatter adding an impromptu and genuine feel to the recording. "Stand By Me" "Sweet Little Sixteen" and "Peggy Sue" are just a few of the standards covered as Lennon pays tribute to Chuck Berry, Little Richard and Buddy Holly.

Technically speaking, this is not a great album by the usual high standards attributed to an ex-Beatle but the sound is crisp and uncluttered and it is one of my perennial favorites nonetheless. It is an obvious labour of love and that is what makes it so enjoyable and enduring. That and the fact that everyone knows these songs and can sing along or at least clap along to the familiar tunes. My only copy of this recording is on a cassette tape - a medium that is quickly becoming obsolete so you can bet this is on my Itunes wish list. A great album for a singalong around a bonfire by the lake, or to listen to while the burgers are cooking.

This is John Lennon unplugged from all the accumulated musical baggage that comes with fame; this is the student paying tribute to his teachers while having a good old time. There is no political agenda here, no hidden message. Just rock and roll - and I like it.

I rate this album 8 out of 10.

Up Your Vuvuzela!

I just don't get it! World Cup Soccer that is. I am not the most sports minded person in the world but I know excitement when I see it and feel it and sorry folks but I just don't see it or feel it. Hockey has action and fighting and constant stimulation. Admittedly baseball can be slow but the game is built around planning and strategy. Football has lots of flash and instant replays giving the impression of constant action - and they have cheerleaders. Basketball has scores in the triple digits and even golf has the ability to build a sense of tension and drama. But soccer? Like I said - I just don't get it. The net is thirty freakin' feet wide by 10 feet high - why can't they score once in a while? They keep adding minutes to the clock and then half the time they don't even finish the game - hard to tell who the winners and losers are with all those tie scores.
There are more ties in soccer than at a father's day sale at Walmart! And is that a scoreboard they are using (1-0 0-1 1-1 0-0 1-0) or an exercise in binary math?

They say that soccer is immensely popular all over the world because it is so accessible and affordable for anyone to play - that may be true but you could say the same for kick the can and rattling a stick along a picket fence!

Crowd reaction is important to any sporting event too - cheering, clapping, booing and chanting; usually in response to some significant event or point scored. This may be happening at the World Cup but who can tell with all the horn blowing. Do these people wake up in the morning and start blowing on those vuvuzela horns? Stop it!

I know soccer fans are a breed apart and will wait patiently for years for their favorite team to score a goal - sort of like Toronto Maple Leaf fans. But I would like to suggest that this is a sport best viewed live. Preferably armed with a good set of ear plugs and your own vuvuzela - and may the best fan win!

DOG SHIT!

This may seem like an indelicate question but when was the last time you stepped in dog shit? Think about it. It used to be a very common and unpleasant occurrence and was even considered an occupational hazard if you mowed lawns or used public sidewalks. But those days are gone right? Well I thought so too until today when I stepped in dog shit not just once but twice. And it was the same dog shit!

The fact that it was the same dog shit merely adds insult to injury. I thought I smelled something familiar yet foul when I was mowing the lawn but couldn't quite place it - after all, has been a long time since I smelled dog shit. Modern day leash laws and the stoop and scoop movement have made us complacent and desensitized to this once commonplace scourge. Innocently I was on the lookout for some sort of dead animal when I spotted it there in the grass with the unmistakable imprint of someone's sneaker. Then it dawned on me that I was that someone. Case solved.

The world has changed, my friends.... but is it really a safer place? Despite on going safety measures planes still crash, oil spills get bigger and more deadly, and global terrorism is a growing threat. But like you, I truly thought the world had become safe from dog shit... until today; how naive we are as a species. Maybe this is just an isolated incident - I certainly hope so but I will be keeping my eyes down for the next while. I suggest you do the same.