Wednesday, June 29, 2005

AC, Sweet AC.

I finally got the AC back into my office. Thankfully. It has been like wearing a suit into a sauna. See, normally I don't mind any type of weather if I am dressed appropriately and sitting in a 32 degree (89.6 Fahrenheit or if you rather 305.15 Kelvin) office in a suit is not being dressed appropriately. It could have been worse though. The pickled herring could have spent the weekend in my office garbage as I had planned, but the cleaning lady showed up that evening and emptied the trash, which was unusual because she is never there on Friday.

Now it may have been the heat over the past three weeks, or a sudden and unexplained moment of clarity, but I had a thought. Not just any thought, but a terrible thought. It was a Stephen King's The Stand kind of thought. It was, what if my goofy predictions for 2005 were to come true? Okay several of them are coming true, but those were the easy ones. Honestly, it was only a matter of time before Brittany got "with child". But what if mother nature did deal us a big nasty? Could you survive? If the power went off and stayed off, could you adapt and overcome? Would you know how to find food after the grocery stores have been emptied? Remember, without power most modern farms would not function. There would be no fresh water to drink. No gas to run your BBQ, or even heat and cool your home.

Wifey and I rented The Stand the other night and through the whole damn thing I kept thinking. What would I do? What I mourn the loss of our society? If I could protect those I loved, would I actually care or would I welcome the apocalypse?

andtheansweris, I think I could, I most likely wouldn't, survive and mourn respectively.

Friday, June 10, 2005

London broil anyone?

It's been hot in South Western Ontario. Hot, like Africa hot! But humid. Really humid, like the jungle, not that I have ever been in or near a tropical jungle, but I have watched an episode or two of Survivor.

To quote a line in Good Morning Vietnam, "Warm? No. This is the setting for London broil."

So now that I have it established that I think it's hot I'll speed up to the real issue of today. Actually the same issue I've had all week, but it's been to hot to write about it.

Last week the property owner of the building that my office is in had a crew of heating and cooling boys out to give the system a check-up. The only problem they found was an old noisy blower that didn't seem to have any function other than to make noise and blow very little air apparently nowhere. So they did what anyone would do. They removed it without telling anyone.

Well that P.O.S. little noisy blower did have a function and a very important one actually. It blow the cold air into my office. You see, my office was the result of a renovation several years ago and the tenant (my business partners) not wanting to actually spend any money to upgrade the heating and cooling system, simply had the heating and cooling contractors install an old noisy blower, which as I mentioned was removed a week ago.

SO until the heating and cooling boys come back to reinstall the old noisy blower (Yes, they are going to reinstall the old P.O.S. instead of paying for a new one) I will have to accept the temperature of my office being a London broil setting.

I wonder how bad the pickled herring I found in the staff fridge is going to smell after spending the weekend in my garbage can?

Friday, June 03, 2005

Words of wisdom. Pass it on!

'I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning that's as good as they're going to feel all day.'

Frank Sinatra

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Do you like dog?

This was a question asked of me many years ago by a youngster I uneffectionately called Einstein. He was not asking do I like dogs? like the animal. He was asking if I liked dog, as in food. Not dog food either, I mean dog!

Lets jump back 11 years. At that time Trillian and I were living in a rented townhouse. Many of our neighbours were great. Many were not! Some were really bad like the people on either side of us who every weekend would have a loud party. They would stick the kids at the others home so to insulate them from the music, foul language and drunkenness. This meant that every weekend we were beside drunken country and western party. Yeeha!

Then there was the mother of Einstein and his little brother I called Newton. They had an older sister. She was actually a really intelligent little girl now that I think of it. I didn't have a name for her. Anyway, E and N's mother was a breeder. She was having kids one after the other for the entire time we lived there. In the summer she would lock E and N out of the house while she looked after her babies, or napped or whatever. This meant that E and N, (4 and 3 years old) pretty much had to look after themselves for most of the day. They would play and fight and yell and blow these little fucking whistles, and ride their bikes too close to my car and yell and fight and blow whistles a little more. This generally started at around 6:30AM. I was going to University at the time, so most mornings I was either hungover or exhausted from playing video games till 5:00 so I really hated the two of them. Every time they left their whistles in the parking lot I would run over them with my car. I would have run over the bikes or other toys they left around, but I was never sure if they belonged to E and N or if they had pinched them from my place or someone I liked.

They were very bold kids too. They never hesitated to walk up to adults and engage them in conversation, or what passes for conversation to a 4 year old. I couldn't sit on my porch without one of the two coming over an bothering me.

The day of the "do you like dog?" coversation was like many other summer days at the townhouse. They started making noise first thing in the morning. They continued making noise through lunch, but at least by this time my hangover was nearly gone. Then they would disappear for a while. I think this must have been when their mother opened the door and let them in for dinner.

This was my time. Quite time. No one to bother me time and also usually dinner time. Then like now I BBQ'd almost every day. Chicken mostly now, steak mostly then. So I'm standing in front of my grill BBQ'in a great big prime rib steak, beer in one hand, tongs in the other when all of a sudden Einstein, the little bastard creeps up behind me and asks what I'm doing, scares the shit out of me. I tell him I'm cooking my dinner and turn back to my grill. But he doesn't go away. He starts asking all sorts of questions, non of which I can remember, except one.

"what are you cookin?"

I turned around and looked down at him and said. "I'm cooking your neighbours dog!" To which he responded, "hmmm, do you like dog?"

PS: his neighbours dog was a Rotti. BIG Fucker. I hated him too!