The Squamidian Report – June 19 / 04
For the ‘ON LINE’ version of this newsletter, go to:
http://www.members.shaw.ca/doug_b2/report.htm
Also in this issue:
Al (on the line)
Lorne
The South Etobican
The Ontarion
Hi All,
Well, I finally got around to putting the house back together. The ‘painters’ had left quite a mess but there had been no time or energy left during that week to clean it up. Never mind the fact that it should have been them that did the cleanup. First thing back was the window coverings. Don’t like feeling that people can look in from out side. When I went to put the faceplates back on the receptacles and switches I discovered that half the receptacles and switches had paint on them. They used the deck as a staging area and left it in such a mess that it probably needs to be painted. Ironic!
Then I had to catch up on all the dishes. Our dishwasher appliance, which came with the house, has bit the bullet. All it does now is make funny noises. So I had all the dishes that were in it to do as well as all the ones I’d used during the week. Our other dishwasher was off visiting in Ontario so it was either do them or buy paper plates.
*
After being house bound all week and last Saturday because of the hours I was working, Yogi was frantic to go out for a coffee on Sunday morning. Horton’s is at the corner of Highway 99 and Industrial Way. As we approached the intersection I could see the lights of several police cruisers approaching from the south. The cop car lights out here are still weird to me. They are blue, like snowplow lights back home. Anyway, I pulled into the Horton’s lot and watched to see what was happening. One cruiser came ahead of the others and blocked the intersection. Then the rest came along with the truck they were escorting. It was transporting the longest wooden pole I have ever seen on a truck. Picture the highest hydro pole you have ever seen and then double that or more. The butt end must have been six or seven feet in diameter and the top end probably about 2 feet.
It was headed for the Sports Complex where the Loggers Competitions are held each summer. There are two poles like this one there for climbing competitions and after years of use they get pretty chewed up. Always something neat to catch my attention.
*
And now I’d like to address the subject of ‘cute’, which has popped up recently. The definition of ‘cute’ and what qualifies as ‘cute’ are obviously very subjective. We all see it differently, some us are right, some of you out by a mile.
So firstly, in the warm blooded animal kingdom there are two categories. Those born mostly hairless like people and rats. And those covered with nice fur when they are born. This category is always 4 legged and always as cute as a button. Of those born hairless there are a few exceptions to being ugly, like piglets which are born so cute I can’t stand it. But they tend to grow up ugly. People are obviously in the born hairless and ugly group. Always, no exceptions. I was born ugly, my kid was born ugly, you, everyone were born ugly. And of all the people born only approximately 50 percent have any chance of turning cute as they grow up. Which 50 percent is subjective, and depends on your biological outlook. And of this 50 percent of the population, only a very very small number ever actually achieve cuteness.
But you see, cuteness which is also attractiveness was never necessary during the evolution of humans. Primitive people were always too busy hunting and gathering and surviving to care what they looked like during daylight hours. Socializing and courting and later dating took place after the day was survived. At night and in the dark, when you couldn’t see each other all that well anyway. We screwed this up a bit by inventing artificial lighting. The cooking fires of old did not count as a lighting source. They didn’t give off much light. Besides, just look at all the ugly kids that sit around camping fires. Now that artificial lighting is commonplace people have discovered that they have to artificially fix themselves up a bit. Some just try to hide the fact with designer clothing and decorations. Just look at how ugly everyone was in those old photos that were taken before lighting became the norm. But the bottom line is, we are all still that ugly. So don’t be bummed out if you and yours are not ‘cute’. The odds were against all of us right from the beginning.
However, mothers of newborns are wired to ‘think’ that their kid is cute. This is the evolution of survival again, intended to maximize the kid’s chances of making it to an age where it can fend for itself.
Editors Note: If this doesn’t get me into trouble with the liberal minded politically correct, nothing will!! But it can be a lot of fun to take what some may consider an absurd assumption, turn it into a theory and then work out a proof for that theory.
****
Being “on strike” is not
fun! Besides the obvious loss of income
there are many more ramifications.
Greg, Doug & some others will remember the lyrics of an old
Steppenwolf song where they described “People walking around with tombstones in
their eyes.” This is what I see
everyday on the picket line. We’ve only
been out two weeks and I know people who are already hurting financially. You try to tell these people ahead of time
to save their nickels and dimes in the event of a strike but they just laughed
and said, “It will never happen.”
People are always saying “It will never happen.” When Michelin first bought out the combination of Uniroyal-Goodrich I met people from the Uniroyal plant that summer who said they were sorry that our (Goodrich) plant would not be operating much longer. Two weeks later they were down the tubes and the survivors joined our ranks. This company is absolutely ruthless. They care nothing about their employees – nothing matters to them except profits from their worldwide conglomerations. Am I bitter about dealing with these A------S, you bet!
Six months ago I had a confrontation with my department manager (I had temporally shut the line down to avoid a big problem that would have caused a lot of waste product – the manager only saw that the line was down and started screaming). I came within an inch of actually striking him physically! My pal Jeff was taking it all in and later he didn’t know whether to restrain me or get a shot in when he was down. In 28 years of service this was my only reprimand. This manager is the kind of person Michelin likes in management positions and typical of what we have to deal with on a daily basis. I’m not whining but these people are absolutely brutal. No doubt everybody has problems with their employers at times as brother Doug has often mentioned in his column. (Hang in Doug and more power to you and Sue and Yogi in the most beautiful spot in the world!)
I won’t go into details but basically “Bib” wants a 15% reduction of everything we have now. They are essentially attaching all our benefits & wages which we fought for over the years! My friend Marty (our union president) said they dropped this bomb on them ½ hour before the contract expired.
The only good thing about the whole issue is meeting fellow brothers and sisters on the picket line. It gives you a warm feeling of comradeship and closeness. Many wives and companions have come out to support us including one I travel with named “Carol”. There have been several incidents “on the line” but now has escalated to the point where “nothing comes in or out”. This includes the 40 vehicles driven by salary people. Does this sound harsh? It’s only the beginning! By the way Doug if I pay for the renovations can Carol and I come and live in your back shed?
Al
(on the line)
****
Who’s Pecker Got Pecked Anyway?
Howard – you’ve got to be
right. It is difficult to admit to
being wrong for over 70 years but when you think back that must have been about
1930. If it were in fact Russell then
his mother, Howard’s mother, my mother held that baby up to the chicken
pen. Mothers with small children, busy
as they are, are not likely to have the time for that type of hit and miss
circumcision. So Howard it was.
*
We move on – to the “Long House”, built for the mill employees dating back to about the 1830’s. This was a 4 family long house that has since been designated as a heritage building. We moved into a centre unit and had the sole access to the attic. The floor of the attic is built of brick, which makes it very unusual indeed. This made an excellent place for us children to play in bad weather. I believe this to be around 1932. While we were living here my mother took me to my aunt Mabel’s for my 7th birthday. Mabel lived on Allen St. in Waterloo. To get us there meant walking through the village to the streetcar terminal across the street from the store that sold soothers to those who could pronounce the word “soothers”. I had always preferred the open-air streetcar with running boards down each side but my aunts, grandmother and mother preferred to wait for a closed car. Boarding the streetcar we traveled up Lancaster St. then veered left into open country, past the old sugar beet factory, and then on to Wellington St. to King St. We changed to the King St. car and traveled on to Allen St. in Waterloo. This trip was memorable because upon arriving at my aunt Mabel’s for my birthday we were treated to slices of Silverwoods vanilla ice cream with a green shamrock in the centre of each slice. That day my grandmother Haufschild taught me to say “Ich bin siebzig jahre alt.”
Very little entertainment was found in Bridgeport back in those days – only a weekly newspaper (our first radio didn’t come until we lived in Waterloo). One night the train engine bringing cars into the mill derailed. This brought out all the males in the village (even the 7-year-old ones) with crowbars etc. They worked through the night putting the engine back on track – they didn’t have to, this was great entertainment. Other events while living at the “Long House” include being sent to the store to buy ½ dozen eggs. In those days nothing came in cartons. Everything you bought was wrapped in brown paper with a string tied around it. The string came from a big ball suspended form the ceiling of the store with the end hanging down. The eggs were put in a brown paper bag. Returning home with my purchase I see ahead of me the village bully. I know immediately that I am going to be beat up but I might as well continue on home but the scary sight of him makes me drop the bag. I pick it up, we pass each other. He doesn’t even look at me! I look at the bag – wet and ready to loose its bottom. You can imagine my mother’s anger when I got home.
Near the end of our stay at the Long House I jumped from the porch (which extended entirely across the front of the building) on to a wood stake that had been driven into the ground. When I was released from hospital they took me to our new home on Peppler St. in Waterloo.
(Note from Carol – Dad seems to have started a bad trend for the 8-year-olds in our family. I believe all of us kids, except Gale managed to impale a foot on something at the age of 8. If you watched that Christmas classic about a boy and his red rider gun you will recall the bully in the story. From the stories I’ve heard I believe Dad’s childhood was peppered with such bullies – and that he occasionally was the bully himself.)
****
I think I last wrote about the "wildlife" of South Etobicoke. Many people might think that because I live in Toronto and am just a 19 minute drive from the CN Tower and Bay Street that I must live in a concrete wasteland. Luckily, Jim and I managed to find a great little pocket of a neighbourhood where we can be near the lake and great park systems while still being close to work and business.
Last weekend, while walking Saba at our regular park, I got a close-up view of one of the local beavers. I was standing on a little viewing deck beside one of the ponds and spied a beaver on the bank, just sitting and cleaning his (her?) face--much the same way a cat does. The beaver was maybe eight feet away, partially obscured by some overhanging leaves so the dog didn't even clue in he was there. After a few minutes, the beaver slipped into the water and I watched him swim across the pond with his snout just above the surface. We have a number of beavers at our park and they took down a number of trees in the spring--some surprisingly large trees too.
Next I rounded the pond to go check out the swans and their four babies. They were making their way around the edge of the pond and feeding at the grasses growing in the shallows. Saba trotted up a little too quickly, causing the papa swan to raise himself up tall and hiss at her. Saba's a bright enough dog to know when she's out-muscled and she backed off. The babies are so cute and fuzzy as they just follow mama swan wherever she goes. Papa swan always brings up the rear.
Do buddhist monks in their burgundy robes count as wildlife? I saw some of those at the park too.
I suppose there's also the urban "wildlife" that I see sometimes on my morning drive into work. I'm referring to the "ladies" that ply their trade sometimes on Lakeshore Blvd. (I know there's a joke in here somewhere relating to the first species of wildlife I mentioned but I'm not going to go there.) I'm always rather amazed that these women have the drive to be out there at 6:00 in the morning but can't apply that same initiative to get a different kind of job.
Moving on....Jim and I are running the 10 kilometre Run for the Best Medicine tomorrow in support of Mount Sinai hospital and the Marvel Koeffler Breast Cancer Centre. Anyone interested in sponsoring us is still welcome.
In other news, we are getting closer to our closing dates for our two properties in Orillia. I'll let you know how that goes as we get further into this new territory. As always, if you're aware of any properties for sale (such as small multi-family, for-sale-by-owner houses, or people that need a quick sale), please let me know about it. Our website continues to grow and our traffic is more than doubling every month. We've made some changes based on feedback and are always glad to hear more.
Last but not least. I have access to half-price tickets for certain show dates and times at the Stratford festival. If anyone is seriously interested in attending, please email me back and I'll get you some more information. Jim and I will be attending Guys and Dolls later this month and are really looking forward to it.
Have a great week everyone!
Thought of the day: "I've got a great ambition to die of exhaustion rather than boredom." Thomas Carlyle
****
THE ONTARION REPORT
JUNE 19, 2004
Hi everyone! Once again I’m
communicating with you as a non-winner of Lotto 6/49! Oh well I say, maybe this
weekend. I had a real solid feeling about Wednesday nights draw but as usual,
it didn’t pan out as I had hoped. LOL! I guess I’m not the only one in the
Squamidian membership that has those thoughts but this time it seemed soooooo
real when I dreamed of the President of The Ontario Lottery Corp handing me the
4.5 million dollar cheque in my sleep Tuesday night. I even went out on
Wednesday and bought a few extra tickets because of the damn dream! I must say,
it’s not the first time I’ve had that dream. Every time, it seems so real I
could smell the money on the pillow when I woke up in the morning!
Hahahahaaaaa……! Carole says that’s only the smell of my expensive after shave.
I didn’t know they made “Money Scented” after shave! Hey, that just might be a
good idea for a new product. Although, money has many different scents. I guess
it all depends which pocket you keep yours in! If you carry it in the rear of
your jeans it’ll likely smell like ………well, you know! If you carry it in the
front pocket you’ll wind up with groin scented bills and that ain’t so nice a
thought either! Might just be an indication that you’re badly in need of a
shower! Hahahahaa….! Whatever! I personally don’t care if it’s been dipped in
cow dung, I’ll take a load of it anytime. I just realized that I may be
sounding awfully desperate here but that’s not the case I assure you. It’s just
that I hear of so many other people winning those nice big Lotto prizes and it
kinda makes me a tad jealous. After all, I’ve been making tri-weekly donations
to that Lotto Corporation for about 25 years now and have yet to hit the big
one. Awww poor me I know!
Actually, Carole and I have
had a share of good fortune in the 6/49 “encore” part of the ticket. In 1993 we
had the last 5 numbers of the encore, which gave us a nice $5,000.00 cheque.
Then 51 weeks later, we did the same thing. Another $5,000.00 was ours just for
driving to Toronto for an afternoon. We decided to go down to the Lotto office
to pick the cheques up in person rather than trust the postal service. Besides,
we wanted to see what it felt like visiting the OLC for that purpose, picking
up some winnings. It was a great feeling! After we registered the win with the
OLC office, we were told it would take about a half hour to get the cheque ready.
There was a small variety store across the hallway from the office so we
decided to look around in there while we waited. As we browsed through the
magazine section we heard a couple tell the clerk that they had just won
$250,000.00 in the previous nights “encore” and were waiting for their cheque
to be made out. The winning number was 677522 and we had 777522. The guy said
“Yup, 677522 was the lucky number for us”! Somehow it didn’t even matter that
our cheque was that much less than the guy standing next to us, we were pretty
happy to have won as much as we did. It occurred to us that this guy had just
let everyone in the store know that he’d be walking out of the building with a
quarter of a million dollars in his pocket in just a short while. Not the wisest
bit of info to broadcast in a public place. I said to Carole that at least if
anyone was going to get jumped for their cheque on the way out, it wouldn’t be
us! LOL! The fellow in the Lotto office that presented us with the cheque the
second time asked if we wanted to see some statistics. We said sure and
followed him into a room filled with files. He opened a thick book on the desk
and showed us a list of winners names and the amounts they had won.
He said that these statistics showed that 86% of the people that had won the top 6/49 prize money over the history of the lotto had won one or two significant amounts before winning the BIG prize. He said that if these statistics were true, that we were in line for a third and hopefully TOP PRIZE win. Well, I’ve never been one to argue with statistics so right there and then I knew I’d win the BIGGIE someday. Well, here we are 10 years + later and still no BIG prize. I can’t help but wonder, especially after Doug’s revelation about the bursting hydraulic line, if my constant dreams that seem so real are an actual view into the near future for Carole and I! Hmmmmmmmm……I guess only time will tell! Ewan seems to think that our thoughts of impending happenings are an influence on reality, let’s hope he’s right and this recurring dream of mine comes true. I only ask that if it’s going to happen, please let it happen while I’m still young enough to enjoy it. I’m sure I’ll have little use for all that money when I’m 94 and on my way out of this world. I think 55 and in my prime would be a much better and more sensible time to come into such a win fall. Maybe then we could take that trip to Bridgeport that we’ve always wanted. Just kidding! We all know what we think we’d do if we ever came into such an amount but I’m sure nobody really knows for sure until it happens. In the mean time I’ll just have to keep on making those donations and hope that sometime soon my numbers will come up!
Thanks for tuning in again this week and sharing my dreams. I’ll certainly let you all know if they ever come true!
Until next week…….take care.
Money isn’t what makes it all worthwhile.
An aim in life is the only fortune worth finding!
Ya Sure!!!!!! Like I really believe that! LOL!
****
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the
doug
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