The Squamidian Report – Feb. 23 / 19
Issue #874
Including:
From Russ
From Lorne
The Ontarion
Hi All,
Most weeks, when I sit down at the computer to compose my section of
this letter, it comes fairly easily. At least once I get started. The
topic clicks in and I somehow manage to come up with enough content to
fill my column. But not every week. This weeks is one of those times
when ideas are sparse and nothing seems to flow. No adventures, no
unexpected happenings. The creative bucket is dry. Don’t know why but
thats how it is. So, I’ll just touch on a few local issues and leave it
at that. Besides, the other contributions are always interesting and
this week in no exception. Which reminds me, where is everyone else
these days? That ‘everyone’ who is supposed to be contributing once in
a while…..
Moving on, local point of interest….. The west coast is enjoying the
coldest February on record (records keeping only started in 1937 here
so its rather relative) and there is no change in sight until at least
mid March. It hasn’t been all that snowy but it sure has been cold.
Even right out at the shoreline along the ocean its been breaking
records. A month ago it looked and felt like spring. Even had to put up
with early pollen. Then February happened and bang, winter, big time.
By this time most years I’d be thinking about putting the bike back on
the road. Not this year. I haven’t even bothered to peak under the
bike’s cover and probably won’t be doing so for a while. A long, cold
while. Bummer.
And then there’s this. It may have even made the news in other parts of
the country for all I know. We had a case where an RCMP officer pulled
over a suspicious vehicle that was speeding. The cop decided to have
his police dog check the vehicle, said dog being trained to sniff out
drugs. The dog did indeed detect drugs and was supposed to indicate
that fact by sitting. However, when the dog went to sit it’s back end
hit the guard rail at the side of the road and that startled the dog,
said dog immediately stood back up. The cop had seen the attempted sit
and took that as an indication that there was reasonable cause that the
vehicle should be searched, which he did. He found 35,000 fentinal (not
sure of the spelling) pills hidden in the car. Obviously he arrested
the driver who then confessed to trafficking.
Then the lawyers got involved and convinced the judge that the dog had
not executed a ‘proper drug indication sit’ and would you believe, the
judge agreed and threw the case out. All charges dropped. Here we are
dealing with epic drug problems on our streets and some brain dead
judge deems that an interrupted ‘sit’ constitutes a bungled search by
the cop. Needless to say, everyone is outraged. Well, everyone except
the drug runner and his lawyer. One can certainly understand how cops
end up frustrated by the very system they are trying to serve. Its not
a job I could ever do.
doug
****
From Russ
Poker, Grease, and a Goose
This is another story about a story.
The need to be accepted is very strong in most social animals. This
true story will tell you to what lengths I went just to be accepted
into the ‘Traveling Poker Club’. Membership was free, but
admission was restricted to; cigar-smoking, beer-drinking, seasoned
cops, who would host a game. I qualified.
At this time, my family was living at 224 King Street, South, Waterloo.
Ours was a big, old house with large rooms and we held large parties,
so having a couple dozen cops in for a poker game and steak fry was no
problem for even my ‘fussy’ wife. My boys were both in High School and
would be out on dates, or something, and would not be home until late.
Here’s how generous I was; besides hosting, I would provide the beer; I
would provide the T-bone steaks; I would provide the winner of the
poker game with a live, large, white goose in a crate.....all FREE!
The goose was raised from childhood by my Brother, Lorne who also built the crate. (Did I ever pay you for that?)
The T-bone steaks were purchased from my favourite Uncle, Willard Poll.
He sure knew his meat! The steaks were extra large, delicious, and
fork-tender! Because Willard was a Mason, my favourite Uncle, and the
steaks were for a “good cause” i.e. feeding cops, I was expecting to
get a discount. No way! Twenty-four T-bone steaks was a big order, and
cost me a fortune! (I never told my wife they cost us a week’s pay!)
The plan for the evening went like this; poker would continue until all
the players were broke and a winner declared, followed by the
presentation of the prize (which was a well-kept secret). The winner
was John Hock, Traffic Officer. Nice guy. Now deceased. Then I
would start taking orders for their steaks, and how they’d like them
prepared. They had only two choices; fried or broiled, but I could
accommodate their wishes as to rare, medium, or well-done.
Suddenly everyone was hungry and demanding, they wanted to
“get at them steaks NOW!”
Picture this; twenty-four loud, hungry, unruly, over-weight, half
stewed cops, crowded into the kitchen, ordering how they wanted their
steaks done!
“Make mine rare. Just knock the horns off!”
“Mine well-done.....but not burnt!”
“Rare”. Somebody shouted.
“Medium rare!”
“Fried...NOT broiled!”
“That mine?”
Somebody call the cops...we got a near riot here!
I needed lots of help. Only one guy volunteered. You may recall reading
in last week’s Squamidian where I talked about escorting a mental
patient to The Ontario Hospital in London, and crazy Bob tried to have
ME admitted, well the same Bob started right in to help me. I was
grateful for his help. But THAT was a mistake! I was handling four fry
pans on the top burners, Bob would look after the broiler.
The kitchen filled with smoke. My wife, who’d been hiding upstairs thought the kitchen was on fire.
“Shall I call the Fire Department?” she cried.
“No, we’ll just open the door and let the smoke clear” I shout.
“Where do you want me to dump the grease?” Crazy Bob shouts over the noise and confusion.
“Anyplace but down the sink” I cautioned.
“Too late” said Bob “but it’s hot grease....won’t cause any problems”
says Bob as he dumps the grease-filled broiler pan down the sink.
“You should NEVER pour grease down the sink”, advised the plumber next morning.
Then, he made out his bill.
Plumbing is a well-paid Trade.
I have only two regrets; I played only one hand of poker that night,
lost $20 and never played poker again; and paying the plumber for the
actions of crazy Bob.
R.G.Brubacher, Constable #20 KPD
PS I’m now “in the loop”
****
From Lorne
Things keep happening. This time a happening to my leased
vehicle. Upon turning it back in at the end of the lease, a close
examination will be done to reveal any wear or damage. Well this
one has had it's share. First off was the large falling tree limb
denting a door. Then all the insulation under the hood eaten by
rodents. The most recent during this ice winter, a head on collision.
Fortunately no one was injured except my wallet which may have
something to do with future inheritances. In fact no one was in my car
and it was standing innocently still in my driveway. I was on my
tractor, blowing ice and snow when the crash occurred into the front
end. The brakes were not stopping me on that slippery surface, we
collided at about 1/2 mile per hour. Still enough to necessitate
replacing the plate holder and left a small dent as well. Considering
it a personal thing and on private property, police were not
called.
Lorne
****
THE ONTARION REPORT
Tonight I sit here totally ashamed of myself for what just happened in
our kitchen. I have been restricted to a very tight diet for the past
year and four months and know in my mind that if I don’t stick to it
religiously I stand a good chance of losing not only my health but my
life itself! Before coming up to write my Ontarion I told Carole that I
was going to pour myself a tea and head up to the office to write my
column. I went into the kitchen and poured myself that tea but very
quietly decided to make myself a peanut butter and jam sandwich. Which
I knew was totally off my diet and over my allowed amount of food for
the daily schedule that I’m supposed to stick to! I made the sandwich
and put my tea into the microwave to reheat it. When I heard Carole
coming out of the family room and heading toward the kitchen I placed
the sandwich behind the teapot on the counter so she wouldn’t catch me
at my mischievous deed. Of course I had a sheepish look on my face and
Carole had no doubt I’d made something to eat that I should not have
and confronted me with my foolish deed. She pointed out that I was only
killing myself if I was to go through with my sneaky act. I not only
let myself down but indeed I did what amounted to mistrust to Carole by
sneaking food that I am not allowed to have!
I admitted to making and hiding the sandwich on her like a foolish
young child and felt very much ashamed of what I’d done and been caught
at. She in no uncertain terms shamed me for my cheating act and I’ve
never felt so foolish as I did at that moment. I want to take this
opportunity to whole-heartedly apologize to her for being so foolish
and ask that she forgive me! She’s right indeed to point out that I was
not only hurting myself but hurting her as well by not being truthful
with her about my dishonest deed! I promise that I will not repeat such
an act again as I feel like a child that got caught with his hand in
the cookie jar. I not only am hurting from what I’ve done but I also
hate myself for breaking her trust in such a foolish manner! Please
forgive me Carole and I hope you will believe me when I say this is the
last time you’ll have to worry about my committing such a distrustful
act. I’m sorry for breaking your trust and will not repeat it again!
My admission of this shameful act is all I have to say for this week’s Ontarion.
I’ll talk to you all again next week in the Ontarion.
Bye for now … Greg
PS: Something To Think About>
I’m totally ashamed of myself and will have this on my mind for a long time to come!
****
Have a good one..
the doug
The Fine Print!
The articles in these issues are the sole property of the persons writing them and should be respected as such.
|