In My Own Words

Money Can't Buy Happiness

2012-02-07T11:30:00.000-06:00

I've been spending a lot of time in the bathroom lately. A friend of ours gave me a book for my birthday entitled "Uncle John's 24 Karat Gold Bathroom Reader" and so being a man of integrity I've been reading it only in the bathroom. How would it look if I were actually caught reading it in the living room? Or the kitchen? I've learned about a lot of things and some of the things are downright strange. I've learned the scientific name of the butterfly genus, something I either never learned in high school biology or I'd forgotten. I've learned how to make a potato powered clock just in case I'm out in some potato field one day and need to know the time. I've also learned that Alan Newbold holds the record for eating 150 prunes in thirty-one seconds. I presume he also holds another record that occurred just minutes after he achieved his first. I'm prepared for any conversation now, after reading this book should the topic turn to starfish, weird names of boats or how to get a cat down out of a tree without using a gun.

Here's an example of a little known fact that I found very interesting. In 1947, Margaret Wise Brown's book called "Goodnight Moon" was published. It wasn't very popular and sales were slow. Brown figured this book would never make it big nor would she ever get rich from it. In those days the book sold for $1.75 and after making about $500 over the course of a year sales plummeted. In 1948, in her Will, Margaret Brown decided she'd leave the royalties to the book, "Goodnight Moon" to her neighbour's middle son, Albert Clarke, who had been a good help to her around her place. He carried wood for her, trimmed her hedges and raked leaves. Eventually Brown thought, Albert would have enough money to buy a new bike or perhaps roller skates when he was old enough to use them. Ironically in 1952, the forty-two year old Margaret Wise Brown died suddenly of a coronary embolism while on a book tour in Paris. Her Will was finally settled in 1959. Suddenly this magical children's book began to catch on with parents and by the time Albert was thirteen he was informed his bank account had grown to $134,000 and was continuing to grow. By 1990 the sales of "Goodnight Moon" reached four million books.

Now, everyone would assume that Albert Clarke would be a rich and happy soul but not so. When a writer from the Wall Street Journal tracked him down in 2000 he learned Clarke had led a life of squandered millions, murderous fistfights, domestic violence, broken marriages, lost custody of several children, loss of numerous homes and estates, vagrancy, debt, drug abuse, trespassing, grand larceny and criminal intent to commit murder. Clarke had become so disillusioned that he actually now believed that Margaret Wise Brown was his real mother.

Today, Clarke still receives a cheque every six months for approximately $342,000. Because of extensions to the United States copyright laws Clarke will continue to receive royalties from "Goodnight Moon," one of the most successful children's books of all time, until 2043. It goes to prove money can't buy happiness?

In the meantime, I can only wish someone would leave me royalties in their Will but while I'm waiting I'll just continue to sit here in the bathroom and read. You just never know what else I'll learn from good old Uncle John.

Footnote: This book has many more interesting things in it than just the words. For instance on each page, the clock moves ahead, mice appear somewhere on every page scurrying and hiding in the room, and things appear and disappear off the dresser. It's things you discover the more you read this book or if you take a Children's Literature course at university like I did and are told all these things. Until I took the course (with Professor Perry Nodelman at the University of Winnipeg) it was just another book that I read to my boys at bedtime. Now, knowing this about Albert Clarke, I'd think twice about buying the book when poor Margaret Wise Brown doesn't get a cent. Uncle John's Bathroom Reader has sort of killed the illusion.

Car Shopping....After All These Years, It's Not Any Easier!

2012-02-01T16:47:00.000-06:00

"So you've decided after 15 years, you want to buy a car instead of leasing," the salesman said. "Give me some options," I replied. And he did. As it turned out I knew what I wanted to buy, he just had to make me a sweet deal. Taking me out for a test drive before I even knew the vehicle's price was a sneaky tactic and I told him so. Of course, do we drive a plain vehicle with the bare necessities? Oh, no! He pulls up to the door in a vehicle that only Brad Pitt could afford and it was even in the colour I wanted. Red.

Out for the test drive we go. He drives first while he explains the the heated side mirrors with blindspot submirrors, the on dash navigation system, bluetooth, backup camera, the anti-roll system (like it's going to stop me if I tip over) and a myriad of other things like engine size, mileage ratio, trunk space, cruise control, airbags and best of all tilt steering. My current leased 2008 Malibu LS has tilt steering that barely tilts. I've scraped my legs getting in and out for the past four years because I didn't test drive it at the previous dealership. What a fool was I? So this new vehicle has tilt steering that practically puts the wheel through the windshield. Ah, comfort getting in and out without ruining another pair of dress pants. When we reached the park on our drive, Jim, the salesman, decided to show me the great traction the Equinox has in snow so we rip around and do wheelies in the parking lot. Around and around and around and then through a snow bank and around and around some more and I'm grabbing for the window handle to roll down the window to throw up but of course, they're electric. Jim scraped me off the floorboards when we stopped! I used to do that with my father's car when I was sixteen but not at my age when equilibrium is comprimised.

I drove back to the dealership, nervous, and extra cautious like every other slow driving senior on the streets that day. It handled like a car, soundproof like my Malibu and already it's capturing my heart. I want this Equinox. Brad Pitt get out your wallet! Now came the paper work. I didn't want to spend more than $30 a month more than I was paying for my lease per month. I have a budget, afterall, I'm a senior on a fixed income. He could only give me this vehicle for $120 a month more than my lease and no better. "I'll go back to my previous dealership," I said. "Let me see what the big boss says." Jim replies. I sat and waited looking out the window at the red Equinox parked there crying out my name and begging to be taken home. Jim returned with the best deal he could possibly give me. I'll give it to you for the crazy crazy price of $75 more than your lease right now." "That's a crazy deal, Jim, but I'm walking," I replied. My lease wasn't up until the end of February so I had lots of time and besides there would be other deals. "Oh, we want to keep you with our dealership as a valued customer," shot back Jim. "Good get the deal down lower and I'll be happy." Again I was left alone while Jim went somewhere into the caverns of the glass and chrome divided rooms like the castle in the Wizard of Oz. The Wizard said, the best we can do is $428." The Wizard must have been irked at me by now but I left and went home.

Five days later I returned. "Let's make a deal," Jim said to me as I walked in the door. "I have the deal I want, you just have to agree to it," I said. As it turned out they said they'd give it to me for slightly over my budget and they'd throw in the comfort package (heated seats, remote start) worth $1250 at no extra cost to me. Yeah, right, they aren't losing any money on this Equinox whether they give me the command start and the heated seats or not. I figured I wouldn't do any better than that after phoning around to other dealerships on the weekend. I wanted the Equinox LT in red. I've had grey cars, silver cars, brown cars, blue cars, two red cars, white cars and now I wanted red again.

Wouldn't you know the only red one on the lot was sold on Saturday without the comfort package. I had to settle for my second colour choice, black. I don't spend a lot of time washing and polishing my vehicles so with a black Equinox, it's going to be gray most of the time anyway.

I hate haggling with salesmen. I've done it many times over the past forty years and I still hate it. My friend, David, loved that part of the hunt. I always phoned him to get his opinion on a car deal but this year I missed that since he passed away last July. He's probably up there looking down and shaking his head and saying, "Robbie, you could have done a lot better than that." Well, David, I was waiting for a sign and I didn't get one.

I won't do that again for another four or five years. By then I may just decide it;s time to take the bus everywhere. It's a lot cheaper and lot less hassle.

What Kind of Machine Did We Buy?

2012-01-31T11:59:00.000-06:00

BANG! The instruction booklet says our new washing machine would make noises we'd never heard with our old machine. I thought Lee Harvey Oswald was in the house sniping from our living room window. I was expecting different noises but gunshots wasn't one of them. Apparently the self locking lid sounds like that when it locks and in a quiet apartment it sounded worse than it was. The police didn't appear at my door nor did the neighbours come to see what the ruckus was all about so I let the machine continue doing it's thing.

Rowf rowf rowf rowf rowf then mmmrh mmmrh mmmrh mmmhr, hugga chugga tweet tweet hugga chugga tweet tweet hugga chugga tweet tweet. This is normal? I was sure there was something wrong with the machine. My wife was at work and she was no help. When I phoned to tell her that our new washing machine had a vocabulary all its own and could do dog and bird imitations she laughed hysterically. Sure, I'm the one here alone with the machine from Hell. What kind of a foreign product did we buy? All we wanted was a washing machine that would wash clothes not frighten the neighbours and set off our burglar alarms.

There were groans like the machine was in ecstasy and then there were heavy sighs in the midst of it all. Wheee ahhhh, wheeee ahhhh, wheeee ahhhh! I waited for the next sound. I didn't have to wait long.

The water discharged out of the tub and down the drain but it sounded differently, too. I ran for the flashlight to peer over the top and shine the light down the back to see if the hose was flooding the floor. No, things were okay there. Then it stopped and the rinse cycle started. Water gushed in and sounded like it was hitting the floor. Back with the flashlight to check out that noise and feel for water under the machine. None, thank God! Then there was a pause before the spin cycle started. "Pilot to co-pilot, start right jet engine!" With a low whine that built to a loud jet spinning turbine sound I expected to see flight attendants in my living room pointing out the exit doors fore and aft. It brought back memories of my first flight on the Transair YS-11 jets out of Thompson. I grabbed the machine, half expecting it to walk itself into our living room with the tremendously fast spinning it was going through but it was solid as a rock. Relief! The neighbours downstairs hadn't banged on their ceiling so either they weren't home or they're deaf.

And then it stopped. The cycles were done. All was quiet until Lee Harvey Oswald showed up again and BANG another shot fired. The lid was unlocked and the light panel went dark. Wow, that only took forty minutes of worry, aggravation, fear and constant checking with my flashlight. The clothes were washed and I was exhausted. Paranoia takes a lot out of a person. It was time for a Scotch!

I washed a second load of clothes. Oswald had now downsized to a pistol and the dog and the birds had disappeared. The chugga chugga chugga was still there during the wash cycle but definitely not as loud as the very first time. The jet engine still starts up on the spin cycle but it's bearable. This is 2012, I shouldn't complain. It beats using a washboard and big square galvanized wash tubs.

Footnote: My mother taught me how to do laundry when I was at home and I can swing a bottle of bleach with the best of them. When it sounds like the water is draining on the floor or the machine is going to run around the apartment chasing me while it does its jet engine imitations then I worry. So far the machine works well and the noises have downsized to the equivalency of our bread maker. I'm just thankful I don't have to carry any more loads of laundry to Hop Sing's laundry in St. Vital.

It Could Have Been a Lot Worse

2012-01-24T10:27:00.000-06:00

Honestly, some days I should just stay in bed! I had no intention of going out since it was cold and I really didn’t need to do any errands. They could wait another day or two. Retired life means no schedules but by noon I was beginning to feel cooped up and figured I’d get some fresh air by getting some things that had been on our grocery list for the past several days.

I stopped into look at several stores down the street and then across to Kenaston to my favourite grocery store. It was going to be something different for supper besides chicken. We always have chicken. With the groceries packed in the trunk so they wouldn’t slide around when I made turns I decided to take the long way home. It was cold and crisp and sunny and the afternoon traffic was light so I decided to take the scenic route.

I stepped on the brakes as I approached the intersection's stop sign.
This is where it all gets blurry. The car seemed to take on a mind all its own. I knew for sure I didn’t have any control at that point. The world seemed to be going around in circles. Oh wait, it was the car going in circles as I spun out of control. It’s amazing how slow life travels as you sit behind the wheel of a spinning car watching helplessly as you take a nose dive into the snowbank on the opposite curb facing the direction in which you’d come. As the car spun, rode up on the curb and plowed through the snow like a driverless bulldozer I noticed the huge elm tree coming up to greet my passenger door. Funny what your mind thinks as you see the tree and wait for the unsettling crunch of tree into door metal. I waited but it never came. The car stopped less than a foot from the tree trunk. There I sat hung up on a mountain of snow.

Who carries a shovel when you drive in the city? Not me! I got out to look at the damage and to determine if there was any hope of getting myself out without calling the Motor League to tow me back down Mount Everest. Not a chance! The passenger side was up to the door handles in deep snow and the front end was hardly visible. When the Motor League towed me out the driver and I picked up pieces of frozen plastic and fibre glass from all over the snow bank. “I guess there’s not much chance these aren't mine?” I asked. “Not much chance,” laughed the driver. Sure, he could laugh! It was then he noticed my flat front tire. It flattened when I hit the curb which meant clean out the trunk to drag out the spare tire. The groceries had scattered all over the trunk.

Fortunately a little spin on the ice didn’t hurt anyone. Though there weren’t any other cars around it ended up costing me over $1600. Manitoba Public Insurance considers it a single vehicle accident to which they add $200 onto my driver’s licence next year. Guess what arrived by mail the very next day? My car insurance renewal arrived telling me; ironically, I’m in the top percentile for safe driving since I haven’t had an accident in the past fourteen years. I guess I shouldn’t complain. Nobody was hurt, the car can be repaired and nobody had to chop down an elm tree.

Footnote: This actually happened two years ago in February 2010. I didn't want to repair my car until the winter was over in fear of having another accident. You know how you get paranoid after an accident. So I drove the car like this until March of 2011. I figured if one winter without any further accidents was good, two should be better. If it gets me from point A to point B without the bumper falling off or the grill shaking lose, then, what more do I need?

Questo ristorante e meraviglioso!

2012-01-22T01:09:00.000-06:00

[Ha avuto luogo in quattro anni da quando abbiamo avuti pranzo a Restaureant ed al salotto del Bellissimo. La decorazione è cambiato e la disposizione dei posti a sedere è stato riorganizzato ma thankfully, l'alimento è rimasto stessa alta qualità che ci ricordiamo di dagli anni fa.]

It's been over four years since we had dinner at Bellissimo's Restaurant and Lounge. The decor has changed and the seating has been rearranged but thankfully, the food has remained the same high quality we remember from years ago.

Saturday night our Ethnic Dinner group returned to Bellissimos for an Italian dinner experience. We were not disappointed. Two of the three couples had never been there before so it was truly an experience for them. The waitress who seated us and looked after us for the evening was excellent. The service was high quality. One other waitress kept returning to fill our water glasses almost as soon as we took a sip and we got to joking with her. Both servers were friendly, outgoing and a pleasure to have looking after us.

The meal started off with fresh warm rolls and two trays of dipping sauce which didn't last long at our table. This was followed by some of our friends having the potato soup and others having the Caesar salad. Of the two who had the potato soup one liked it very much while the other wasn't as keen on it. It wasn't the true potato soup we are accustomed to but rather a thick sweet potato with a touch of squash added to it. It came steaming hot and it looked delicious. I had chosen the Caesar salad. Whomever made the Caesar salad must have miscounted when they were adding crushed garlic to the bowl because there was enough garlic to make our eyes water and our noses run. It really jolted the palate on first bite and proceeded to get stronger the more salad we ate. I love Caesar salad but I don't like the garlic to overpower everything else nor do I like the anchovie taste to be too prominent. Between the garlic and the fish taste it was hard to get the flavours of the greens. It was not my favourie salad tonight.

Everyone ordered something different, from Veal Parmagiana, to Gnocchi, to Veal medallions, and cannelonni etc. Everyone was extremely pleased with their meal and with the portions. All the meals came steaming hot on hot (not warm) plates and the portions were large enough that I couldn't even finish mine and that's a rare occurence. Exceptional food!

The servers were prompt, courteous and helpful with any questions we had. The meals were of the highest quality and the portions were very generous. The Caesar salads were the downfall of this restaurant. We even mentioned their overpowering garlic to the waitress and she said she'd mention it to the chef. Mention it or not, we all finished our salads regardless. Did we have a right to complain then?

For Caesar salad, rolls, a glass of chardonnay house wine and veal parmagiana for myself, house salad, rolls, a glass of white house wine and gnocci with marinara sauce for my wife plus our tip the meal came to $80.00. I would give Bellissimo's (#1-877 Waverley Street Phone: 204-489-0495) a rating of 4.5 stars. Tone down the garlic and the anchovies and everything will be right with the world.

Bring It On!

2012-01-17T10:38:00.000-06:00

Horoscopes are published in the Free Press everyday but I never read them. I don't have much faith in someone telling me and a million others what my life will be like for that day. How can someone foresee all that? Then along comes the year-end edition of the Free Press horoscopes published for the entire year and I read mine diligently all the way through. Does that make any sense?

I'm a Sagittarius and for some unknown reason the year-end horoscopes just hook me. Maybe it's because I want to know what someone thinks will happen to me and then I have a benchmark when the year is finished to know whether the horoscope was actually close or not. Or maybe it's a once-a-year hope that just maybe everything in my life will go smoothly for a change.

Granted, horoscopes are very generic. Of course it's going to say I'm philosophical, a teacher, someone who likes to give of oneself and likes to travel. That's all true. It also said I often work with animals in my job. Well, that's so far from the truth it's laughable. It said that around 2000 to 2001 partnerships and love interests were tested and not all passed the test. Yes, I'd dated for several months prior to meeting my current wife and unbeknownst to me my children didn't like the woman. When I announced we had broken up my family celebrated. Oh, I thought she was the one but nobody said anything to old Dad! Thankfully, I gained back their respect when I met and married Judy, who they love and adore.

This is the best time in my life for love affairs, romance and flirtatious escapes or so my horoscope read. Oh yeah? This will be quite a problem especially since I'm happily married and have no idea even how to be flirtatious. As for a love affair, I have all I can handle right now, thank you very much.

Sagittarians born in November might experience surprise pregnancies. Thank God, I'm a December Sagittarian is all I can say. I guess that's what can happen if I give in to testing romance, love affairs and the flirtatious escapes. The paper also said I'll get a better job this year. That's interesting since I don't have one now unless you count volunteering. It also said I will get a substantial pay raise. That sounds great but as a volunteer they can give me a 125% pay raise but 125% of nothing is still nothing. It also said by the end of the year a relationship with someone older, richer and more experienced will benefit me. Damn, there's that relationship thread again! I guess I better start flirting afterall and start looking forward to having an affair with someone older and richer. Can someone introduce me to Doris Day since my chances with Elizabeth Taylor have pretty much turned to dust?

Finally, my horoscope said by 2019 I'll be attracting important people and opportunities. I'll be seventy-one by then and how much attracting am I going to want to do? As it stands right now the only ones I'm attracting are salesmen wanting to sell me future placement in retirement homes and prepaid plots in cemeteries. So, be it as it may, I figure 2012 is going to be a year of living an adventurous life, keeping in touch with my family and friends while having a little romance and an affair or two on the side. Bring it on! Bring it on!

Footnote: I realize horocopes are all there just to give us food for thought. Food for thought is the best kind of food because at this time of year we all know we need to cut back on calories.

My Choice for the Top Ten News Stories of 2011

2012-01-12T17:33:00.000-06:00

Each year at this time I like to put together my top ten news events of the past year. Take time to look at my selection and add a comment or E-mail me (grobb1@shaw.ca) with ideas of your own. What did I miss out that you think was important or what did I include that you thought was insignificant? I did not put my list in order of any importance but here's my list... agree or disagree?

1. Japan Earthquake and Tsunami
A 9.0 magnitude undersea earthquake occurred on March 11, 2011 in the Pacific Ocean causing much damage through a tsunami that struck the island of Honshu Japan.
2. The Royal Wedding

Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, married Catherine Middleton on April 29, 2011 at Westminster Abbey in London, England. William is the eldest son of Pricne Charles and the late Princess Diana. The wedding was followed by their first Royal Tour as a married couple in July to Canada.

3. Osama Bin Laden Killed

Osama bin Laden, mastermind behnd the attacks on the USA Embassy in 1998 and on the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon on September 11, 2001. Bin Laden was listed as number one on the World's Most Wanted Terrorist list with a $25 million bounty posted on him by the FBI. On May 2, 2011 Bin Laden was shot and killed by USA Navy Seals inside his private residential compound in Abbotabad, Pakistan. On May 6 after acknowledging his death, Al Qaeda promised to retaliate.

4. Libya Uprising and death of Muammar Ghadafi

On 17 February 2011, major political protests began in Libya against Gaddafi's government. During the following week these protests gained significant momentum and size, despite stiff resistance from the Gaddafi government. By late February the country appeared to be rapidly descending into chaos, and the government lost control of most of Eastern Libya. Gaddafi fought back, accusing the rebels of being "drugged" and linked to al-Qaeda. The uprising led to the death of Libyan leader Muammar Ghadafi.

5. Royal Visit to Canada

The 2011 royal tour of Canada by Prince William, Duke of Cambridge and Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge took place beween June 30 and July 8, 2011. They toured Ottawa, Charlottetown, Quebec, Calgary and Northern Canada with an unexpected stop at Slave Lake to meet with survivors of the wildfire that destroyed a third of their town.

6. Arab Spring: Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak Resigns

The Arab Spring otherwise known as the Arab Awakening actually began on December 10, 2010 but culminated in the spring of 2011 with the resignation of Egyptian President Mubarak. Many demonstrations met violent responses from authorities as well as from pro-government militias and counter-demonstrators.

7. 76 People Killed In Terrorist Attacks in Norway

The 2011 Norway attacks were two sequential terrorist attacks against the government, the civilian population and a summer camp in Norway on 22 July 2011. A car bomb explosion in Oslo, Norway killed eight people and wounded many others. The second attack less than two hours later at a summer camp on the island of Utoya where a gunman open fired on a crowd of campers and killed 69 people. Anders Behring Breivik, a 32 year old Norwegian extremist was charged with both attacks.

8. Death of Jack Layton

John Gilbert "Jack" Layton, (July 18, 1950 – August 22, 2011) leader of the New Democratic Party and official opposition leader in the Canadian government from 2003 to 2011 died of cancer. In the 2011 election, Layton led the NDP to the most successful result in the party's history. It is ironic that Layton would gain all this success and then not live long enough to enjoy the fruits of his hard work. He was given a State Funeral in Ottawa and Toronto.

9. The Seriousness of the Economy in Europe

From late 2009, fears of the sovereign debt crisis developed amonst European countries, Italy, Greece and Spain to be specific. The financial crisis actually began in the U.S. and in countries that imitated the problematic lending practices of the U.S., such as Iceland and Ireland. The two phenomena have become linked because many European banks held assets in financially troubled American banks, and because the need to bail out troubled banks has worsened the budget deficit for governments. This whole crisis will likely plague Europe and most of the financial world, including Canada, well into 2012.

10. Vancouver Riots After the Stanley Cup Finals

The 2011 Vancouver Stanley Cup riot was a public disturbance that broke out in downtown Vancouver on Wednesday, June 15, 2011 immediately after the seventh game of the NHL Stanley Cup Championship game where Boston won over Vancouver.

At least 140 people were reported as injured during the incident, one critically; at least four people were stabbed, nine police officers were injured, and 101 people were arrested that night, with 16 further arrests following the event. Further arrests were still being made at the end of 2011.

And Of Course - One Extra Important Event for Hockey Lovers:

The event that probably surpassed all other news events of 2011 for those living in Winnipeg was the return of the Winnipeg Jets to the NHL. As early at October 2009 rumours were flying that Winnipeg was purchasing the Atlanta Thrashers and moving them to Winnipeg. By May 28, 2011 multiple reports had confirmed the deal to purchase and move the Thrashers to Winnipeg was a done deal and all that was left was to officially annound the relocation. On May 31, 2011, Gary Bettman, NHL Commissioner confirmed the Atlantic Thrashers had been purchased by True North and would relocate to Winnipeg for the 2011-2012 season. The city went wild and we were back in the big leagues. The Winnipeg Jets have returned and we are happy and proud to have them back!

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Renos - Don't Do It!

2012-01-10T10:11:00.000-06:00

If anyone mentions the word renovations to me I've got three words for them. "Don't do it!" We'd been in the midst of renovations since the first week of April and I couldn't see the end of the tunnel. Hell, I couldn't see to the end of the living room. My wife packed up the things in the kitchen and moved them into our living room out of the way so the contractor could tear down two walls and give us an open concept kitchen. The living room was stacked with boxes half way to the ceiling. Each box was packed so well we could have shipped the entire bunch of them to Afghanistan without any breakage. We had all our living room furniture stacked, our lamps covered and moved and our furniture was covered with drawers of silverware, pots and pans, dishes and plastic containers I didn't even know we had.

For months step ladders leaned against walls, plastic covered the lamps, tool boxes were everywhere, spare boards and samples of tiles, displaced plants, end tables on top of end tables, large wall pictures covered in plastic and stored against walls added to the mess. Meanwhile, the central vacuum hose coiled its way through the living area like a python laying in wait for its unsuspecting prey. For most of the time the renovation was ongoing there was only one path from the front door through the dining room and living room to our sunroom. We spent most of our time in the sunroom where there was actually sitting space away from the upheaval, congestion and dust of construction. The plumber, the electrician, the countertop installers, the tilers, all first time visitors to our home asked if we'd just moved in. On telling them we'd lived here for four years the look on their faces all changed the same way as if they were thinking, "My God, these people are hoarders! I've only seen conditions like this on television!"

While the cabinets were being replaced and we were waiting for the countertops to arrive we were without water in the kitchen for five weeks. I thought I was going to lose it and at times I did. Several times my wife told me to take a trip. "Go away for five or six weeks and things will be changed when you get back." The idea was tempting but I didn't go. The workmen needed me to supervise and help out. Who would bring them coffee while they slaved over hanging the pantry door or installed the new flooring?

While the light at the end of the tunnel grew a little brighter we had all our windows replaced so that added to the "hoarders" turmoil by displacing all the furniture in the sunroom. Once the windows were installed the trim needed painting. The walls looked bad so they needed painting and on to order new blinds. Now there was nowhere to sit in the sunroom either. That long trip was beginning to look better and better. Watching the sunroom television over boxes from fifty feet away while sitting at the dining room table was problematic.

Finally the renovations were finished and we slowly got our life back to some semblance of order. Occasionally my wife still urges me to take a long holiday but she'd kill me if I booked passage on a slow boat to China. I just need to chill out and relax by reading under that light I discovered at the end of the tunnel.

Footnote: It's been a strain on everyone, my wife (with my constant bitching and complaining about the mess), myself (with the length of time it took my wife to make decisions on countertops, backsplash, flooring, cupboard colour), the contractor (having to redo the ceiling because the potlights didn't meet our expectations and our little changes in plans along the way) and on the neighbours (for the noise and the urge from their wives to begin renovations in their own condo units). I would move first before I ever did anything this major again. My wife is already talking about major bathroom renovations and I've already been to the travel agent to see if there is some guru in the Himalayans that I can go to visit for six weeks who will help me understand a woman's need to renovate. [The pictures are before, during and after my mental breakdown.]

We Finally Killed Happy Birthday

2012-01-03T11:07:00.000-06:00

Birthdays have a way of sneaking up on us. As each birthday arrives most people typically celebrate the same way. Our custom, like most families, is to have cake, candles and ice cream. We dim the lights and bring forth the decorated cake alight with enough candles to set off the sprinkler and alarm systems while we sing the old familiar Happy Birthday always too slowly and usually off key. The honoured guest takes a minute to make a wish then blows out the candles. That’s what we’ve done for a million years and everyone, whether turning nine or ninety, knows the routine.

Last summer while we were in Dauphin we discovered a store that sold a new special kind of birthday candle. The candles were reasonably priced so we bought half a dozen for future parties. In November, our granddaughter turned six so this was the perfect time to use one of them.

The candle is shaped like a large yellow flower with its petals all curled inward to the centre. A wax plug in the centre needs to be lit with a long handled match since the directions warn to stand well back when lighting this candle. Flames from this wax plug in the centre shoot up into the air about two feet like a Roman candle. Suddenly amidst all the smoke the inwardly turned plastic petals automatically unfold to reveal eight lighted candles while the whole thing begins to slowly turn clockwise. It’s a pretty impressive birthday candle as long as you keep it away from anything flammable. The candles burn brightly as it turns, while music similar to a music box plays “Happy Birthday.” Everyone is awestruck and there’s lots of ooohs and ahhhhs. Then, as the candles burn down and begin to melt the thin plastic petals it’s time to make a wish and blow out the blaze before the fire department arrives.

Unfortunately, when we celebrated our granddaughter’s birthday in November the candle failed to play the birthday song. It didn’t really matter because we were all impressed with the whole idea that this candle did everything but burn down the house. A few weeks ago while the grandchildren were over, my wife decided she’d try another one of the dramatic candles for my birthday. We all stood around with our fire extinguishers. Again there wasn’t any music but the candle’s performance satisfied the little ones and we all went on to enjoy the cake.

About a half hour after everyone left to drive home we heard the faint tinny music box sound of “Happy Birthday.” My wife had thrown the whole thing in the garbage can since once it’s used that’s the end of it. We opened up the garbage bag and sure enough, the candle was playing that beloved birthday song, nonstop. Since we were going to bed we figured the only way to stop it would be to cut the wires. We did. The music stopped but sometime during the night the candle began playing “Happy Birthday” in the garbage can even louder than it had ever played for us before. Was there no stopping this demon made in China? It echoed in the garbage can like an angry bagpiper in an empty room.

Once again the scissors were brought out and more wires were cut. We finally killed Happy Birthday! The candle that wouldn’t die finally gave up and quit. Next year it’s back to just one old-fashioned regular candle and well wishes for a silent night.

Footnote: We have one of these candles left for our grandson's birthday in a few months, but we are going to make sure that all wires are cut immediately after we celebrate. I don't know what would have happened had we thrown our garbage down the garbage chute and the candle had continued to play for everyone who went to drop off their garbage in the basement room. And how long does it play if you don't cut the wires? There's something to be said about the old fashioned wax candle that does nothing but just stand there and burn....like a candle should.

Yes, I AM the Original Wedding Crasher

2011-12-27T17:33:00.000-06:00

During this Christmas week when the
newspaper office is closed I am posting an article
that was published a few years
before I started posting on my Blog. I
hope you enjoy my life as a wedding crasher.

The movie, the Wedding Crashers is now out on video and I plan to rent it. I haven’t seen it at the theatre but I can relate. I never really gave it much thought until a friend of mine said “Aren’t you the original wedding crasher?” With that simple statement a flood of memories converged on my poor tired post-Christmas mind.

Yes, I was the original wedding crasher but there wasn’t a name for it back in the early 1970’s. We were crazy young men out for a good time. My friend and I were both single at the time. During our spring break from teaching we had decided to take a trip to Saskatoon to visit relatives. We stayed in the Holiday House Hotel because my relatives owned the hotel and we thought we would get a great deal. We found out nothing is free and my relatives were cheap! Thirty-five dollars a night was a lot of money back then. We arrived at the hotel on a Saturday night and in the ballroom below our room was a large wedding in full swing. My friend and I had nothing planned so on his suggestion (I never instigated trouble; honest!) we decided to go down and join the wedding. We rushed next door to the Co-Op Market and bought a wedding card, and several packages of wedding gift wrap. Back in the room, we addressed the card to the “Newlyweds” and wrapped up one of the two matching bedside lamps. That was the time before every item in the hotel rooms were permanently secured to the furniture. Down we went to the noisy and crowded reception, card and beautifully wrapped gift in hand.

Once inside the reception we were greeted by a receptionist at the door. Both of us said we were friends of the bride. We offered our gift to the lady and immediately hit the bar. We kept a wary eye out for the bride and groom. If anyone asked us how we knew the happy couple we replied that we went to school together. Nobody bothered us. We danced with everyone! We partied! We danced some more! We told horrible stories about the bride and groom from when we knew them back in our school days. We had their friends laughing at the crazy things the newlyweds had done. Oh how we lied our way through that evening! My brazen friend even danced with the bride. Whatever was said during that dance forced us to make a quick exit but not before grabbing another drink and a handful of snacks. It was well after midnight when we returned to our room.

Later that night as the bride and groom opened their cards and gifts I wish I could have seen the look on their faces as they revealed the ugly rather outdated hotel lamp with the card signed simply, Earl and Bert.
Footnote: This was published in the Grandview Exponent in 2006. We never got billed for the missing lamp and soon after that the hotel was sold and torn down. Condominiums and a shopping plaza have gone up on the property. I'm certain the lamp never made it to the bride's home but probably ended up where it would do the most good....a dumpster somewhere. And so, it's back to regular articles next week, with the saga of the singing birthday candles.

"For Twenty-five Years They Became My Traditions..."

2011-12-20T15:42:00.001-06:00

I was married in November 1972 and of course up to that time I had always spent Christmas with my parents in Grandview. It was the traditional Christmas where we got together with my Aunt Lorna and Uncle Donald and other relatives who were in town for the holidays. Being an only child of older parents, it was like going home to visit the grandparents. To me, after a hectic four months of teaching it was a change from Thompson and a chance to chill out.

My late wife Marilyn was a city girl from a Polish family of five children. For her, Christmas Eve was a big celebration where everyone gathered at her parents for dinner. Other family members and even a few neighbours were invited so it wasn't uncommon for the house to be crammed with people, all laughing, talking, singing and toasting each other with Old Krupnik (a Polish honey vodka) while anticipating the big evening meal. The Polish tradition of having twelve meatless dishes was preceded by the breaking of a blessed communion wafer called the Oplatek. Everyone shared their Oplatek with each family member or guest who in turn shared it with another until everyone had been offered a Christmas greeting. It was a wonderful tradition and one that I miss to this day. It had its origins in religion but it was a cheerful way to share good wishes for the New Year.

The meal was traditionally served on a white tablecloth carefully spread over a bed of straw. I'm not sure the significance of the straw, other than it signified a good harvest and a promise for future prosperity and health. As years passed my wife's family omitted the straw but the wishes for prosperity and good health continued. Good-hearted joviality, high spirited camaraderie and gales of laughter were always a part of their family gathering.

Following the meal gifts were distributed and sometimes even Santa made a surprise stop to hand out candy canes and gifts to the youngest children. Christmas Eve was an exciting time and before anyone realized it, the hour was late. Late, not to go home to sleep before Santa caught us out of our beds and passed us by, but to bundle up and head off to midnight Mass. Approaching the church in the snow while hearing the carolling and the ringing bells always announced the spirit of the Season. Dozens of poinsettias caught our eye the minute we entered the church and the pungent smell of incense made our noses crinkle. Afterwards the children would be dragged home and tucked into bed so Santa could make one last stop before dawn caught him streaking across the sky.

Over time those were the traditions that I grew to know and love. However, being married in November I assumed it would be only natural to spend Christmas with my parents as usual, not because they demanded it, but because it was my tradition. It was also a good chance to introduce my bride to my family and friends. Marilyn never outwardly objected to the idea but as newlyweds who'd expect our first major argument would be about Christmas traditions? I didn't know how important her Christmas Eve traditions were to her and at that time I thought all Christmases were the same as mine. Oh, so not true!

Since we didn't own a car it was necessary to take the Greyhound to Grandview two days before Christmas. Marilyn hated the bus trip. Without our realizing it, she was experiencing morning sickness so her bus trip was spent trying not to throw up every half hour. It was not a fun trip. Our time at my parent's house was quiet. Too quiet! Mom and Dad visited with us and watched television while Marilyn did some knitting and I read. Visiting my parents was never a time of abounding excitement but it was about to get worse.

The next day; Christmas Eve, was a time when Marilyn's family would be celebrating, having their twelve meatless dishes, opening gifts and going to midnight Mass. Christmas Eve at my parent's house was more television, playing cards, more knitting, and a lot of crying. When Marilyn phoned home to wish her family a Merry Christmas she had to hold the receiver away from her ear as the celebrations at her house were deafening. At my house, Mom and Dad went to bed at 9:00 p.m. Marilyn cried. I watched television and read some more while Marilyn cried. The decision was made, we would leave Boxing Day.

Christmas Day was not much better. We had Christmas dinner at my Aunt Lorna's since it was her turn to host that year. Everyone tried to make Marilyn feel welcome but she felt anything but celebratory. She spent most of the day in tears while I was dumbfounded as to how to cope. Merry Friggin' Christmas, I thought!

The bus trip back to Winnipeg on Boxing Day was long and silent. It wasn't something that I wanted to repeat anytime soon. I suggested to Marilyn that in the future we'd alternate Christmases between my parents in Grandview one year and her parents in Winnipeg the next. Her response was simple, "Not going to happen!" The following year we invited my parents to Winnipeg to spend Christmas with us and their new grandson. Even though Dad, hated the city from the minute he stepped off the bus they managed to come to Winnipeg every year after to share the holidays with us and their grandsons. I was happy with their decision to spend Christmas at our house and Marilyn was delighted at never having to spend another Christmas away from her family.

The following year, 1973, was my first experience with a boisterous Polish Christmas. The noise, the laughter, the meatless dishes (What, no turkey?), the crowded house, the Polish vodka and the new and different traditions bewildered me. I never thought I'd ever get used to them. It was so different from my quiet Grandview Christmases. For twenty-five years they became my traditions and I loved them all. Even though we laughed about our first Christmas as a married couple we'd look forward to visiting Grandview at other times of the year. Winnipeg at Christmas was the best place for us.

Old traditions are the best but sometimes we've had to give in to change. We've done so many different things over the past few years I often wonder if we've maintained any traditions at all. One thing remains the same though, wishing my readers a Merry Christmas and a happy healthy and prosperous New Year.

Footnote: Traditions in our house have changed once again. It seems to go differently each year and that is all right with us. We are very happy to be able to celebrate Christmas with family and friends wherever and whenever we can. I'd like to forget the gifts and all the fuss made over Christmas and just be able to enjoy the company of our loved ones. As we get older, things that we took for granted fifty years ago have become front and centre in our lives and the most important is friendship. To all my readers, it's been a privilege writing for you. To our friends in the West Wing I wish you a great 2012 and to those of you heading south for warmer climes for a few months, safe journeys and good health.

A Letter to Santa

2011-12-20T15:40:00.000-06:00

Dear Santa,

Oh, I’ve tried to be good this year but it’s not been easy. Santa, I find myself becoming more impatient as I grow older so maybe a box of it under our tree would help this year. Grant me the strength to keep my hand off the horn when I drive up behind someone who has come to a complete stop while merging onto a major thoroughfare. Help me control the urge to knock over the little old person who stops at the top of the escalator to check her bill while forty of us pile up behind her. Give me the patience to accept people for whom they are and not get stressed out because they don’t see things my way. Give me some tolerance to deal with crowded parking lots, people who answer cell phones in theatres, and little old ladies in grocery stores who decide to dig for every last penny in their change purse while I and fifteen others wait behind them. On second thought Santa, the large economy size of patience might be best.

Santa, I’ve discovered someone has broken into our condo this year and shrunk my clothes. I’d like you to bring me a burglar alarm to keep the culprit at bay. No, I haven’t gained any weight but my wife complains that her arms are somehow shorter when she hugs me. If you have any room in your sleigh I’d like you to bring me several gift cards for those big and swanky exclusive men’s clothing stores.

With my volunteering, my condo Board work, our family commitments, my wife’s “to do lists” and all the other things that keep me busy I need more time. Is it possible for you, dear Santa, to add about five extra hours to each day so I can get all my chores accomplished? Sometimes the faster I go the “behinder” I get. I know old age tends to slow us down but look at you, Santa. You can get around the world in one single night while I can barely make it through Costco. Finding a parking spot then walking half a kilometre from my car to the store exhausts me. I can hardly stay awake long enough to drive home with my $600 worth of items considering I went shopping with the intention of buying only one package of paper towels and a case of Diet Coke.

Like I said, Santa, I’ve tried to be good this year so I’ve prepared a list just in case you agree with me. I hope you can bring everything this year because you sure failed to follow my list in 2010. Were your Elves on strike last year because I’m still waiting for hair? For starters, I’d like a new bathroom mirror; one that shows me and not some old wrinkled dude. There are days when it’s downright scary to stand at the mirror and see that old codger staring back at me. When did he sneak into my bathroom? I’d also like a physique. I lost mine about forty years ago while I was striving to obtain buns of steel. Instead I discovered buns of cinnamon and my physique disappeared. So before it’s too late, a shape besides round would be nice.

I know it’s short notice Santa, but I’m not asking for much. If you can’t bring everything I’ve asked for just bring the most important thing...acceptance for the things I cannot change along with a small dash of youthfulness.

Love,

Garwood
Footnote: Santa has been good to me over the years but I really do think that I'm asking for more than he can deliver. I guess there's a few things I can do; proportion out my days a little better, take it easy when driving up the on-ramps, give up wishing for a youthful body and just accept the inevitable. I should be thankful for what I have when so many others have so little. And to end off the year 2011, I'd like to thank all of you who have taken a minute out of your day to read "In My Own Words." It's been fun writing them and interesting hearing your comments. It's funny, too, when I'm out at social gatherings and someone will look at me with that look in their eye and say, "you're thinking about another Exponent article, aren't you?" And I usually am, but rest assured I will not use your names nor will I embarass you on the World Wide Web. Have a great Christmas and a Happy New Year and my next Exponent article will be posted on January 3. I will post an "oldie but a goodie" the last week of December. Until then, drive safely, party wisely, and enjoy the Season.

Shopping Is Not Much Fun Anymore

2011-12-13T11:14:00.000-06:00

Is it just me or am I the only one who honestly feels Christmas has changed? I used to like to shop at Christmas time. After school would let out for the holidays I'd go downtown early in the morning, about three days before Christmas and blitz the mall. I gave new meaning to the term "shop till you drop." I'd buy all my gifts for everyone on my list in one fell swoop, take them all to the mall wrappers to have them wrapped while I went for lunch. I'd become the master of the 3G shopping plan. Get in, Get it and Get out! I knew just what I wanted before I left home and if it was sold out when I got there, I went to plan B. Plan B was buy something similar but never give in to defeat.

Now, I don't do as much shopping. I still like to wander through the malls but it's not at break neck speed anymore. I take time to watch the others rushing around while I sit in the centre court with the other seniors and sip my favourite Christmas double peppermint latte from Starbucks. I watch the harried parents dragging their children through the crowds and I think, "been there, done that, have a life now." Whomever invented gift cards should get the Nobel Peace Prize. They save so much time and hassle. Gift cards can be purchased for every store in town right at your local grocery store. Talk about one stop shopping! I love it!

Recently I was waiting for the lady ahead of me to go through the cashier. The cashier, in her early twenties, was carrying on a conversation with another clerk. "I just want to get my course credits so I can do something else besides work in this stupid place," she said rather disdainfully. Stupid place you say? The customers didn't need to hear her opinion. Oh, how I wanted to say something but the voices in my head told me to keep quiet.

I was searching through an office supply store later that same day trying to find something. Was there a clerk around to ask where to find it? Never! As I walked up one aisle and down the next I just threw my hands up in the air and with a loud disgruntled sigh said, "Jeez!" One store clerk within earshot could plainly see my frustration and he most certainly heard me. Did he come running over and ask to assist me? Not at all, he simply turned and disappeared down another aisle while probably thinking, "Jeez, is right, another old goat talking to himself!" I finally left the store after determining by my own searching that what I wanted wasn't in stock.

Christmas is a wonderful time of year. I love the sights of the decorated streets, the Carols on the radio and the way our condo looks when it's all decorated. I just don't like driving around the mall parking lot fifty-seven times to find a parking spot. I don't like lining up at the only open cashier along with seventy-five others while the other cashier stands behind the counter folding clothes or texting. I want to be the old codger who speaks up and rags on the cashier telling her to hurry up before I faint because I'm wearing my heavy winter coat indoors, but I don't. It's Christmas. Patience is a gift I try to give myself at this time of year.

Footnote: It takes a lot of patience and tolerance at this time of year to get through it without losing it with some people. We just have to remember that no matter what happens it is the season of love, giving and wishes for a happy and prosperous future. Next week's article also deals with my impatience with certain things. Maybe it's a good thing I'm writing the column and not my wife. She'd have to have several pages to list all the things that she knows set me off. I'm just sitting back waiting for my next rage to hit!

La Petite France - Can you say le disappointment?

2011-12-11T00:11:00.000-06:00

The Velky Houboos, my teacher dinner group, got together at La Petite France (241 St. Mary's Road) for our Christmas gathering. Our reservation was for 6:30 p.m. Two of our guests arrived later at 6:40 p.m. Prior to their arrival we had not been asked if we would lke to order a drink or wait for our other guests. Nothing. Finally, with everyone seated our waitress came to introduce the specials and take our drink orders. She was very soft spoken so a majority of our group couldn't hear her quiet explanation of the specials since the restaurant was full and the noise level was relatively high. Notice I didn't say that any of us were having hearing problems. We started out with wine, served in wine glasses the size of small aquariums.

The menu is large and varied from delicious sounding appetizers to several entrees that could warrant a return to try others not chosen tonight. The entrees range from $15 to $27. There were several specials offered but none of us tried them, choosing to order off the menu instead. Our waitress did not serve us a bread basket though other tables around us received one. I started my meal with French onion soup. It was served in a regular soup bowl with a glop of smoked cheese in the centre. I prefer it in a traditional French onion soup bowl with the cheese crusty and hanging from the sides. The soup was disappointing both in taste and presentation. I ordered the tortiere which contained pork, beef and bison. The portion was small but filling. It's was spicy as is the tendency for tortiere's I've tried in the past but this one had a peppercorn gravy over it which I felt could have been omitted. The entree came with a large serving of chips, looking like ripple chips from the bag but actually homemade in the kitchen, and a rather bland leafy salad with a nondescript dressing. There was a little paper cup (similar to a ketchup container at a fast food restaurant) on the edge of my plate filled with a creamy sauce. Because the lighting was so dim, I thought it was the salad dressing so I poured it over my salad only to find out it was a very spicy dip for the chips. It did perk up the rather mediocre salad. That's the first salad I've ever eaten with a kick and it wasn't half bad. I ended my meal with "Le Brownie" which was a large brownie cut in strips, piled high on the plate and covered with peanut butter sauce and whole peanuts. The dessert was delicious and large enough for two to share.

The Chef came out to greet the diners at each table at the end of his shift. The Velky's always manage to stay until the restaurants close. Of course when he asked how our meals were, we obliged him with the usual compliments. This restaurant, set down in the St. Boniface end of St. Mary's Road, is quaint and lively. I'd read the reviews online about it before going so I was prepared for a 50/50 experience. We never felt rushed or pressured. Our waitress, though very quiet, was knowledgable and attentive. Perhaps the food is a combination of St. Boniface French cuisine, la belle province Quebec and France but it wasn't something I'd rush my visitors to when they visit us. To me, it was disappointing and I'd have to give this restaurant three stars. That's just one person's opinion out of the six of us. Others might score this restaurant higher, unfortunately, I can't.
Footnote: The next time our dinner group gets together will be early January for lunch at my place. I better prepare ahead of time so I can score higher than any restaurant we've ever visited. That's one meal I won't be critiquing myself.

Every Child Should Watch Bambi

2011-12-06T12:18:00.000-06:00

Children are so accustomed to seeing movies at home now that it's just another boring event for them. The film studios seem to release a new movie about every other month nowadays hoping to attract children to the world of monsters, interchangeable robots or prehistoric sloths. I've watched a few of them and I just don't get the excitement the children experience when they see them. I guess that's the difference between being a child of the new Millennium and a prehistoric sloth myself. There was a time when children's movies were released only at special times of the year, like Christmas or summer holidays. Nowadays they're released to coincide with insignificant events such as Thursday or flu season.

Movies aren't special things anymore. Bambi was the very first movie I'd ever seen and I remember thinking it was pure magic. I don’t know if Bambi was ever shown at the Grandview Theatre but I was in grade one when it was shown in the old Grandview Public School gymnasium. Dr.Tanasichuk had kept me home from school due to croup for two or three weeks so I was feeling miserable and sorry for myself. A friend of the family, Marion Bass, who I called Aunt Marion, took me to see Bambi on a Sunday evening. I remember we walked down the creaky old stairs into the basement and sat on rough wooden benches worn smooth over the years. The old double reeled film projector was an antique long before its time. I had never seen any movie before so when the lights dimmed and Bambi began I was completely mesmerized. This was a comic book that moved! The animals talked! I remember sitting there with my mouth open. This was the greatest thing since chocolate!

I remember being upset when the first reel ended with the unmistakeably annoying flip flip flipping of the film. Hurry, put the next one on! I had to see how it all turned out. It was difficult to watch the raging forest fire and experience the fear that the animals wouldn't survive. As a child I was horror-struck at the whole idea of Bambi's mother being killed. I didn't quite understand if she was really dead or not. They didn't show the carcass or the blood and gore like they do in movies today. I just knew she was gone. I think every child falls in love with Thumper the rabbit. He was the character that brought humour to the movie to minimalize the sad parts. The creators of that movie knew a child's heart back then. Those were good times. Everything didn't have to be detailed in gross visuals for us to understand.

And then it was over! Even though I wanted to sit there and see it all over again, I couldn’t wait to get home to tell my parents what I'd seen. I ran ahead in the snowy darkness. Aunt Marion would just have to catch up.

When Bambi was released on DVD I went out and bought it for my grandchildren. They should know Bambi. They should learn the lessons of caring and bravery shown there. They should come to love Bambi as much as I did and besides, how can you truly love Transformers? Regardless of all the beautiful animated videos children see today they should all see Bambi. I only hope that when my grandchildren have children of their own there is a movie that they will find wonderful enough to share with them. Maybe it will be Bambi.

Footnote: Bambi is a classic. The movies they produce now will never replace the good old days. Since the original Bambi they've come out with "Bambi 2" and it's just not the same. I'm sure the film studios have plans to capitalize on Bambi sometime down the line with movies such as "Bambi Saves Santa," "Bambi Takes Manhattan," or "Bambi, You're Such an Old Deer." Twenty years from now when my grandchildren have kids of their own I hope they show them Bambi. Of course by then, they'll have to figure out how to do that since there won't be any VHS or DVD players left in the world. Everybody wants to make a buck off a deer.

Memories of Home

2011-11-29T11:42:00.000-06:00

Every once in awhile I hear from Grandview readers who say they like reading columns involving memories of the past. Most times; I take after my mother, and just look at the humorous side of everyday life and write about it. Hopefully today's column will tug at the chords of your memory and give you cause to smile.

My father was the town policeman long before community officers had to have any specialized training. I'm not sure how he got the job, perhaps it was just, "Here's a gun and handcuffs, you're the cop now." The town fathers trusted him enough to do the job and he took his job seriously. Dad was proud to serve his community. How many remember the night there was a brawl in the Modern Cafe and someone threw a bottle of ketchup which sprayed my father? He came home smeared in red and my mother went hysterical thinking he'd been shot.

I remember Herb Swain's old horse drawn funeral hearse was dragged up to the front doors of the elementary school nearly every Hallowe'en night. I remember someone always had to ring the bell at the war memorial that night as a rite of passage. It was all good clean fun. I remember how easy it was to move a boxcar away from the grain elevators and leave it blocking the crossing on Main Street so cars couldn't cross the tracks. Well, I was told it was easy.

One year the biggest news was the fire that destroyed a grain elevator. I remember standing across the tracks against the wall of the Grandview Hotel with several friends and being able to feel the intense heat. The fire department pretty well just had to let it burn while they tried to control the sparks from setting nearby houses and businesses ablaze. That was the talk of the town for months.

Remember when Polio vaccine was first used? Every student from the school had to troop down Main Street to the Legion Hall where the nurses applied the vaccine by making six needle scratches on our backs, three on either side of our spines. I remember hating needles so badly but telling myself I wasn't going to cry. I remember one boy fainted in front of everyone. Thankfully that cruel treatment was replaced the following year with a liquid vaccine administered on sugar cubes.

Remember when we phoned Boychuk's General Store (and/or others) for our weekly groceries and just simply said, "Put it on our bill and deliver them please." They'd do it without question. Dad would bring home marrow bones which my parents considered to be a real treat. I still gag at the thought of them. Recently I was in a Winnipeg restaurant that listed marrow bones on their menu for $18.50. Who knew they'd become a delicacy?

I remember being hired as a part-time clerk/typist for the Intermountain School Division while I was in senior high for the big salary of $1.25 an hour. One job was to prepare and issue paycheques to the teachers in the division. I can't imagine the division hiring an eighteen year old unqualified high school student in this day and age to be responsible for paying its employees. I was asked to keep the salary information confidential but to a person of my age, the teachers' salaries were huge. I didn't realize how wrong I was until I started teaching.

Yes, remembering life while growing up in Grandview still makes me smile after all these years.

Grandview in the early 1900's

Footnote: Actually when I think back on it my father was the Town Constable, Fire Chief, and Dog Catcher. In those days they worked a man hard for the money they paid him. After leaving the job of Town Constable he became the Town Engineer (another job witout much training back then) responsible for the water and sewage service in Grandview. It was my father who supervised most of the water and sewer lines being installed throughout Grandview. I don't know what happened but something upset Dad before he retired. One day I found him at the backlane tearing out all the hand drawn maps of the town's water and sewer lines from his scrapbooks and burning them in a barrel. He'd drawn them all to exact scale and they would have been invaluable to the new engineer. I don't know what Dad told the new engineer when he was asked for the maps. My father was never one to not co-operate with anyone but something was wrong there. I guess I'll never know.

You Need to Know Somebody....

2011-11-27T00:39:00.000-06:00

There's a new place in town that should be applauded for its friendliness, its wonderful menu and its beautiful venue. Unfortunately it will be kept a secret since it isn't open to the public. You have to know someone who is a member to be able to enjoy this new restaurant but fortunatelly for the people of our condominium complex we do. When the Southwood Golf and Country Club moved from Markham Road near the University of Manitoba earlier this year to a new fresh scenic area near the Trappiste Monastery ruins at 80 Rue des Ruines du Monastare in St. Norbert our Social Committee decided to give their restaurant a chance. For several years a local restaurant hosted our Christmas gathering and though we were happy with them, it was time for a change.

The parking lot is a short walk from the clubhouse which houses the restaurant. On a great summer day or on a warm but snowy November evening this isn't a problem. When the weather is -40 and a howling wind is blowing across the frozen open golf course the walk will be a challenge.

Once inside this beautiful building with its glass, chrome, stone marble and dark wood decor the brisk walk in the cold is soon forgotten. Our condo group was the first Christmas function to be held there since it opened this year. Ours was the first so it was, in fact, a practice run for the staff. They did a great job. The servers both in the restaurant and in the bar area were friendly and efficient..

Our condo group had prearranged two choices for their main course; one was a turkey dinner (afterall it was a Christmas function) and beef prime rib. Tables of eight were beautifully set with white and red linens and festive candles for centrepieces. Sourdough rolls were served along with salad with lavender vinagrette dressing. It was a very different dressing but good enough to eat by the spoonful. Both entrees arrived at our table with such beautiful presentation that we hated to disturb it with our forks. Service was inconsistent with some tables half finished eating before others were served but for the most part was efficient and well appointed. The turkey dinner was accompanied by potatoes, mixed vegetables, turkey (both white and dark meat), stuffing and gravy. My choice was the beef dinner. It arrived with a large slice of beef, cooked to perfection and tender enough to cut with a fork. Mixed vegetables, baby potatoes and a huge puffy Yorkshire pudding popover smothered in gravy filled the plate. Whichever meal was chosen people claimed them to be both excellent.

Dessert was a large chocolate cup filled with chocolate mousse in one half, mocha whipped cream in the other half decorated with chocolate forms and fresh mint leaves. These decadent desserts were a wonderful conclusion but perhaps were a little larger than necessary after a big meal.

Now you know there is another great restaurant out there waiting for your visit but you can only experience this fare if you are a member of the golf course or accompany a member. One of the servers at the bar told me Southwood may consider opening its restaurant to the public in the future. I hope so. What a wonderful place to go for dinner and later take a leisurely walk as the setting sun casts shadows around the ruins of the Trappiste Monastery. It's a piece of the country next door to the city. If you know a Southwood Golf and Country Club member drop a few hints about dining at the new club house. It's one of St. Norbert's little secrets and we were lucky enough to experience it. Thank you to our Social Committee for another function well done!.

The End of the Innocence

2011-11-22T08:40:00.002-06:00

Where were you on November 22, 1963? As you read this article we mark the forty-eighth anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. It seems like only yesterday as we think back to those days when we went about our business without much attention being paid to what was happening in the world.

It had only been a short time before when President Kennedy and the Russian leader Nikita Khrushchev brought us to the brink of war during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I remember all the fear that was generated around the world at that time and how it affected us all. We had bomb drills much like fire drills in school. We were directed by the teachers that should we have a bomb strike we should hide under our desks or against a solid brick wall. How innocent we were to think; firstly, that some world super power would decide Grandview was the best target for a bomb drop and secondly, that by hiding under a desk we would survive. Was the world going insane and we were being dragged along with it? Little did we know what the future held.

Then came the tragic news that President Kennedy had been shot while driving in a motorcade through the streets of Dallas. We watched grainy black and white pictures of Mrs. Kennedy climbing over the back of the limousine reaching for her Secret Service agent, Clint Hill. Later we learned she was trying to retrieve a piece of her husband's skull. We sat mesmerized all weekend long as television networks televised the scenes nonstop. We witnessed the casket arriving back in Washington, the salute of young John Kennedy Jr. and the final burial in Arlington Cemetery with Mrs. Kennedy lighting an eternal flame. How brave she was. How little we knew of their private lives nor did we much care. It seemed that after that event everything in a celebrity's personal life became newsworthy.

No sooner had the Americans buried one leader when others were assassinated. Malcolm X, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy were all taken down by gunmen. The sixties, the age of the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and Hippies wearing flowers in their hair were supposed to fill us with hope and future promises. The tides had turned. Scandals involving Marilyn Monroe and the Kennedy's, dirty politics, and the beginnings of the Vietnam war were all in our living rooms on our new colour televisions.

The Kennedy assassination was the end of the innocence. As we look back we see how things have changed some for the better, some not. Canadians survived the FLQ attacks in Quebec, we've managed to hold our country together through the threat of Quebec separation, we've managed to retain the Monarchy when so many want to have it abolished and we've continued to watch history unfold in our living rooms. Television, which once showed the Kennedy assassination weekend nonstop, now has around-the-clock news channels that beat every news issue to death until we want to run screaming from the room. Looking back, we can appreciate Walter Cronkite removing his glasses and choking back a tear as he announced, "President Kennedy died at 1:00 p.m. today." Now we have to hear over and over again about some insignificant Kardashian whose marriage lasted seventy-two days. Where has the dignity of broadcast news gone?

Thankfully we can't see the future, but looking back sure makes for a lot of reflection and soul searching. Sometimes, I long for those Cronkite days.

Footnote: This article has an American tone to it and I don't mean to say that we celebrate the events in USA history but through our television stations we get inundated with American news and ultimately American history. I love the United States and we've had wonderful experiences while travelling throughout their country but I am a proud Canadian, through and through. I hate to say it, but Canadian history is not the most exciting subject I've ever studied in school. Maybe I should have said, "I long for those Knowlton Nash days." Nah, Walter Cronkite just sounds better.

J. Edgar - The Movie

2011-11-16T12:51:00.000-06:00

Leonardo DiCaprio

If you're a history buff, someone who likes to know the background antics of history then you should consider seeing the movie J. Edgar. Leonardo DiCaprio plays the role of FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover, a weasly little mess of a man who yielded his power without mercy. He fancied himself greater than he was and it came through in this movie. Here's a man so powerful that Presidents and Attorney Generals of the United States cowered in his wake because he was so secretive and scheming and yet he had no social skills, no social life, or interest in anything but his work. He brought the FBI up to the high standards it has today but not without stepping on people along the way, and by highly exaggerating his worth.

Dame Judy Dench

If you like history, and know a little bit about the gangster era, Prohibition, the Lindberg baby kidnapping, the Kennedy era and the Nixon faux pas's then you'll enjoy this movie. It shows a side of Hoover that many didn't know; his fear of women, his extraordinary love and devotion to his mother, his love affair with his male assistant. Yes, this man was a kaleidoscope of characters, none of them very likeable.

Armie Hammer

Director Clint Eastwood

DiCaprio should get an Oscar nomination for his role as Hoover. Armie Hammer who plays Hoover's personal assistant is excellent too, and Dame Judy Dench, who is never afraid to play character roles no matter how unflattering they may be, is wonderful. The director, Clint Eastwood, shot in muted colour, mostly grays and sepia colours to depict the early part of the 20th century. It's also a little distracting to have the movie jump from the late 1920's to the sixties, then to the 30's and back again. If you know your history it works well but if not there is a chance it will become confusing. One scene where Hoover is a young twenty year old and the next where he's wrinkled and in his sixties just comes off a little strange. His makeup is excellent but Armie Hammer's makeup makes him look plastic and fake. Just an observation.

See it for yourself. I'd give it a 2.5 out of 5. The Iron Lady starring Meryl Streep in the role of Margaret Thatcher opens in January. For all you historians out there, this is another one to see. The trailer looks intriguing.

Where Was the Blood and the Horror?

2011-11-15T11:06:00.000-06:00

Again this year Winnipeg is being labelled as the murder capital of Canada. It's an unfair judgement of our city but because of the number of violence related deaths people who don't live in this city think we're all gun toting, knife carrying, vengeance seeking rednecks. We're not that kind at all. People aren't just wandering the streets of our city killing for the sake of killing. The ones involved in these murders are involved in a lifestyle that blends itself with drugs, gangs, alcohol and poverty and in their minds they have good reasons for their actions. Thankfully, the majority of Winnipeggers aren't part of that counterculture but it's still my city's reputation that gets tarnished. If it isn't multiple murders we're known for, it's hoards of mosquitoes. Winnipeg has so much of which we can be proud.

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to be in a city emergency ward after midnight. I'd expected to see the place crawling with people who were battered, shot, screaming in pain, dripping blood, throwing up and passing out while waiting for their number to be called. I expected to see ambulance after ambulance bringing in seriously injured people who needed immediate attention while security guards dragged inebriates out of the waiting room so the rest of us could have some peace and quiet. This was a Wednesday not a weekend. So much for expectations. On asking one of the nurses if this was a quiet night, her response was "it's uncommonly quiet." Perhaps it was the calm before the storm.

As my relative and I sat there talking, we observed only six other people in this dull and dreary waiting room. One was sleeping in his chair. Another was wandering around looking as if he was expecting to meet someone but that person never showed up. Another young girl was wheeled in by two ambulance attendants and told to wait until the nurse processed her. She groaned and wept and held a large, cloth, bandage to her temple. She waited long enough for the ambulance attendants to leave before she got up out of her wheelchair and walked out the front door. We never saw her again. I didn't see Jesus stop by to heal her but she must have felt cured just by being there. That was the most exciting part of our evening.

I was disappointed. I wanted to see people grappling for the next spot in line to see the emergency staff. I wanted to see blood and gore all over the floor. I wanted to hear screams of agony and gnashing of teeth like I'd read about this particular emergency room in the newspapers. Instead, I saw four security guards standing around the front desk telling jokes and talking about the last Winnipeg Jets game. Nurses joined them from time to time to add their own comments to the conversation before disappearing behind a wall to do whatever they do back there. It was very dull. Yes it was disappointing. I even thought about calling the press and the news media to tell them to hurry down to see life isn't all horror, bloodshed and gunshots in our busiest ER.

The nicest part about the whole emergency experience was I got to spend several hours with a relative I hadn't really known very well before that night. He's one cool young guy. It's too bad we were in a boring emergency ward and not having a cold one while watching a Jets game.

Footnote: I realize the night we spent in the waiting room was an extraordinarily calm night. My late wife worked for 15 years in an ER and she often came home with "horror" stories. It takes a special kind of person to work day after day in any ER. The nurses I spoke to that night were entitled to a quiet shift every once in awhile. It's a job I wouldn't want but I give credit to those that do it.

Take Time on November 11th

2011-11-10T23:02:00.001-06:00

No matter where you are on November 11, no matter what you are doing, no matter who you are with take time to remember the purpose of this day off work. People gave their all so we could have our all. One day is too little time to thank a veteran. So many have sacrificed their lives for ourc ountry. The least we can do is thank them. On Remembrance Day take time.

Clueless at Grant Park

2011-11-08T11:14:00.003-06:00

Everyone at one time or another considers taking on a second job to help make ends meet. Well, don't they or is that just me? At one time when our boys were small and before I had a degree, my salary was sadly inadequate. My wife was nursing part time and I felt that we just needed added income. Since I had my evenings free I was the one best suited for a second job.

It didn't take too long before I landed a job working two evenings a week at Gambles department store. Gambles had several outlets throughout Winnipeg with one close to where I taught school but I chose the store at Grant Park away from my neighbourhood. Gambles has since disappeared with Zellers having taken over all their locations.

My job was salesman, which was ironic since I had no experience in sales whatsoever. I started in the appliance department under the direction of Doug, the head salesman. We were both about thirty years old and he seemed to have a lot of confidence in me right from the beginning. Why? I knew nothing about refrigerators, ranges, dishwashers, washers or dryers. After slogging through all the appliance manuals I was considered an expert. Expert at everything, master at nothing! Surprisingly, I managed to sell a few items just on my good looks and wonderful personality alone. Then after a few weeks, since winter was fast approaching, I was also asked to sell snowblowers. If I knew nothing about selling appliances, I knew even less about snowblowers. How many horsepower? It's got horsepower? Is it electric start? Do you see a cord? Is the chassis metal or composite fiberglass? If it pings when you kick it, it must be metal!

After several monotonous weeks of selling harvest gold appliances, Doug asked me to manage the floor alone for a couple of hours. This eventually happened week after week while on shift with him. He'd simply disappear about six and return about eight. I assumed he was going for his supper break but the know-it-all salesclerk in the next department to appliances informed me Doug's girlfriend lived in the apartments across Grant Avenue. Oh, he was going for supper all right! He was getting more than a tossed salad at the delicatessen of life! As time went on I was working longer hours alone.

When a beautiful well dressed woman walked into my department and asked for Doug, what was I to assume? Had I finally met the girlfriend? Wrong! I informed her, without much thought or consideration, "I'm sorry you just missed him. Doug's across the street on his supper break at his girlfriends place." The woman looked at me with an incredulous look of shock on her face and loudly announced, "I'm his wife!" "Oh, oh! Sorry ma'am, would you like to buy a chest freezer to store the body?" Doug didn't return to work the next week and I resigned a week later.

I've never looked for a second job since. By the time I received my sales commission and paid for gas to and from the shopping centre, I was spending more than I was making. I never learned a lot about self-cleaning ovens, self-defrosting refrigerators or how a snowblower starts but I did learn discretion in case my fellow employee was having an affair. Buying from me at Gambles was a gamble. If you need advice about appliances, or how many horsepower your toaster has, don't come to me. I don't have a clue.

Footnote: I never saw Doug again. I experienced another situation where I ended up riding to school with a fellow teacher and her boyfriend. I discovered the boyfriend; who drove us to work every day, was a very prominent and very married politician (who will remain nameless) who later went on to federal politics. Oh I've walked with the elite of society and they aren't any better than the rest of us. Years later I worked with his wife whom he was cheating on some thirty years beforehand but I said nothing. Discretion is important when you get caught in the middle of clandestine relationships. Isn't life interesting at times?

Go Jets Go!

2011-11-01T11:22:00.000-05:00

Fifteen years ago the Winnipeg Jets dream died in our city and thousands of people were left wondering why. Our city wasn't economically sound, the backing of the Jets team wasn't financially solid, and it was just a different time and space. My boys had gone to a few NHL games not because they were avid Jets fans but because they were big fans of opposing teams. My oldest son; Trevor, was a diehard Mike Bossy and New York Islanders fan and my youngest son; Lauren, lived and breathed for the Calgary Flames and his favourite player Lanny MacDonald. When Bossy retired in 1987 and MacDonald in 1989 and the Jets were sold to Phoenix in 1996 hockey wasn't quite the same for my sons.

They were upset the Jets were gone because it cut their chances of seeing their favourite teams play but for my youngest son that would all change. Lauren was 20 when the team went to Phoenix. He was upset but along with the rest of the fans it was beyond their control. After completing several years of training to become a web designer Lauren built a website (http://www.winnipegjetsonline.com/) devoted to the return of the Winnipeg Jets. His website began to attract attention across the country and soon people from around the world were logging in to say they were Jets supporters and wanted the team back in Winnipeg.

Actually it was my two aunts who were the longstanding hockey fans in our family. My elderly Aunt Winnifred considered herself the Jets rightful coach. She'd watch every televised Jets game and shout at the players as to what they should have done. For years she had an ongoing letter-writing campaign with Hawerchuk and Tkachuk. She'd personally write to them telling them how to improve their game. They were always nice enough to write back and send her autographed pictures. Oh, if they only knew who they were dealing with! My Aunt Gertrude, on the other hand, was more demure. She'd politely cheer for the Jets and "tsk tsk" when they failed to score a goal. Occasionally, she'd clap. She never wrote to the players but simply held a solid love for her team. If the Jets were losing she'd abruptly turn off the television or CJOB. "No use wasting any more time on that," she'd say.

Then the distant dream became a reality with the Jets return and Lauren's website suddenly became popular across the country. He's been interviewed on CTV and CBC National News, radio stations from Saskatoon to Toronto, Victoria to Atlanta. His opinions and comments about the Jets return to the "Peg" have appeared in numerous magazine articles, both Winnipeg newspapers and recently he's been photographed with other team supporters for an article in an upcoming new sports magazine for Sportsnet. Lauren's passion is the Jets. The Jets are his life. When season tickets went on sale, who knew they'd sell out in seventeen minutes. Luckily Lauren's boss gave him tickets to the Season Opener and my son's feet haven't touched the ground since. His old Aunt Gertrude, who was an avid CJOB radio listener, would be extremely proud to know Lauren works for them now. Many times Lauren has said, "I love my job so much, I'd do it for free." He's doing his dad proud but doing the job for free...I'd think about that one, son! Even his old father is stoked about the Jets return. Score one for the Gipper! Oh, sorry, wrong sport. Go Jets Go!

Footnote: It was interesting to watch the fellow seated in front of us with his young son at the Jets/New York Rangers game on October 24. The Dad was wearing a rather worn and tired Hawerchuk Jersery from the golden era of the Winnipeg Jets and his son was wearing a new pint sized Jets jersey and a Jets cap. So much had changed in this man's life since the Jets had been sold to Phoenix fifteen years ago. And now the biggest change in his life was giving his Dad high fives when the Jets scored...which unfortunately was only once that night. But it was obvious that like father like son, they were having a great time together. It made me think how we've all come full circle and all the things that have happened in the course of the last fifteen years. We've lost loved ones, (family and special friends), seen governments change some for the better some not, welcomed new family members through births and marriages, taken extended distant holidays, overcome illnesses and witnessed world catastrophes and all of us have been subjected to things that have changed us forever. Who knows what lies ahead for us in the next fifteen years. Funny, how one night at the Jets game after a fifteen year hiatus gave me pause to think. And in between all the thoughts, the shots on goal by our Jets caused this old heart to stop a few times. That's not saying I only think deep thoughts once every fifteen years.

How Lazy Can We Get?

2011-10-25T11:19:00.000-05:00

We needed a new phone in our kitchen. The one we had was one of Alexander Graham Bell's originals. It worked according to its own plan and most times it didn't. I guess a good firm whacking on the kitchen counter and multiple cuss words a few times too often didn't do it any good either so it was due for replacement.

We decided we wanted a portable one as our secondary phone. We've got a permanent landline in the office and the sunroom but we wanted a phone that could be used in the kitchen, or the bedroom or even the bathroom if need be. I'm not in the habit of doing my best business calls in the bathroom while I'm doing my business but to know I can if I wanted to is comforting. Really; I ask you, how lazy are we getting when we need a portable phone in every room in the house?

I wanted a simple phone, that would just let me talk and hang up, that's all. There were two dozen different phones and brands to choose from and my mind was overwhelmed at just the thought of choosing one. What do I really need? "How many receivers do you need, one, two, three, four or the capability to have up to eight in your house?" asked the young clerk. "Are you serious? There's only the two of us," I explained to him, "who needs eight receivers?" Apparently a lot of people but not me. Then it was a matter of price. I could have bought one for under $16.00 or upwards of $175. I'd already gone the cheap route long ago and after years of having difficulty hearing the callers I opted for the middle of the road. After spending too much time with me, the now exhausted salesclerk gladly took my money and sent me on my way with a new phone with two receivers.

The new phone went in the bedroom with a receiver by the bed. The extra one sits on a charger on our kitchen counter. I'm embarrassed to say we had a Princess phone in our bedroom. That phone probably should have gone to a museum somewhere but it's now in the grandchildren's toy box for our own princess when she visits. While reading the installation and set up instructions for the new system I learned it has amazing capabilities. I can store up to 600 names and numbers on speed dial. I don't even know 600 people! This phone does everything except cook dinner and I'm sure there's a gadget for that attached to one of the receivers but I just haven't found it yet.

However, nowhere in the manual did it tell me it had verbal call recognition. When the phone rang for the first time we jumped out of our skin. On the second ring the phone actually spoke to us. "Call from Jackson." Pause. "Call from Jackson." Pause. "Call from Jackson." Who let the strange sounding woman in the house? It kept repeating "Jackson" until the answering machine intercepted the call. Lazy or what? Now I don't even have to pick up the phone to find out who's calling. When I hear the name I can choose to either pick up, to wait for the answering machine to cut in or risk losing my mind listening to the woman's robotic voice.

When my automated telephone Marilyn Monroe voice sings "Happy birthday, Mr. President," I'll know technology has gone way too far.

One Ringy Dingy: Now we have a phone in the office, the sunroom, the kitchen and the bedroom and when the phone rings where am I, in the shower, in the bathroom, down in the parkade, or asleep. Don't get me wrong, when Marilyn Monroe says, "Call from Denis," or "Call from Lauren," or "Call from the Queen" we answer. We never keep Royalty, family or friends waiting unless we aren't home. And I refuse to enlist Call Forwarding. Texting on my cell is enough to handle. Technology is one big Laugh-In at times. "Is this the party to whom I am speaking?"

Hallowe'en Rules For Seniors

2011-10-23T17:11:00.000-05:00

You know you're too old to Trick or Treat when........

10. You keep knocking at your own door.

9. You remove your false teeth to change your appearance.

8. You ask for soft high fiber candy only.

7. When someone drops a candy bar into your bag you lose your balance and fall over.

6. People say, "Great Boris Karloff mask," and you're not wearing a mask.

5. When the door opens you yell, "Trick or ..." and you can't remember the rest.

4. By the end of the night you have a bag full of restraining orders.

3. You have to carefully choose a costume that doesn't dislodge your hairpiece.

2. You're the only Power Ranger in the neighbourhood with a walker.

And the number one reason Seniors should not go Trick or Treating....

1. You keep having to go home to pee.

HAVE A HAPPY HALLOWE'EN

Brooklynn's Bistro - The Downtown Place to B

2011-10-22T17:01:00.000-05:00

Who knew that the night our Velky Houboo Dinner Club was going out to dine at Brooklynn's Bistro (177 Lombard Avenue, Winnipeg, Manitoba) that Marian Warhaft's column would appear in the Free Press the same day? Some of us had read the article before going while others, myself included, hadn't read it and were there to make up our own minds. Would we give it 4.5 stars like the Free Press food critic gave it? We were in for an interesting evening.

Our reservation was for 7:00p.m. and our table was by a window looking out on the Richardson Building and Lombard Avenue but secluded enough from the other patrons as to not be in the echoing noise of this beautiful old building with the twenty foot ceilings. The building alone is worth a visit just to see the turn of the century architecture and its beauty within. While walking to the restaurant from the parking lot amid the traffic and the sirens of downtown I felt like I was in another city. I loved it. I'd live downtown if I could, right in the middle of the action.

I can't speak for the others in our group but they all gave glowing comments and recommendations about their food choices. Two others ordered pan roasted sablefish with fennel, red onion and tomato agrodolce and orzo pilaf, and another ordered seasonal wild mushroom and truffle risoto with roasted pickerel filet and fresh fried leeks.

I an one other ordered a seasonal mushroom stuffed chicken breast with smoked provolone gratin, sauteed brussell sprouts and scalloped potatoes. Interesting combination and absolutely delicious. It came with a single curved crispy strip of bacon adorning the food like a bridge between the chicken and the potatoes. Presentation was worth the price right there! I am not a lover of brussel sprouts. When I first saw them, I thought, " Yuck, anything but brussel sprouts, " but these were pan seared and roasted in halves and I could have eaten twice as many. The chicken was loaded with a mushroom stuffing that resembled turkey dressing with a crispy skin and browned cheese sauce. I would order that again. Wonderful! I am not very adventurous when it comes to drinks so I ordered my standard, Labatts Lite. Three others ordered wine and were impressed with the waiter's recommendation of Cono Sur 2010 Gewurztraminer from Chile. We finished meal off with desserts which were delicious but in my opinion not spectacular. I had the Vesuvius cake with whipped cream and candied hazelnuts, which to me was an ordinary chocolate volcano cake that I've had other places for half the price. Our waiter said it was the most popular but it wasn't extraordinary. The whole meal was delicious but finished off with a good tasting yet disappointing dessert.

This restaurant used to be the old Liberty Grill. It was a great place to eat then, and an even better place to eat now. Word will soon spread that their award winning Chef Darryl Crumb raises good food to a higher level. It's a great place for an evening out with good friends but the parking is difficult to find on a Friday evening. As a result I had to pay to park in a parkade a block away.

I'd give Brooklynn's Bistro 5 stars out of 5. I won't hold it against them for my ordering a mediocre dessert. How can I score lower on chocolate? This restaurant is reasonably priced but could be expensive according to your choices. It's worth the trip downtown. Venture to the core and enjoy Winnipeg's downtown nightlife. You won't be sorry.

An IKEA Adventure

2011-10-18T10:34:00.001-05:00

Winnipeg is getting an IKEA store in 2012. It's a very popular home store of Swedish origin where you can purchase anything from a pencil holder for your desk to a whole kitchen complete from dishes to dishwasher. Having been to IKEA in Edmonton and Ottawa, my wife wanted to visit the Calgary store. Maybe it was because we'd finished our kitchen renovations and suddenly our old "stuff" looked a little tired and outdated. After all, a new kitchen calls for a totally updated look right down to the cooling racks, don't you know?

Reaching IKEA from our hotel was not easy using Calgary's transit system so we opted for a cab. Like Winnipeg, the cab drivers are multicultural and our driver leaving the hotel was a friendly Jamaican with a wonderfully rich Caribbean accent. He asked us which store we wanted to visit, the northeast one or the south one. "Just take us to the closest one." And so he did, except it was no longer an IKEA store. It had been bought out by Jysk since IKEA had built a bigger and better store in the south end of the city. Now that's why only one was listed in the phone book! We're out-of-towners so what did we know? "Oh, Mon, de store is gone!" was his only remark on reaching the parking lot and not seeing the IKEA store. "Oh, Mon," I replied, "find us the other one but turn off your meter. Your mistake not ours." After touring the city while zipping hither and yon on the freeways we finally arrived at the other and only IKEA in Calgary. We handed him $20.00 and he was off in search of his next fare.

We were hungry from all that city touring and from listening to Bob Marley and other Jamaican singers on the taxi's radio. After lunch which totalled approximately $15.00, we followed the crowd like cattle returning to the barn, as we meandered our way through the different departments looking and commenting on all the unusual Swedish space saving ideas. We ended up buying only one thing; a stainless steel cooling rack for $12.99 plus GST. Thankfully there wasn't any provincial sales tax. We'd overspent our daily vacation allowance already and we still had cab fare back to the hotel.

Our East Indian cab driver took us back to our hotel at break neck speed which seemed to me to be a long way out of our way. All the while he's listening to show tunes from Bollywood with the sitars and the ear splitting high pitched singing. My wife and I could hardly hear each other speak in the back of the cab as we zipped in and out of traffic. I kept watching the downtown Calgary skyline slip further away and wondered if we were being kidnapped or just taken for a ride. We paid our $35.00 cab fare and headed up to our room to tabulate the cost of our little trek to IKEA.

After our IKEA adventure there was just enough money left to sit at the James Joyce Irish Pub sidewalk cafe in the bright September afternoon sun and cry into our beers. I figure everyone who visits our home in the future should be encouraged to feast their eyes on our stainless steel cooling rack that cost us $82.99. Interestingly enough, my wife has stored it away in one of the cupboards and I haven't seen it since. Oh I know, she says it's for special occasions!

Footnote: I'm convinced I'm losing it. We had our friend Denis over this weekend to help us with a task and I showed him our expensive cooling rack and he had this quizzical look on his face like "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" so I just left it at that. Then after he'd left I realized the article about the cooling rack hadn't been published yet. He truly didn't have a clue what I was talking about and obviously I didn't either. I guess that's why we get along so well. Everything is puzzling and new to us. That's scary! So Denis, this story is for you and now you know the truth. Your friend in 309 is definitely losing it!

Paying to Play...

2011-10-11T11:30:00.000-05:00

Recently we took our grandchildren out for an evening. We try to do something different every once in awhile and we always call it an adventure. This adventure was to go to an indoor playland where the children could run, slide, climb, jump, zip line, and do anything within parental consent.

Never having been there before we were surprised to be asked for $9.99 per child and $2.50 for each adult. Not only do the adults have to pay but they also have to remove their shoes and go everywhere in the building in socks, just like the kids. Have you ever stood at a public urinal in your socks? Not a pleasant experience.

"I have to pay to supervise my grandchildren?" I asked. The sweet young thing behind the counter replied very excitedly, "Oh, yes, but you get to go on all the equipment. It'll hold even you!" Really? Like this big hulk is going to climb to the top of a six tiered climbing apparatus and risk squashing some poor little tyke who can barely crawl and has a full diaper. I think not!

The restaurant on the premises catered to children. Nutrition was sadly lacking. In fact, there wasn't any nutrition value in anything that appealed to any child. For supper, the choice was pizza, (served either mouth searing hot or icicle cold), hot dogs, chocolate bars and bags of chips. They did offer vegetable platters but unfortunately it cost more to buy a platter than to buy pizza and drinks for all four of us. We knew vegetables and dip wouldn't go over too well; besides spoiling the kids and wrecking our own weekly nutrition plan is okay with me.

Now take about fifty hyper children from toddlers to about ten, put them in a large gymnasium sized room with climbing equipment and no soundproofing, mix that with crying babies, angry shouting mothers, kids screaming and running from one end of the space to the other, four rooms full of ongoing birthday parties with about ten more kids in each room screaming for cake and more pizza, two televisions tuned in to CNN, three video games being played at full blast, kids fighting over one air hockey table, and cell phones going off everywhere and you get the picture. I had trouble controlling my teacher urges. I wanted to tell everyone to stop running. Use your indoor voices. No screeching and screaming and finally most of all I just wanted to stand up and shout..."Shut the Hell up!"

Of course our grandchildren loved it. We watched them and laughed at their antics and praised them when they bounced the highest and swung the farthest. They were having fun. And then it happened! Our granddaughter lost her front tooth. At six years that happens but thankfully big brother was right there to find it amidst the hundred feet all running and jumping and sliding on the play structure. Big brother to the rescue! There were a few shocked tears but a cuddle from Grandma saved the day. Life can be good even when you feel like you'll never hear another word that will ever be spoken again.

Isn't it interesting that our society now pays to go into large cavernous rooms to play at things we all did for free as a child. As children we climbed, ran, jumped, swung, slid, skipped, and lost teeth doing it and our parents didn't have to pay to watch us. And we did it all with our shoes on!
Footnote: We played outside in the summer from breakfast time until it got dark. Nobody seemed to worry where their children were. Parents knew we'd come home when the whistle blew or when we got hungry or worse yet, hurt. [Grandview had a siren that blew at 8am, 12 noon, 6pm and 10pm each and every day. It could be heard all over town. It was also the fire alarm to call the volunteer firemen to the station to go to a fire.] The old adage, "It takes a village to raise a child" was very true in my home town. It didn't matter whose child you were, if you were caught doing something inappropriate anywhere in town there was an adult there to discipline you and your parents knew about it by the time you got home. That's one disadvantage of the invention of the telephone. Growing up in Grandview was like growing up in any small Manitoba town in the '50's. Now parents tend to "helicopter" and hover over their children. We're encouraged to believe there's bad people out there, children aren't safe anymore. I'm not so sure times have changed that much. The media has created this hysteria and we've moved our children from outdoor play parks indoors to keep them safe. It's not a good change.

Adventures in Dining

2011-10-04T11:57:00.001-05:00

Five of my friends and I have been going out for dinner once a month for the past fourteen years and we've never been to the same restaurant twice. We could be food critics but mostly we are just a bunch of friends out for a good time and a little adventure. Our partners and spouses are not included. Maybe that's why we have so much fun!

We've been to high end restaurants where we've had to take out a loan to pay for our meal and we've been to low end where the food was so cheap we could have bought several meals for the homeless as they dumpster dived outside the restaurant windows. It's been an adventure in that several restaurants have closed down immediately after we've visited them. Other times we've had the waiters hit on the women in our group. And still other times we've had the waiters and waitresses laughing so hard they've given us excellent service and literally forgotten about the other patrons in their establishment.

We each take turns choosing a restaurant and the last time we went out, one dinner club member decided on an Ethiopian restaurant on a friend's recommendation twice removed. Somehow you should never take referrals from a friend of a friend of a friend but this turned out to be an adventure in dining like no other.
I've eaten on the Champs Elysee in Paris, in the Plaka of Athens, the streets surrounding the Vatican and on the island of Borano in Venice and I've enjoyed it all but this little Winnipeg restaurant beats them all. The waitress told us the food was all made fresh so it could be a long time coming to the table. Not a problem, or so we thought. What the waitress failed to tell us was the food was made in Ethiopia and flown to Winnipeg via Air Canada. Two hours after we placed our order our friend's salad arrived. The other five of us who didn't order salad sat there with our stomachs rumbling and our tongues hanging out. Our friend couldn't stand our pitiful drooling stares so he tossed us a piece of injera (Ethiopian bread) and we tore it to shreds and gobbled it down like a pack of hungry hyenas. When one of our group got up to go make a phone call I said, "Order pizza to be delivered while you're at it."

When the food finally arrived, we asked for cutlery since there was none on the table. The waitress informed us, "We don't have any. It is customary to use your fingers." Oh yea, hygienic dining! She did manage to find a couple of spoons for those of us who just couldn't be that primitive. Who says there's nothing sensual about playing with your food? Wat is Ethiopian stew and of course after a few drinks on an empty stomach our whole conversation got silly. What's wat? What? Yeah, wat. What? The other customers were turning and giving us strong glares at this point. Their turn would come two hours down the line when they hadn't had their food yet. They'd be asking more than "What's what with the wait."

If you like curry and you like green jalapeno peppers sprinkled in everything then Ethiopian food would be something you should try. For us it was an adventure and well worth the wait. The next time I go, I'll be stopping for a burger and fries on the way. What? No, wat!
Footnote: This article was written in the form of a restaurant review on this blog on September 11, 2010. If you'd like to read it, refer to the 2010 archives on the right side of the blog as you scroll down. One of the positives of having to wait so long to get our meal was the chance we had to talk without interruptions. So many times we've said we'd surely return to the restuarant with our spouse or with our friends but it very seldom happens. Winnipeg has a large variety of restaurants and we figure we should have visited them all by 2030. Who knows, we might even open our own restaurant. Winnipeg doesn't have an Ethiopian French Italian German Chinese Hungarian Jamaican American restaurant. Ours would be the first. Just think of the possibilities.

Pasquale's Ristorante and Pizzaria - Great Since '77

2011-10-02T21:12:00.001-05:00

The Velky Houboos Dinner Club gathered Friday evening at Pasquale's Ristorante and Pizzaria on Marion Street. We had missed getting together in August so some of the teachers were back to work so the conversation centered around how the new school year was going. The four retired teachers in the group of six all toasted the idea that "Retirement is Wonderful!"

One of the ladies ordered Fettucine Alfredo that came with shrimp the size of spare tires. She said it was delicious and she'd order it again. Two ordered Pasquale's Special Pizza which came hot and tantalizing with a perfect crispy crust and delicious toppings of cheese, pepperoni, mushrooms, green peppers, bacon and sausage. Those that ordered them said they were excellent. Other reports and reviews state this is the best pizza in Winnipeg. I can't comment on that but my friends liked their choice a lot. One other member of our group ordered a Insalata Mozza Verde salad with balsamic vinegar and a roasted chicken breast on top. She raved that it was delicious with the taste of sweet and sour throughout. She thought it was a good choice especially if you love chicken. One of the other fellows and I ordered the Lasagne Al Forno which was beef, onions, mozzarella and parmesan cheese mixed with delicious tomato sauce between several layers of lasagne noodles. It was actually as good as homemade. I would recommend that entree to anyone loving lasagne.

The restaurant at 109 Marion Street since 1977 is warm, cozy with tables that can accommodate from couples up to ten. There is a mezzanine level which overlooks the main restaurant. A young couple on a date seemed to be lost in the adventure of the enjoyment of learning about each other. Stairs from the mezzanine lead up to an open rooftop balcony which is a popular gathering spot on a hot summer evening. Our waitress was very good, though she had laryngitis. She did mix up our bill at the end of the evening. We didn't tell her we were six separate diners, so she grouped us in the pairs in which she assumed we belonged. That caused a lot of laughter. In fourteen years that's the first time that's ever happened. This group of friends is a wonderful bunch to get together with and we find laughter carries us through to the next dinner out. Speaking about next time, we will be meeting at Bistro Dansk in November. Menu items are reasonably priced. The service is attentive and friendly.

The restaurant doesn't have background music so you don't have to worry about talking over the music. It was crowded when we dined there and the general vocal level was high but hardly problematic. Pasquale's Ristorante and Pizzeria is a friendly neighbourhood dining spot and I'd go back there again for excellent Italian. I'd give this restaurant 5 stars.

Ground Level Memorial is Needed

2011-09-27T11:24:00.000-05:00

I usually never read the Globe and Mail but it was handed to me as I boarded a flight to Calgary. An article by Jennifer Peltz who writes from New York City caught my eye. Of course anything dealing with 9/11 has grabbed my attention over the past few weeks. We all know 9/11 has dominated the news lately but it was the Peltz article that made me aware of something I hadn’t known before.

Ten years after the attack on the World Trade Towers there’s still 1,100 victims whose remains have never been recovered or identified. Under the pressure of the towers as they crashed down, bodies were crushed and pulverized beyond identification. Even traces of DNA couldn’t be found to help bring closure to the victim’s families. For them, this area called Ground Zero, has been their burial place for the past ten years. It’s a sacred place for families to visit, watch the ongoing construction of new buildings and pray for the recovery of some small part of their loved ones. Indeed, closure has been hard to come by.

The old and the new: National 9/11 Memorial Park, New York City

Ten years later on September 11, 2011 the new National 9/11 Memorial Park was opened. Families were given a private time to read and reflect over their loved one’s names engraved in bronze on the walls that surround the footprints of the North and South Towers. They couldn’t help but remember and relive the horrors and loss of that day as they stood in the shadows of the new World Trade Tower that stretches high above lower Manhattan.

Proposed museum resting place for the unidentified remains of 9/11
victim, eight floors beneath the Memorial Park in New York City.

However; it must be noted, that 9,000 unidentified remains had been gathered from Ground Zero with the intent to bury them in the memorial’s museum. New York City officials intend to bury these remains twenty metres underground in the subterranean 9/11 Museum which will be opened to the public on September 11, 2012. Many of the victim’s families are irate. They don’t think this is a proper burial place for what could be pieces of their loved ones. To visit them they would have to go to a museum and worse than that, probably pay up to a $20 admission fee per visit. They’re also opposed to the idea of paying their respects in a museum which would likely include a gift shop. Where is the reverence? They feel it would be more respectful to have these remains buried at ground level where anyone could visit without having to descend below the plaza and under the footprints of the towers. This memorial was to rise from the ashes not force people back into the depths.

One World Trade Center will rise 108 floors above New York
City when it is completed and opens in September 2013.

With the court case over everyone awaits the judge’s ruling. As we sat in silence and watched the memorial service on September 11, few of us realized there were families still awaiting an end to it all. I can’t imagine that! These people lived through this horror ten years ago and every year since only to learn they may have to visit their loved ones in a museum. This is one court case I support. Tell me, who would want to go to the bowels of Ground Zero, past so many personal items recovered from the towers’ site, to visit loved ones they only hope might be theirs? What is needed is a burial memorial erected above ground; amongst the strong young oak trees, where people can sit and reflect in tranquility. That way, anyone can pay their respects when visiting New York City. After all it isn’t just their tragedy it’s ours as well.

Footnote: The victims of 9/11 didn't ask to end up in the crushing debris of the World Trade Center Towers. Surely in death, they have the choice to end up above ground where they belong. Tourists will pay the admission fee to go underground to view the Memorial Museum but the families of the victims don't want any part of being underground. Sunlight needs to fill their souls after the darkness of these past years. I hope the judge hearing this case will see it that way, too. New Yorkers await the outcome.

Maybe Santa Will Bring Me Patience

2011-09-20T17:23:00.002-05:00

The kid in me still gets excited when the Sears Christmas Wish Book comes out. It brings back memories of when my boys were small and they'd thumb through the toy section until the pages were practically worn out. They'd circle everything they wanted Santa to bring them and he was usually very good to them.

It's just September and the catalogues are out but our local Sears depot was out of stock. I'd apparently waited too long between the time the notification card arrived in our mail and the time I went to pick up the catalogue. Who knew shopping by catalogue was once again the most popular pastime since macrame?

While driving past Sears last week I decided to check if their new stock had arrived. Inside the little depot, which also houses a print and mailing business, were two people at a mailbox filling out forms and a woman behind the counter serving one man. Ah, not a long line up! I should be in and out of here in two minutes or so I thought.

The Pieta in St. Peter's - Rome

The man at the counter was sending a parcel to the United States. He didn't want to declare it as new, yet he wanted full insurance but didn't want it mentioned as used goods either. He was somehow afraid of making the wrong declaration in case Customs decided to rip open his package for inspection at the border. He couldn't make up his mind and the woman behind the counter was approaching frustration mode. Even my blood pressure was rising. I don't do well with lines unless I'm on holidays lined up to see something outstanding like the Mona Lisa or the Pieta, but this was Sears! I'd waited nearly ten minutes and heavy sighing wasn't a big enough signal for the man to hurry up. I'm pretty hard to miss in a line especially when there's only two of us and I had my Christmas catalogue pick-up card visible in my hand. All the clerk needed to say when she saw it, and she saw it, was to simply say, "No catalogues in yet," and I'd been on my way. But she didn't. She proceeded to go over the Customs explanation again with this man who by now I've pegged as someone shipping illegal wares to his friend Conseco, an illegal alien from Central America. He was so mysterious and indecisive about the whole thing.

As I leaned against the boxes about to collapse on the floor from fatigue and boredom from listening to the nonsense ahead of me, I spied the store's business cards. I picked one up and grabbed my cell phone. Many times while I've been with a clerk they've answered the phone and left me standing there. Would it work this time? I dialled the store number and the phone rang on the desk in front of me. Sure enough she picked it up and I asked, "Are the Christmas catalogues in yet?" She looked at me and I looked at her and in disbelief she replied into the phone, "No, try back on Wednesday." The man at the counter and the two at the mail boxes heard both conversations as they turned to look at me as if I were either a genius or a raving lunatic.

"Thank you very much," I replied into my phone. The man and woman at the mailboxes smiled as I walked out. Maybe Santa will bring me some patience for Christmas, but somehow, I doubt it.

Footnote: Someone told me this would have made a good Seinfeld show. I've never watched Seinfeld but I know sometimes reality bites. I happened to be in the Sears store just recently and the same woman was working behind the counter. She left her work and came directly over to help me when I entered. Ah, my work is done!

Lesson Learned? Probably Not!

2011-09-13T11:56:00.001-05:00

Certain logos are instantly recognizable. You don't even have to see the accompanying words and you know what they represent. The big yellow M, is easily identified as McDonald's. The Shell Oil, Pepsi, and now the Winnipeg Jets logos are also easily recognizable. Children barely old enough to speak can point out symbols when out driving with their parents.

I wasn't expecting to see any famous logos the other day when I collected my mail. Sure there were the usual flyers and political advertisements which I just deposit in the round file when I reach my office. While I rode up in the elevator, I turned over the envelopes and junk mail in my hand.

"Oh crap!" I exclaimed rather loudly as I spied the unmistakeable symbol in the return address corner. Winnipeg Police Service. "Double crap!" That could only mean one thing. Either I had been invited to attend their annual Policeman's Ball or it was a speeding ticket. It had been just about a week earlier that I'd been bragging to my wife and friends saying it was two years since I'd last had a speeding ticket. I had four tickets that year, all delivered in those wonderfully distinguished looking envelopes. Hadn't I learned my lesson? Apparently not!

My grandchildren who were with me at the time asked me, 'What's the matter Grandpa. Why are you saying, oh crap?" My grandkids and I talk about everything so I told them I had just got a ticket for speeding. "Grandma's going to be mad at you," my granddaughter said. "You think?" I replied.

Obviously there was some kind of mistake. It couldn't have been me who got the speeding ticket. There's a lot of people who drive the same kind of car as me. When I opened the envelope there was the photographic proof. Yep, that was my car in the pictures, and that's my bald head in the driver's seat as the camera zoomed in to capture my licence number on film. Oh, triple crap! I was clocked doing 74km/hr in a 60 zone going north on St. Mary's Road. There was little doubt. Even a blind man could tell it was my car! I was photographed on August 11, not at 12:05 or 12:10 but exactly 12:11. In the long range picture there wasn't another automobile anywhere to be seen so it's not like I was being chased by the motorcycle gang from Hell nor was I speeding to any Emergency ward. No, I couldn't use that in my defence in front of a judge either. I was the only car on the whole vacant street jauntily speeding along at 74 km/hr. I tried to remember where I was going in such a hurry. Ah yes, I was going to pick up my wife's prints at a photography shop. I'd tell the judge my wife demanded that I pick up her pictures without dawdling along the way to wash my car, rob a bank or go to confession and Mass. If I couldn't believe anything that ridiculous the judge wouldn't either. I just had to admit my guilt. Yes, Lord, I have sinned. I am a speed demon!

The money I paid for the fine could have bought groceries for a month. My granddaughter was right. Grandma wasn't happy. Life is full of lessons isn't it? I've learned never to wear my lead boots when I go driving. Well at least until the next time and oh, you know there will be a next time.

Footnote: I've had my share of speeding tickets in my life. I always manage to spread them out just far enough apart so I don't have to attend traffic school. My father was a policeman and when he'd come home and say he handed out speeding tickets I'd always think what idiots. Who would speed in Grandview, and where would they need to go in such a hurry? Hello! Funny how the tables have turned. My father must turn over in his grave every time I get a ticket. Can't say he hasn't been active then, can I?

Mission Stinko

2011-09-06T11:36:00.000-05:00

There's humour all around us, we just have to see it. Granted there's nothing funny at the time a crisis hits but later when we think back it's hilarious; at least to all the people to whom the story was told.

A few weeks ago during our hot spell, the urge hit our friends to have ice cream while sitting in their sunroom. Their large chest freezer, located in the basement, is always stocked to the top with baking, meats, and wonderful homemade meals. Everyone with a freezer knows how convenient these appliances are, when they work.

"It &$@# died!" was the loud announcement from the basement along with a lot more swearing. Their freezer had stopped working, not just at that moment but several days prior and long enough to have the contents thaw and become unbearably putrid. There isn't anything worse than rotting meat and once that freezer door was opened the entire neighbourhood took a step back.

Now what? They decided the best thing to do would be to load the thawed meat and other freezer contents into large garbage bags and haul it to their backlane for garbage pickup. However, with the long weekend having just passed, that meant their garbage wouldn't be picked up for eight days. Thawed, rotting meat in dark green garbage bags in the backlane at +32 degree weather...not a good idea. It wouldn't be long before the word spread and every dog, cat and raccoon would be there for the buffet. Their next thought was to load it up in their square metal washtubs and haul it in the trunk of their car to the nearest BFI bin at a commercial building. It's illegal for the general public to dump anything into BFI bins on someone else's property so our friends stealthily did this under the cover of darkness. It was like some CSI program where the murderers carry the body out in pieces after dark for disposal. At least it would be in a bin with a lid where the animals wouldn't get it. Without too much difficulty, they loaded their first load and managed to dump it into a commercial dumpster not far from their home. Mission one accomplished! Then it was back to get the second and third loads. This was all too easy!

In the heat, humidity and darkness, they took their last load and off they went on their secret mission to their favourite BFI bin. As they parked and were about to remove the final stinky cargo from their car their neighbours appeared on their nightly walk with their dog. "What are you doing in this part of the neighbourhood?" was the first question they asked our friends as their dog whined and strained to reach the source of the smells that not only he could smell but everyone else within fifty metres. Not able to think fast enough, and caught with a trunk-load of rotting meat they replied, "Oh, nothing. We just made a wrong turn." The neighbours just raised their eyebrows and walked on wondering how could anyone who's lived in the neighbourhood for 25 years make a wrong turn.

Mission Stinko accomplished! A bigger problem arose later that week when they tried to remove the huge freezer from the basement, With an L-shaped staircase and after major stairway renovations the freezer wouldn't fit. Talk about a wedgie! With the help of neighbours, friends, a few hammers and crowbars, there's a stairway in bad need of repair somewhere in East Kildonan.

Footnote: Our friends had us in stitches when they were telling us this story. I hope it translates into a humourous article in print even though you don't know the couple. We've been through a lot together since we've known them and they always make us laugh when we most need it. Friends like that are hard to find. And sometimes they aren't even intending to be funny and they have us rolling on the floor. Now that's real characters to have in anyone's life.

It's Me or the Dog

2011-08-30T11:24:00.000-05:00

Aren’t grandchildren wonderful? As the old saying goes, “If I knew how much fun they’d be, I’d have had them first.” We try to get together with them about every two weeks. They have busy schedules and we have busier ones so it’s difficult at times to even make time for ourselves without bringing grandchildren into the mix.

When we get together with them we try to do something some of us haven’t done before like visiting a museum, indoor miniature golf, or attending a special concert. Recently, after supper at their favourite restaurant we stopped to check out a large chain-brand pet store. My wife and I had never been in that particular store before and it was a big mistake. My wife loves animals more than I even knew. Every animal in the store became a potential pet for her. She wanted birds, puppies and hamsters to come home with us and live happily ever after. I've been there, done that and don't want an instant replay. When our grandchildren’s father was their age he and his brother had budgies, dogs, hamsters, guppies and gerbils. Of course he and his brother loved them all and were always willing to play with them but it was I who had to clean their cages and the yard all the time. We weren’t leaving the store with anything but memories. I kept reminding them we were only there to look.

For a mere $800 I could have purchased a small green parrot. It would make a wonderful pet for about ten minutes until it drove everyone insane with its incessant squawking. No thanks, I have enough chattering in my life. Besides they live for sixty years. I wasn't about to change my Will to include a parrot who would most definitely outlive me. Another huge blue, red and green squawking parrot was for sale for the unbelievably low price of $1200. That’s no sale in my books!

Of course our grandchildren fell in love with the kittens and the puppies. They already have two cats living in their basement but I don't think the children consider them pets now that they're older than the kids themselves. Cats have agendas while puppies, on the other hand, capture everyone's heart. The kids were excited to see the pups romping and playing with each other. There's only one problem with puppies and kittens. They grow up. While both grandchildren kept wandering back to the puppy corral, amazingly enough, nobody asked Grandpa to buy them one. I hate to disappoint my grandchildren but I would have had to draw a line in the sand or should I say in the litter box at this one?

The back section of the store was filled with aquarium after aquarium loaded with exotic looking fish. They aren't cuddly like puppies or kittens; therefore, our grandchildren didn't stop long in that section. Hidden further away in the corner were snakes, lizards, iguanas and tarantulas. We couldn't tear them away from that section. "No, your mother wouldn't like a tarantula wandering around her living room." "Yes, your dad might like an iguana but he'd be sleeping with it in the garage."

Whew! I made it out of the store without spending a cent. It was my wife I had to watch as she insists we need a dog. She even has a name picked out for it. I've already named it...Divorce. It's me or a dog, Babe! Hmm, why is that such a difficult choice for her?

Footnote: I haven't taken the grandchildren or my wife back to that pet store. Things are going well in our household and a puppy hasn't been mentioned for months now. I'm thinking maybe the novelty has worn off. At least I can hope until my wife retires. She can have a puppy then if she wants one and it won't bother me one bit since she says she'd love to move somewhere with a yard when she retires. I'll let her bring the dog over to visit me from time to time.

Just So You Know........

2011-08-22T23:25:00.001-05:00

This is my house after I was
finished renovating.

This article could be called “House Repairs Part Duh!” You all know my aversion and lack of understanding for doing my own maintenance around the house. I have patience for everything except when it comes to using tools to repair anything. I've been in my house for thirty years. I paid to have the inside as well as the outside renovated but there are still things that needed attention. Every house has things that require a little work. It's just whether or not I choose to pay it that attention or not. However, when you're married to a person who likes things done yesterday and done perfectly then owning a house becomes rather problematic. I figure when things get bad enough around here I could just sell it. The market is good and people are paying big bucks for a lot less than what I own.

My friend Barry built his own house from scratch and renovated it several times in the last thirty years. My brother in law is in the process of renovating a hundred year old farmhouse from the ground up. I say more power to them. If it makes them happy go ahead get happy. Just don’t expect good craftsmanship from me if you ask me for help and they know better than to ask me. My help means a possible loss of your life. If it isn’t in a textbook I can’t do it.

This is my friend Barry's house after he was finished his
renovations.

I accidentally knocked the banister off the basement steps about fifteen years ago. Who needed it? Now as I am hitting senior years I find myself holding on to the walls. The knees just aren’t as good as they used to be. My son cracked the basement window while shooting the hockey puck around down there in 1987. The glass hasn’t fallen out yet so what’s the big deal? With the curtains on the inside and the shrubs on the outside, who sees it, right? Also, the dryer vent kept falling off the outside wall. My wife was afraid that mice or birds might get in there and make a nest in our dryer. Oh sure, I have replaced it with new ones several times but who has the tools to drill into stucco? Not me! And how would I even go about doing that?

Enter Handyman Connection. My wife got this bright idea that if her husband wasn’t going to fix these things then she would hire a real man to do them. Unfortunately, the man that showed up was older than dirt, couldn’t get up the stairs without being winded and offered to sell me life insurance on the side. He does that in the other half of his retired life.

This book is a little
too late for me.

So nearly three hundred dollars later we have a great new banister, and a wonderfully secure dryer vent. The window? Oh that isn’t fixed yet. Old Bob the Builder couldn’t do that job. Good thing! I would have had to take out a second mortgage.

Brian Baumler of DIY Disaster
on HGTV...where were you
when I needed you?

Can I sell you some
life insurance on the side?

Footnote: This article appeared in the Grandview Exponent on September 13, 2005, two years before we decided to sell our house and move to a condo. At that time I was only asked for 350 words, not the 600 I have been allotted today. I thought you should read it in light of all the renovations we have currently been doing to our place this year. Now you know why I don't own a tool belt, have never been asked to help build a house or have not been trusted with anything closely resembling a power tool. I guess I am one of those people some label as "book smart." I read a book on how to build a rec room and I attempted that in 1981. When we moved in 2007, the room still wasn't finished. I'm what you'd call a DIY Disaster! Actually when I come to think of it, putting book smarts into practice...not my thing either. Geez, I must be good at something. I just haven't determined what that is yet.

Ten Places to Visit In Winnipeg Before Winter...

2011-08-21T16:34:00.002-05:00

Before the summer is gone let me recommend ten places around our great city of Winnipeg that everyone should visit. As the days begin to shorten and the days take on the chill of Autumn we should all try to explore our own city. So many times we take off to visit faraway places and we forget that there are interesting gems right in our own community. If you have visitors from out of town it's worth showing them the highlights of a city of which we all should be proud.

Legislative Building with the Golden Boy on Broadway

1. The Legislative Building: The history in this building can fill a book. Take your visitors on a tour of this building to see the Black Star and the two ton bison on either side of the Grand Staircase. Don't forget to check out the beautiful grounds surrounding this building and stop to rest at the fountain or at the newest memorial statue dedicated to Nellie McClung.

2. The Esplanade Riel / Louis Riel Bridge at the Forks: Remember the controversy over the building of this bridge? Now we can't think of Winnipeg's skyline without it. This is a beautiful bridge complete with a restaurant and a beautiful view of our downtown skyscrapers. Your visitors

Esplanade Riel/Louis Riel Bridge at the Forks

will love a walk on this controversial piece of art.

Dinner at the Downs

3. Assiniboia Downs: The Sport of Kings attracts lots of visitors each summer. You don't have to bet on the horses to enjoy their grace in motion and the wonderful buffet dinner served each evening. If something less expensive is your preference just grab a hot dog and sit out in the fresh air to watch the races up close and personal.

 : Winnipeg has a rich and interesting history. If you and your visitors are walking down Broadway enjoying the scenery and the hot dog carts on a warm autumn day, be sure to walk through the Upper Fort Garry Gate at the corner of Broadway and Main Street. It's where our city all began.

Upper Fort Garry Gate in downtown Winnipeg

4. Upper Fort Garry Gate

5. The Forks: Once just a conglomeration of railway tracks and warehouses, this area of the city has become the number one tourist attraction in the past few years. Grab a quick snack while you walk the area or enjoy one of our various restaurants that will gladly satisfy any hungry palate.

The Forks in Winnipeg

This tourist site is fast becoming the Granville Island of the Prairies.

6. The Canadian Museum of Human Rights: This museum isn't opened yet but take a walk past it on your way to the Forks or the Esplanade Riel just to experience t

Canadian Museum of Human Rights

he immensity of this structure. Everytime I pass it I marvel at the beauty of it and it's not even completed yet. Be the first to take your out of town guests to see this new addition to Winnipeg's skyline.

Royal Canadian Mint and Avenue of Flags

7. The Royal Canadian Mint: If you have a nickel in your pocket or a Looney in your purse, it was made right here in Winnipeg. Tours are offered every week day or you can wander the mint on your (in restricted areas of course) to see just how our currency is made. It's interesting to see how rolls of metal are stamped and cut to make our two dollar coins as well as coins for many other countries around the world. The Avenue of Flags on the Mint grounds is an impressive sight and a great place to t

Manitoba Museum and Planetarium

ake a stroll after learning all there is to know about our Canadian coins.

8. Manitoba Museum: The Nonsuch, the Arctic, Manitoba Pioneers and many other interesting exhibits await you at the Manitoba Museum where you can spend an hour lost in the grasslands or several hours immersed in the history of our city and province. Don't go to this museum without taking in the Discovery Museum and the Planetarium on the lower level. It's a great place to spend a rainy afternoon.

St. Boniface Basilica

9. St. Boniface Basilica: The beauty of this old church was not lost when it burned down in July 1968 for the architect who developed the new church amidst the ruins managed to maintain the integrity of this beautiful structure. It's worth a visit to see how the old melds with the new. Take time to wander through the cemetery and find the gravesite of Louis Riel as you wander down to the river walkway to marvel at our city's skyline. We may not be New York or Vancouver, but our skyline from this vantage point is something of which we can be proud.

10. Assiniboine Park: Our largest city park designed by the same man who designed Central Park in New York City is an oasis of peace and tranquility amid the noise of our busy city. Visitors will enjoy the Conservatory, the English Gardens, the new Children's Adventure Playground, the Miniature Steam Train, and the Assiniboine Park Zoo. Our zoo is undergoing redevelopment and has been rather disappointing lately but if you love animals it's a great place to visit.

Assiniboine Park/English Gardens

All in all, I am proud of my city. It's been my home since 1972 and whenever I travel it's always nice to come back. I hope you are as proud of it as I am and I'm sure you can name many other places that you would show your guests should they want to see highlights of this prairie city. Whatever you do, be proud. Winnipeg is one great city!

What Will They Advertise Next?

2011-08-16T13:26:00.000-05:00

Times are changing. It just seems that we are seeing more and more advertising on television that never used to be there a few years ago. Granted some of the commercials are humorous but, in my opinion, some of them are questionable. Am I just old fashioned or are there certain things that shouldn’t be advertised on television?

Can we talk tampons? How about yeast infections? What about condoms? Funny they mostly deal with sex and yet I am not a prude. I was a teacher who had students come to school and ask, “What’s a tampon?” Today’s generation of children don’t have any problem asking their teachers about things of which they are curious. Some felt more comfortable putting their teacher on the spot than their parents.

I mean, really! Do I have to see a man dancing and singing down the street because he has discovered Viagra. Give your head a shake! If he can’t get it up maybe he just needs a life change. Maybe he needs to consider a change in diet or a better physical fitness regimen. Do we need to hear about it? The couple that comes late to the opera because they were busy after he had taken Cialis; well come on, did he really want to go to the opera in the first place? Men, I ask you, if we had the choice, sex or opera what would you choose?

One year while teaching Family Life (sex education) to my class, one boy asked what sanitary napkins were used for and another child piped right up and told us. “My mom uses them to dust furniture.” Good one! Now what did I do after I stopped laughing? I could have made a list on the chalkboard of other good uses for feminine napkins but I didn’t. I told him the truth. After all it was family life class.

I remember seeing the first bra commercial on television and thinking that was pretty cool. I was a teenager at the time and any sight of breasts or bras was erotic. Do young boys still love those commercials? What’s the first thing they turn to when the Sears catalogue arrives. Boys haven’t changed over the years just the commercials on television have become more daring.

But with erectile dysfunction ads, (tell me what man other than Bob Dole is going to get on television and admit that he has that problem?), tampons and precautions about sexually transmitted diseases there is nothing that will likely surprise us in the future. The first time I saw advertisements for condoms I thought they'd gone too far. Now vasectomy clinics advertise to attract customers. I don’t even want to think what will come next. I guess it’s all a progressive order. However, it sure makes a parent’s job difficult when you have to answer to young children. “Mommy, what’s erectile dysfunction?”

“Go ask your father.”

Footnote: I submitted this article to be published in June 2006 but it was rejected by the Editor for being somewhat objectionable to the readership of the newspaper. At that time, I didn't have a blog which pretty much allows anything to be printed no matter how risque. So while the Grandview Exponent is closed for their two weeks holidays I am posting it this week. Next week, the Exponent is back from vacation but I will still reprint an article that got a lot of feedback from readers before the beginning of my blog. It'll all be new to you.

Scam: Be Aware! Information You May Thank Me For....

2011-08-12T11:00:00.005-05:00

I thought you all should know about a scam that is going around and I have had the wonderful luck of being called twice in one afternoon by these con artists. When the phone rings the number that comes up is 123-456-7890. When I answered, I was told by an East Indian accented man that they were calling from Windows Software company and their records show that my computer has been severely compromised with viruses and that they need access to clean up the computer for me at no charge to me. I played along and said okay and he went on to ask me to turn on my computer and log on to the website he was going to give me. That's when I told him I didn't believe Windows (which they should have known would be Microsoft) would phone me directly and certainly not from the phone number that was showing on my phone screen. I told them I suspected this was a scam and he immediately hung up. Less than four hours later, they called back and I said I had reported them to the the fraud centre of the Winnipeg Police and once again they hung up.

I phoned the Anti-Fraud Telecommunication Centre of the RCMP today (1-888-221-1687) and they said they have received multiple calls about this and it is indeed a scam. Once the scammers gain access to your computer they can access your files, your banking, and record every key stroke as well as submitting viruses to your computer system. So as a public service, I have warned you. Beware!

We Knew If a Storm Was Approaching...

2011-08-09T17:44:00.000-05:00

We didn't need a weather forecaster telling us of an approaching storm. Long before we heard the first roll of thunder the panting started. The household was put on red alert. That was our key to hit the medicine cabinet for the tranquilizers. If half a pill worked, a full one would be even better. If we didn't arrest the panting we were in trouble.

Our dog was terrified of thunder and lightning. As a puppy he was fine with them. He was too busy running around chasing our boys to worry much about what was happening in the skies. It all changed overnight. One evening our next door neighbour's son, who was a little more rambunctious than intelligent, decided it would be great fun to toss lighted firecrackers over the fence at our dog. Of course that warranted my going out and chastising him and telling him to get a brain. His father came out and told me his son was having innocent fun and to back off. Rather than get into an angry neighbour dispute I gathered up our dog, who was trembling like a leaf, and carried him into the house.

That was the start of it. Our dog heard thunder even before it crossed into Manitoba from Saskatchewan and he'd start to shake. We, as humans, hadn't even heard it yet but when our dog started to shake we sensed a storm was on the horizon. As the thunder got louder, and still before we had even heard it the dog would start to pant. Now we had a shaking, panting dog literally running from room to room not knowing where to go for safety. We thought it was funny the first time it happened but when the dog is underfoot the whole time and smelling up the house with stinky doggy breath, it got annoying.

With the storm approaching, the symptoms would always get worse. Besides shaking, panting and running from room to room, he would start to drool leaving long strings of slobber everywhere. We tried sending him down to the basement with my son to his room but the dog wouldn't stay there. He'd rather run helter skelter through the upstairs and drive everyone crazy with his nails clickitty clacking on the tile floor every time he raced through the kitchen. With the storm in full force and the lightning flashing in the windows and the booming rolls of thunder the dog was running, drooling, panting, shaking and whining all at the same time. My wife would curse the dog as he kept going in circles through the living room down the hall to the bedrooms, back through the kitchen, through the living room, over and over for hours. I cursed the boy next door.

As our dog got older the symptoms worsened. The vet prescribed tranquilizers for him and as soon as he started to shake we were to give him one. Sometimes we mistakenly sedated the dog because of some unidentified booming in the distance set him off. For the most part when the medication took effect the dog would lie down and sleep until the storm was over. It was tricky because if we missed administering the pill and the dog got into panic mode before we noticed, even a bottleful of pills wouldn't help.

I recently read an article in the Free Press explaining how to cope with a dog that was afraid of storms and fireworks. Where was that article twenty-five years ago when I needed it?

Footnote: After seventeen years and with the onset of blindness, deafness, Alzheimer's and incontinence, (No! Not talking about myself here.....yet!) we had to put our dog down on the suggestion from the vet. He was a member of the family and I have his ashes in a little urn in my office. I swear, when it thunders during a storm you can still see the urn tremble. Over the years, we had several dogs but Sambo, our little black terrier was the one we had the longest. There will always be a special place for him in our family history.

I Can Hear My Arteries Closing (or Fairs + Food = Coronary Adventures)

2011-08-04T15:40:00.003-05:00

Yesterday while listening to the radio, it was announced that a well known chicken restaurant franchise across North America had launched their new menu item. Lord only knows what they're going to call it, but it consists of four pieces of deep fried crispy chicken skin in a hamburger bun topped with three slices of fried bacon, lettuce, mayonnaise and numerous other condiments. Who would order that? I hope it comes with a pass for immediate admittance to the nearest Emergency when the heart attack strikes. The other one that has been a great seller across Canada and the United States is the Double Down (pictured top left) from another well known fried chicken franchise. It's bacon, lettuce, special sauce and other condiments packed between two deep fried chicken breasts and called a sandwich even though bread isn't involved. The creator says it is so packed full of 100% chicken that there was no room for a bun. Yeah, right! It's another sure way of meeting your Creator.

On our yearly visit to the Red River Exhibition we always buy a few of our favourite foods. Everyone likes the mini-donuts and they’re pretty well a staple at every fair in Manitoba. Another mainstay of country fairs is the corn dog; a wiener of undetermined substance on a skewer stick coated in corn breading and deep fried. Another cardiac arrest waiting to happen! I've never acquired a taste for those. In my world, wieners are meant to be eaten in a bun with relish and mustard not on a stick like the unlit torch of a angry Viking.

State Fairs south of the border seem to try to outdo each other with weird and wacky menu items. Last year one fair served a stick of butter on a wooden skewer covered in breading and deep fried for a moment before serving it to each daring customer and it was a success. After eating that you should be able to hear your arteries slamming shut. Another menu item I read about is a hamburger patty served with mustard, relish and ketchup and served between two sugar glazed donuts then drizzled with chocolate. If that isn’t bad enough then there’s the delicious sounding deep fried Mars bars. Who thinks of these things?

Deep fried Lemonade

Apparently we haven't lived until we've tried fried lemonade. This is a lemon pound cake soaked in lemon juice, then shaped into a ball, dipped in batter and deep fried. From there it's dropped into a serving dish on top of lemon icing, dusted with icing sugar and sprinkles and served to the next person craving more calories than common sense.

If you love Oreo cookies, then deep fried Oreos would be something you might like. Batter them, deep fry them and serve them with chocolate and icing sugar sprinkled on top. Now that one might tempt me to give it a try. Dipping cookies in milk is just gross; however, so I'm sure this isn't intended to be dipped but eaten with a spoon while walking down the midway.

Deep fried Oreos

I've tried different foods from time to time but I haven't tried these newest cardiac specials. I'm having enough trouble with my heart, thank you very much. I'm just a little sceptical of foods that are out of the norm. I'm not a culinary experimentalist while in foreign countries where I might have to discover where every bathroom is located between my hotel and the nearest hospital. I try to stick to the foods I know and love and that love me back.
Footnote: The Texas State Fair with over 3 million people attending each year runs for a month. This is the place where most of the adventuresome menu items seem to begin. Nothing says go big or go coronary like Texas. Maybe we should all get together and invent some edible artery coagulant for the Red River Ex next year. I remember the kindergarten teacher serving "Ants on a Log" for a snack. That's raisins stuck to cheeze whiz on celery sticks. Sounds gross but delicious. Could we fool the general public like the teacher fooled the five year olds? I doubt it.

The Value of an Education---Even to the Last Day

2011-08-04T08:46:00.000-05:00

Picture this. 1967. It was a hot June day and we should have been in class preparing to write our final grade twelve exams. But the cool water of the Valley River swimming hole at the end of the street called our names. After-all, in a few weeks we would be out of school forever. Nobody would know or much care if three boys were missing from school for one afternoon and what could they do, expel us?

The Valley River ran north of Grandview and beyond the edge of town was the swimming hole where we learned to swim in the days before the community built a beautiful outdoor pool. We hurried down the road to the river during our lunch break so as not to raise suspicion that we had no intention of going back to class for the afternoon, It was a hot day and the thought of the cool water made us hurry even more.

The other two boys and I splashed around in the clear water making it muddy with our attempts to swim when suddenly my father’s car appeared at the top of the hill. Busted! Dad drove the car down to the bottom of the hill and calmly got out. He walked over to where our clothes were spread out on the bushes, gathered up every last article, threw them in the trunk and slowly drove off back up the hill. Even though we were less than fifty feet from him, naked in the water, he never said a word to us. He simply did what he came down to do and left. I never found out who told him where we were.

An hour later the cool water on a hot day suddenly wasn’t so inviting. We did more standing around than swimming after that trying to figure out how we were going to get home without our clothes. We were cold and getting rather shrivelled when finally Dad’s car came down the hill and stopped. He yelled at us to get in. We didn’t argue with him.
With only our embarrassment to cover us we ran for the car, all piling into the back seat. Still Dad said nothing as we sat there with our hands in our laps. He slowly drove up the hill and back to our house. We lived right across the street from the high school at the time but he mercifully stopped the car in the back lane. We had a driveway right up to the back door and I asked him to pull up into our driveway closer to the door. His first and only words to us all day were, “Get out!” There was no arguing with Dad when he was upset. We threw open the doors and made a mad dash for the house.

Mom was standing at the sink peeling potatoes in preparation for supper. She turned her head to see three naked teenage boys dash up the back steps into the kitchen and down the hall to my bedroom. Our clothes were heaped on the bed.

My two friends hurriedly left while trying to avoid eye contact with my mother after all it wasn't every day that Mom had three naked teenage boys run through her kitchen. Dad had already gone back to work but when he came home I expected a lecture. He never ever spoke about it to me. Dad had only a grade six education but he knew more about psychology than I ever learned from a text book. He valued education and figured I needed to value it too.

Footnote: That was a long time ago. There were other episodes of skinny dipping after a few drinks at Gull Lake when my kids were small and we partied hard. But we all reach a time when we grow up. If I skinny dipped nowadays it would be more of a chunky dunk. I'm not a lake swimmer at the best of times and I certainly don't want to cause major tsunamis when I do. I hate seeing young children and old ladies being washed ashore and dogs running for their lives. It's best I just write about such things. Me in a bathing suit is an assault to everyone. I feel everyone is entitled to keep their last meal.
Previously published in the Grandview Exponent in 2006.

The Smurf's Movie - a Smurfin' Good Time With My Grandkids!

2011-08-02T23:46:00.001-05:00

Do you have the urge to see a 3-D movie? Do you have a craving to watch blue creatures scurrying through New York City? Do you want to see the acting prowess of Neil Patrick Harris, Hank Azaria, Jayma Mays and Sofia Vergara as they relate to imaginary mythical creatures called Smurfs? If you answered "No" to these questions then you should see The Smurfs Movie now playing in theatres just to change your opinion. It's rated General but it's good entertainment for parents, grandparents and even those who remember the Smurfs from their childhood in the seventies and eighties and who just want to see their latest antics.

I took my two grandchildren to this movie today and I expected to be bored. Afterall, when my boys were young the Smurfs were big hits and very popular in books, television cartoons and toys. I hated them. I thought they were silly, kind of ugly and their television show with all their monotonous singing was downright annoying. In this movie, the Smurfs are suddenly cast out of their mythical world where they always have to deal with their arch-enemy Gargamel and find themselves faced with dangers and unexpected adventures in New York City. And did I say that Gargamel and his weird cat also get transported to New York City? Well they do, so the Smurf's nemesis continues to plague them.

My grandchildren loved the movie. Both of them sat there mezmerised by the 3-D antics of the tiny blue gang. I was impressed, too, by the live human characters as well as the animated ones. My favourite actor was none of the humans, or the Smurfs, it was Gargamel's cat. He stole the show with his facial expressions, his actions and his attitude. I got more laughs from him than from the Smurfs. Neil Patrick Harris has always been one of my favourites but when I see him in this movie, I wonder if his career really needed this. Is it a boost or a bomb for him?

I'm glad I took my grandchildren to this movie. It was two hours of interesting fun with two great kids. It's always a great day when just the three of us can spend time together. As a father who hated the Smurfs thirty years ago this grandpa today would give this movie 3 stars. It's worth the time if for nothing else but to relive the touristy sights of New York City and to see Gargamel's silly cat. Your children and grandchildren will love it, too! It's a Smurfin' good time.

Check the Mirror Before You Go Out

2011-07-26T17:11:00.000-05:00

Is there a broken mirror epidemic spreading around the world and I haven't been informed about it? Where has the sense of decency gone lately? I’m not speaking of grammatical inaccuracies or the swearing that's so prevalent in our society. That’s a whole other issue. I’m speaking about the outfits people wear while out in public. Is it style or for attention that people wear the most atrocious things or is my age showing?

Most older women know what they can or cannot wear. It’s amazing how most women can put together almost anything and look good. Young women tend to wear outfits just to shock us old folks. Picture this; while in the mall the other day, I saw a young woman, probably mid twenties wearing skin tight red leggings, below a white mini skirt. Over that she sported a very low cut stomach-revealing purple top over-layered with a sheer white midriff blouse. Now that needn't be a bad thing but with an oversized pretzel in one hand, an extra large Coke in the other and weighing about 450 pounds she was indeed a sight for sore eyes as my Aunt Lorna used to say. She certainly got everyone’s attention as she sauntered past us with her very noticeably thin male friend. Oh, I couldn't help but wonder a lot of things! With so many rolls bulging out around her from a distance she looked like she could be walking either forwards or backwards. If she was just comfortable in her own skin the rest of us were certainly uncomfortable. Everyone looked at her. People actually stopped and turned as she waddled past while others just shook their heads in disbelief.

Granted, men are another story. The young men with their baggy pants are one thing. That style has been around a long time, it’s old now and it’s not pretty. Nobody needs to see someone's boxers when they walk past. Please, someone tell them a belt was to hold pants up at the waist, not half way down their butt. And nobody needs to see the moon when they bend over.

Men tend to dress for comfort and we like old comfortable clothes. I have clothes older than my oldest grandchild. They're comfortable. They're great to wear around the house but I don't wear them to the mall or out for dinner. Some days I’m in a red plaid shirt, blue striped leisure pants and dress shoes when my wife gets home from work. She just shakes her head at my fashion sense, but I’m comfortable. I know where not to wear that style. My home is my castle and the king wears whatever he chooses.

Let's be fair, men have our own fashion faults too. Sure we might not dress according to what our wives think is right but we're flexible. Some of us do need to change our mindset. For example, sandals are to keep your feet cool, so what's with the socks? Not cool! Wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night is overkill. Nobody needs to wear sunglasses after the sun's gone down. Perhaps it's fashionable if you're LL Cool J or Will I. Am but; hello, you’re not!

Look around you to see what people are wearing. What looks hideous to you? Keep that vision in your mind when you clean out your closet and donate to Goodwill. There's someone out there right now who'd love your madras shirt and green pants to go with their blue and orange polka dot tie.
Footnote: Remember Leisure Suits? I had a navy blue one, a beige one and a brown one. Oh the seventies and eighties were wild! I thought I was really fashionable and I guess I was back then but when I see pictures of that era now, I laugh. The picture here of the bell bottom pants and the patchwork pants bring back memories of my closets of the seventies. In the sixties, I wore a Nehru jacket (Remember those collarless suit jackets the Beatles wore?), pointed toed shoes and pants high enough to always expose the white socks. Thank God those styles never lasted. But what goes around comes around in style and what I see being worn by the youth now reminds me of my younger days...with the exception of the droopy pants and the exposed boxers, that is. That style would never have caught on in the 60's, 70's and 80's. I can't even imagine what the youth will be wearing in 2050 and to me, I guess, it won't much matter!

Get Outta Town...to the Settler's Dining Room in Morden, Manitoba

2011-07-25T00:18:00.002-05:00

The drive is just over an hour, past rolling fields of waving yellow canola under a bright cloudless Sunday summer sky. I'm talking about the trip from Winnipeg, down highway # 3 to Morden. We've driven out to Morden twice in the past three weeks and everytime we go we discover something new. This time we met relatives at the the Morden Motor Inn for a celebratory birthday dinner in Settler's Dining Room.

Coming from Winnipeg where there's a plethora of fine restaurants it was quite unexpected that we'd find such a great dining experience in a small rural town. This restaurant is hidden behind a small triangular cafe and motel reception desk in the Morden Motor Hotel. It wasn't obvious from first entering the motel that such a fine restaurant lay hidden within a few steps of the front door.

When we entered at 5:00 p.m. the restaurant was empty and we were not sure if this was a good sign or not. Within half an hour the place was hopping with customers. We had a wonderful waitress who took care of us like we were the most important people in the dining room and for the first half hour we were. She even brought mud pie complete with a sparkler for my sister-in-law who was celebrating her birthday. It was all great fun.

The four of us had different meals. I ordered a garden salad with roquefort dressing rather than the soup de jour. The salad dressing was rich and creamy, almost good enough to just eat by the spoonful, forget the greens. My entre was a 10 oz. New York sirloin strip steak ordered cooked to medium well. The chef obviously knows how to cook steak as it was melt in the mouth tender and cooked exactly as ordered. It was accompanied by buttered baby carrots and a loaded baked potato. All was delicious, and the steak far exceeded any of the ones I've recently had in restaurants in Winnipeg. For dessert I ordered mud pie to share with my wife. It was disappointing. It was frozen ice cream on a chocolate wafer crust, drizzled with chocolate syrup, sprinkled with toasted almonds and a dollop of whipped cream. Mud pie to me is a thick serving of chocolate mousse not ice cream. It was a "hurry up and eat it before it melts" type of dessert and not what I'd call a true mud pie.

My wife had coconut butterfly shrimp with a pina colada dipping sauce, vegetables and rice. She raved about it as much as I liked my steak and was impressed with the dipping sauce. However, she did say she preferred her shrimp without the sauce as it has a sweet taste in itself from the coconut. My sister-in-law ordered the breaded pickerel which she said was excellent, crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside. Her husband ordered his 10 oz. rib eye steak medium rare. It was too pink for me but he said it was cooked to perfection for him.

We were seated against the wall at a table for four partitioned off from other diners on two sides and the cozy privacy was excellent. We didn't have to worry about the noise of the now busy restaurant and our waitress kept coming back to check on us to make sure we were doing all right. We continued to be well looked after throughout our two hour dinner.

If you want to get away from the rush and bustle of the city to experience an A+ restaurant hidden away at the edge of a friendly little town take a leisurely drive out to Morden. We enjoyed the hospitality, the food was awesome and the company was superb. I'd rate this restaurant 4 1/2 stars out of 5. The mud pie would have made a bigger hit had it been more than just a frozen iced dessert.

Twenty-two Steps to Saving Money?!

2011-07-19T12:46:00.001-05:00

The more you buy the more you save. Where's the logic in that? I may not have been the brightest student in business education class in grade nine but I know that I can save 100% if I don't buy anything at all. The other day someone sent me an email explaining how I could save $100 a week if I just followed their twenty-two easy steps.

The first suggestion was to cancel my gym membership because most exercises you do at the gym can be modified and done at home. I was glad to see that suggestion was high on the list of priorities. Obviously I've already saved a bundle by not having a gym membership in the first place. Since the most beneficial exercises are walking, push ups and squats I can do them anywhere. So if you see me at the next concert doing push ups in the aisle or squats while I'm waiting in line at the Winnipeg Jets hot dog stand, don't laugh, I'm saving money.

Another suggestion was to cancel my landline and just use my cell phone. That would restrict me from ever calling my wife...which may be a good thing. She hates using a cell phone and hers is usually never switched on. So just by the sheer idea of not having them working at all I have to be saving something. Besides, is it just me who cannot get used to the voice delay when talking on a cell phone to someone also using a cell phone? It's such a jerky conversation. If I'm not interrupting the caller, he's interrupting me and nobody understands anything. Sorry, I like my land line phone though I'd probably save fifty dollars a month if I just cancelled my cell phone contract completely. Then how would I text anyone? Oh, my God, I'd have to actually speak to someone!

One of the twenty-two suggestions said air dry my clothes. Oh yeah, I'm going to start hanging my clothes all around the condo complex to dry. That's not going to happen. I know the Condo Board of Directors isn't going to approve outdoor clotheslines stretched across the courtyard anytime soon. Our bylaws may state you can't have plants hanging on the outside of the balconies but nothing states that we can't crisscross the courtyard with multiple clotheslines. It would be a little bit like Venice with the clothes flapping in the breeze while everyone sits around the fountains sipping wine.

Shop at thrift stores. I've never worn second hand clothes. Sorry, I'm not starting at my age. I know several people who thrift shop but I'm uncomfortable with it. Besides I have enough old clothes, why would I need someone else's? Just after I retired my wife and I went to a thrift store to buy old sheets for drop cloths while painting our living room. I hoped former students' parents wouldn't see me coming out and think, "Poor Mr. Robb, I didn't think a teacher's pension was that poor!" I'm saving money again by not shopping there in the first place.

So let's see. I won't be drying my clothes in the courtyard and I've already saved money by not having a gym membership. I'm not shopping at a thrift store so I've saved more money there before I even get started. The least I can do is write articles encouraging others to save money, too. If you have any good ideas, text me, I still have my cell phone account.

FOOTNOTE: If I want to save money I don't spent any. When I go shopping, I try to find sales but if I can't and I want something, I buy it regardless. I'm not a coupon user, since I haven't got time to read and cut the newspaper flyers to shreds like so many people do. My philosophy all my life has been, "It's only money. Who am I saving it for?" I earned it, I'll spend it. Life is too short to live in permanent austerity.

I'm Surrounded By Beautiful People

2011-07-18T14:29:00.002-05:00

CancerCare Manitoba - 675 McDermot Avenue

As I greet the men and women who come into the Patient and Family Resource Centre each Friday at CancerCare Manitoba I’m in awe. These are some of the bravest people on Earth. Some have walked the line with cancer before and now they’re back to undergo more treatments because the dastardly disease has returned. Others come to the centre overwhelmed after their appointment with an oncologist who’s just informed them they have cancer. They are in disbelief and emotional turmoil in search of answers in our eyes and in our words.

Many men and women who walk through our doors are bald. Some wear baldness proudly like a badge that proclaims their strength and determination to beat their disease. Others have wigs, turbans or funky hats covering up what their treatments have inflicted on them. They’re no less as brave or strong as those whose scalp reflects the Manitoba sun. Bald is beautiful, whether it’s out in the open for all to see or discretely hidden by a well coifed wig. Every patient who walks through the doors of CancerCare sets the bar extremely high for the rest of us.

Dr. Sarah Israels and a patient

As a volunteer I have come to know the regulars who come for treatment day after day, week after week. I see them at their worst, nauseated from the chemo or distressed to the point of tears. I have seen them at their best when they’re finished their last treatment and excited to get on with their lives. Chemotherapy and radiation treatments can consume a patient’s life so that final treatment is like a release from prison. Life awaits them just on the other side of CancerCare’s front doors and they can’t wait to embrace it.

We celebrate with everyone. We cheer when they have their last appointment and they drop by to say “good-bye.” This has been their second home for sometimes months at a time while they’ve gone through radiation or chemotherapy or both. They have come to us in times of trouble and we’ve offered them hope along with that second cup of coffee or that lemon-crisp cookie. We’ve let them spill their story to us and we’ve listened. We aren’t judgemental and we remain impartial. Many tell us things that they wouldn’t speak of with their own families for they know it’s all kept in confidence. And when all is said and done, we joke with them, telling them ‘we never want to see them here again.’ We celebrate the first time a patient has a treatment, too, for they have taken that first big step to future freedom. Sure the road is long and difficult but we try to help them look to the finish line no matter how far it is ahead of them.

Volunteers make up the backbone of CancerCare. Whether it’s a volunteer driver, a greeter at the door who takes patients to their first appointment or someone who shows patients the huge building isn’t a scary place to be, we rejoice in the future of each one. We lend an ear when they want to talk and we lend a shoulder when they need to cry. We see the very young who have been struck down before their life has hardly begun and we see the very old who still have so much history and life left to share. We see how life has become a true test of wills for so many.

As a volunteer I am extremely privileged. My world is filled with beautiful people.

Dr. Dhali Dhaliwal CEO and I
at the CancerCare Manitoba
Volunteer Reception

Footnote: I've been volunteering in the Patient and Family Resource Centre since October 8, 2003. I had one article published in the CancerCare Manitoba Annual Volunteer Report for 2009-2010 and now I have been honoured to have this one published this week, July 2011 for the 2010-2011 report. Volunteering, for me, is a way of paying back all the wonderful care they gave my late wife. In doing so I have enjoyed every minute of it and I've met so many wonderful people. In May 2009 I was presented with the Dr. James Johnston Award for Volunteer of the Year. It's not about the work, the rewards or the paybacks, it's become much more than that. It's about the people. I could write pages about the wonderful people of CancerCare Manitoba, patients and colleagues.

Bastille Day - An Experience in Paris

2011-07-14T15:20:00.000-05:00

Preamble: Every July 14th, Paris celebrates Bastille Day (referred to as La Fête de la Bastille or La Fête Nationale in French), which marks the storming of the Bastille prison in 1789 and the first major event of the French Revolution of 1789.

The destruction of the Bastille prison in central Paris was chosen as a symbol of France's first stirrings of democracy, though it would take several reinstated monarchies and bloody revolutions to establish an enduring Republic. Similar in spirit to American Independence Day or Canada Day, Bastille Day is a festive event that splashes fireworks and patriotic colours everywhere.

I was fortunate enough to celebrate Bastille Day in Paris in 1999. It was the most unbelievable experience I had on my three week tour of Europe. Canada Day celebrations are tame compared to how they celebrate in Paris. I spent the evening wandering the grounds around and under the Eiffel Tower with 200,000 other people from all over the world. The French celebrate Bastille Day by lighting fire crackers and firing them helter skelter into the air. They have no regard for where they land and for most of the evening my friends on the tour and I spent our time being very careful not to be a target. Singing, dancing and drinking in the streets and everyone wears red, blue and white and waves French flags. It was an amazing evening and when we got back to our hotel fireworks were going off in our area and crowds wandered the streets setting off fire crackers until almost dawn. We were tired but spent most of the night sitting at our open windows watching the festivities going on two floors below us in the streets. The next morning, tired and weary, we had to be up early and on our way to central France and the mediaeval wine making town of Beaune.

Going Squirrelly On E-mail

2011-07-12T11:36:00.002-05:00

I like using E-mail. If you have a computer you know how easily you are connected to the rest of the world. I like the fact that I can send a message to someone and not interrupt them at supper time or when they're busy. They can read the message at their leisure and respond when they wish. If it's an emergency I'll phone the person but most times it's just a quick message via the computer and I'm on my way to do something else.

Granted, there's a lot of E-mails that are totally a waste of time like the ones that warn you if you don't immediately send the message on to all your living friends something dreadful will befall you within twenty-four hours. The first time I got one of those messages I wasn't going to tempt fate. I dutifully passed it on to save myself from evil. Since pygmies didn't come and chop off my toes or lightning didn't strike me dead, I realized the truth. I was just being gullible and I needed to be strong and just press the delete key.

E-mail has become a daily part of my life. If I had a dollar for every E-mail I received I'd own a Lamborghini. Just by being on the Board of Directors for our condo, getting mail from friends, family, and readers of this column, it's not uncommon for me to have to answer 60+ E-mails a day. The Board's business is carried out in person for the most part but sometimes there's a subject that takes on a life of its own. Like squirrels.

One of our condo owners saw a squirrel run up the stucco wall and enter beneath the eaves of another owner's open patio. Well, that warranted an immediate E-mail complaint entitled "Squirrels" to all the Board of Directors. That was followed a few minutes later by a response from a Board Member back to the owner and to all seven Board Members. All E-mails sent by a Board member are addressed to all the other members to keep everyone abreast of the situation and the ongoing responses. Before long, several other Board Members responded intermittently throughout the day with the subject title "Squirrels." Then suddenly the subject changed to "Dreaded Squirrels" and everyone was off on a whole new tangent. Finally it was back to "Squirrels" again for several more hours of extended messaging. Towards the end of the day the subject changed to "Dreadful Squirrels." Oooh, not the Dreadful Squirrels! Are they a whole different breed from the Dreaded Squirrels? Solutions moved from a kill the squirrels issue and/or trap the squirrels and take them to a nice country retirement villa for senior critters, to don't trap the squirrels, just let freedom rule. Somebody suggested plugging the hole while still others were concerned if squirrels were trapped inside, they'd die and create a horrible stench over time. Finally by the time all the Board Members had gone completely squirrelly, it was decided this topic should be added to the next Board meeting agenda.

" I know this is a nutty topic but we have to
make a decision before we all go squirrelly.
I make a motion we send the squirrels packing."

E-mails can get carried away at times and we all get caught up in the little issues. Meanwhile a major problem such as dealing with safety issues around the premises becomes a minor concern because, Lord knows, we have to deal with squirrels. I don't need anyone sending me E-mail jokes and cartoons because some of the regular E-mails I receive keep me just as entertained. Freedom to the squirrels, nuts to everyone else.
FOOTNOTE: Since we've had the squirrel issue we've discovered we've had a muskrat in our underground parking garage. There has been a skunk smell in the garage a few days after the muskrat was wrangled into submission but not one person has complained about either of those issues. Somehow squirrels are more dangerous and more ferocious and may have a tendency to chase seniors. Oh, the priorities of condo living are amazing. Forgive me, I have to run now I've just had a complaint about a lightbulb flickering in the courtyard. It's disturbing the squirrel's sleep. I'll keep you posted.