Email converstion with a Librarian

A- I received an e-reader for Christmas and going through the 8500+ eBooks you have at the library, I set them in popularity order and was shocked (for real).


I expected the Best Seller list first and wasn't sure what I'd find. A few of the best sellers were first, but the first few hundred after that were mostly erotic fiction. What the hell is this? Harlequin romance etc. is the majority. I was really surprised.

I never knew this crap existed in the huge numbers that it seems to be. I am a babe in the woods! If you want porn go out and get it. When I discovered our library system simply provides folks (I was going to say the ladies, I can't imagine a guy reading this crap) with all these guilty pleasures (soft porn I guess) I was really dumbfounded.

I know it's not your fault! I'm just surprised.


L- "romantic" (erotic!) fiction is the most popular genre! Lots of women out there who stopped being romanced by their man the minute the ring went on the finger - gotta get it somewhere, right?

I like a Harlequin once in a while – I’m a plot driven reader so I can even get by on a poorly written one for the night - there are some great stories out there with a guaranteed happy ending - just what I need sometimes!


A- I have a friend who is an editor for Harlequin (editor or something). He does extremely well it seems in the business although he doesn't readily admit it's for Harlequin.

You said "gotta get it somewhere, right?" We could explore this concept, but we can save that for another time.


L- Suppose your friend was CEO of Cheetos? Not a bad thing.

I liken Harlequin to "junk food for the mind"! It fills its purpose. Never apologize for what you like to eat, or what you like to read!!


A- Ya' done me in with your response!

Paranormal Apparition

I do not keep up with the latest in Christmas yard decorations; I have no interest in such stuff. However, my next door neighbor does seem to add a few items every year or so and this year I was momentarily fascinated with it until I was overwhelmed by a feeling of dread!

As I walk up or down the steps to and from our first to our second floor, I pass a hall window looking out on my neighbor’s back yard. In the summer I look out on their pool, and in the winter I usually overlook their pool cover, except when it snows. This year they have added two lit up deer. In the evening and into the night, these two deer stand around and look wistful and very nice lit up against the snow covered pool.

I have not paid it much attention except to mentally note what a festive and peaceful tableau it all seemed to present. And than it happened, the damn deer moved!

I know nothing about this stuff, and who expected an animatronics deer! I was walking by and looked a bit longer than I had before, and the deer picked up its head! I freaked! My stomach turned over momentarily and I was in some Stephen King novel! This must be Castle Rock, Maine and I’m some teen aged kid looking at moving wire frame deer! (It was only for a second and I realized it must be a trick.)

It will not look scary in the video which is from YouTube and not one I took from my vantage point, but it is part of what is out there and “made” my Christmas this year!

Our 2010 Christmas Story

On Christmas Eve day my wife began to obsess that we didn’t have any Christmas Crackers. For those of you not Canadian or of some British decent Christmas Crackers are: From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:

Christmas crackers or bon-bons are an integral part of Christmas celebrations in the United Kingdom and Commonwealth countries such as Australia, Canada, New Zealand and South Africa. They are also popular in Ireland. A cracker consists of a cardboard tube wrapped in a brightly decorated twist of paper, making it resemble an oversized sweet-wrapper. The cracker is pulled by two people and much in the manner of a wishbone, the cracker splits unevenly. The split is accompanied by a small bang produced by the effect of friction on a chemically impregnated card strip (similar to that used in a cap gun).

Crackers are also a part of New Year celebrations in Russia (where they are called "хлопушка") and some countries of the former Soviet Union. Those are however more similar to pyrotechnical devices, normally used outdoors, activated by one person, and produce a stronger bang accompanied by fire and smoke.

In one version of the tradition the person with the larger portion of cracker empties the contents from the tube and keeps them. In another each person will have their own cracker and will keep its contents regardless of whose end they were in. Typically these contents are a coloured paper hat or crown; a small toy or other trinket and a motto, a joke or piece of trivia on a small strip of paper. Crackers are often pulled before or after Christmas dinners or at parties.

Assembled crackers are typically sold in boxes of three to twelve. These typically have different designs usually with red, green and gold colours.

We had to go out and do some food shopping at the last minute anyway, so off we went worrying about where we could find the last minute Christmas crackers.

The supermarket had none left and so we went to Shoppers Drug Mart. They were out but suggested a place way too far away to be practical. Next we tried the Dollar Store but they had none left either. My wife and daughter remembered that Chapters, the book store, had some, and off we went. My wife went in while we waited in the car and they still had some. Probably they had them because they were so expensive to start. However, being so late in the season, they were 30% off. I did complain about the price of course, but it was never going to change anything. You can’t change this horse from the way it is going.

My wife was very excited to score such a find at this late date.

So here it was Boxing Day morning (December 26 if you don’t know what Boxing Day is) and we were all having breakfast together when my wife remembered how nice it would have been if someone had remembered to take out the Crackers on Christmas!

I suggested returning the box but I knew that was a waste. So last night, at our Chinese carry-out dinner, we wore paper hats and read silly fortunes and played with dumb little toys and developed the new tradition of Boxing Day Crackers!

I am the Troll under the Bridge.....

Yesterday morning, very early, I was out with my oldest daughter at the bagel store and the woman behind the register looked at her and declared very loudly that she had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. She said a line I believe is from an old Laurel and Hardy movie, “The eyes are the windows to your soul”. She just wanted us all to know she was beautiful. My daughter smiled, blushed and thanked her which was a great way to handle a compliment. I was very proud.


The week before, I was with my younger daughter and we were in a gallery and a well known local artist came be and asked me who this was. I explained it was my younger daughter and introduced her. The woman said she could not believe that such a beautiful child could ever come from someone like me! My daughter smiled, blushed and thanked her which was a great way to handle a compliment. I was proud of her and was pissed off. My daughter thought it was really funny, which it was.

However, I do get to feel like a bit like the Troll under the bridge....

A Christmas Story

I know I wrote this story before, but since it's Christmas, and it's a real Christmas story from Christmas, 2000, I thought it deserves to be retold.
I received a package at home from Chapters, the largest Canadian bookstore. Chapters also is a large Internet site with books, audio and video. A week before, I’d ordered 2 books and a video tape (Hook) as Christmas presents, so the box was expected.

After I took the box downstairs, I decided to open it, just in case there was something wrong or missing. To my surprise, it contained 7 videotapes, with Hook among them. My first thought was that my sons and their families had pitched in and bought us one big Christmas present, and with about $20-25 US for each of the tapes, they could buy 7 videos for $175. Since it contained Sandy’s favorite movie Dr. Zhivargo and one of two movies that always make me cry (Mr. Holland’s Opus, the other being Field of Dreams) along with Hook and a bunch of appropriate cartoon movies, I assumed a knowledgeable person carefully selected them. The others are the Grinch, Murder by Death, Land Before Time VII and Joseph and his Coat or something, also a cartoon. I figured my youngest son purchased them for everyone, and that Chapters had failed to include the gift card as they often make mistakes. But, just in case this was wrong, and a generous son had done this himself, I decided not to email all and make someone feel bad. So, I decided to call the Internet store to see what happened.

After ten minutes on hold (thank God for speakerphones) I spoke to a guy who assured me this was my partial order, and that they had shipped Hook. He laughed about my predicament, informed the warehouse of their error in overshipping and wished me a Merry Christmas. He said it’s now up to them to take care of it.

I know that they will ignore my response, as it will cost more to send UPS or someone to pick it all up than it is worth. Who knows. I was honest, and perhaps I’ve lived in Canada so long that I respond without larceny in my heart. However, by Christmas, this all will be mine, I guess.

This is sort of a Christmas Story, I guess.

Of couse they never responded.

Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

and visions of kreplach danced in their heads

This all starts with dinner the other night, as we had meat rolled in cabbage and perogis. These came from a Polish food provider housed in a suburban basement with access through a ground level window with a door (or window) bell. They offer a range of home made and frozen Polish food items. They are very good, and we all enjoy them prepared in various ways. However, I am always reminded, when we have this kind of dinner, of my grandmother, a Jewish cook of great excellence, who made fantastic meat rolled in cabbage and kreplach.

I was thinking this morning about kreplach. This is a life long fantasy, dreaming about one of my favorite things made best (of course) by my grandmother, and never duplicated.

Kreplach (from Yiddish: קרעפּלעך kreplekh, קרעפפּל krepl neut. sg.) are small dumplings filled with ground meat, mashed potatoes or another filling, usually boiled and served in chicken soup. They are similar to Italian tortellini and Chinese wontons. In many Ashkenazi homes, kreplach are served on Rosh Hashanah, at the pre-fast meal before Yom Kippur, and on Hoshana Raba. Kreplach with vegetarian or dairy fillings are also eaten on Purim because the hidden nature of the kreplach interior mimics the "hidden" nature of the Purim miracle. A variety with a sweet cheese filling is served as a starter or main dish in dairy meals, specifically on Shavuot. Stuffed pasta may have migrated from Venice to the Ashkenazi Jews in Germany during the 14th century.

The word krepl is probably derived from the Old High German kraepfo meaning grape. The Middle English word grapple is related (from a grape vine hook).

There are recipes of course for kreplach, and there are delis and caterers who prepare them but some things in life are best in memory. My first pizzas, my first fast food hamburgers (when I swear they had taste) and maybe my first kiss. But for me and many more like me, its Grandma’s cooking (or Mothers cooking for some) that wins every time.

We had Jewish food, or Eastern European food or maybe Russian/Lithuanian food but whatever mixture it was, it was wonderful.

Her rolled cabbage had raisins in a tangy sweet tomato sauce and I did love it, but today I want to focus on kreplach.

She made huge ones, and mounds of them. They went in her chicken soup and were added just before serving. Some of them (I swear just made for me or so I felt at the time) were lovingly smeared in chicken fat (schmaltz) and put on cookie sheets and baked in the oven. They were hot, salty and fantastic! You could put them in soup or eat them on a plate. I think they may have been sprinkled with a bit of paprika and some cinnamon as well. They became browned and a bit crusty and it was heaven! The recipes below suggest frying them which works as well but does not include the loving and tender schmaltz treatment!

Here are a couple of kreplach recipes I found on the net. I have not tried them but thought I’d include some anyway.

#1

Kreplach Dough

½ tsp salt

2 eggs; slightly beaten

2 cups flour; unsifted (scant)

KREPLACH PREPARATION:

Add salt to eggs, add eggs to flour. Mix with your hands until the dough leaves the sides of the bowl. It should be fairly stiff. Knead until the dough is smooth and elastic. Roll out on a lightly floured board. Roll and stretch until it is paper thin. Cut into 3” squares. Place 1 Tblsp of filling i(see below) in center of each square and fold to make a triangle. Crimp edges with a fork and cook in boiling water.

Cook until they rise to the top; about 10 or 12 minutes. DO NOT COOK IN THE SOUP.

You may warm them in the soup.

FILLING

2 cups veal; cooked and ground

1 egg

1 tablespoon onion; minced salt and pepper to taste

FILLING PREPARATION:

Put all the ingredients for the filling in the food processor leaving the eggs for last.

Recipe makes about 30.

#2

DOUGH:

2 cups flour

½ tsp salt

3 tbsp. Oil

2 egg yolks

½ cup water

1 ½ tsps. Baking powder or baking soda

FILLING:

1 onion diced

2 Tbsp. Oil

1 cup cooked ground beef or chicken

1 tsp. Salt

¼ tsp. Pepper

1 egg

1 Tbsp. Matzoh meal

DOUGH:

In a large bowl combine flour, salt and oil. In a separate bowl, beat egg yolks, water and baking powder (or soda). Add to flour mixture. Knead and roll out thin on floured board. Cut into 3-inch squares or circles.

FILLING:

Saute onion in oil. Add ground beef or chicken and brown for 5 minutes. Remove from heat and cool. Add salt, pepper, egg and matzoh meal and mix well.

On floured board roll dough out as thin as possible without tearing. Cut rolled out dough into 3-inch squares. Place a teaspoon of filling carefully in center. Bring point 1 up to point 4 and seal edges. Moisten edges with tip of finger dipped in cold water to keep seams closed.

Place in boiling water. Cook approximately 20 minutes until kreplach float to top. When ready, remove from pot and serve in soup.

NOTE: This can also be served as a side dish. For crisp kreplach, fry boiled kreplach in heated oil in 10-inch skillet over medium flame until golden brown on both sides.

Yields: 18 kreplach

#3
DOUGH:

1 ¾ flour

2 eggs

½ tsp. Salt

3 Tbsp. Oil

FILLING

1 cup ground cooked beef or chicken

1 small onion, grated

1 tsp. salt

DOUGH: in a large bowl combine dough ingredients together. Knead and roll out thin on floured board. Cut into 3-inch squares or circles.

FILLING: in a small bowl mix filling ingredients well. See Kreplach illustrated for filling and folding. Kreplach can now be either boiled and served in soup or sauted in oil.

TO BOIL: Place in boiling salted water. Cook approximately 20 minutes until kreplach float to top.

TO SAUTE: Heat oil over medium flame in 10-inch skillet. Saute boiled kreplach until golden brown on both sides.

NOTE: Dough will roll out more easily after being wrapped in a damp cloth for one hour.

YIELDS: 18 Kreplach

and now the long and boring road to the new TV or why I got so mad at my wife !

As I mentioned yesterday, the new TV went up on the wall. This was a replacement for our current bedroom TV, a nice one but a bit small (19”) so that while it was great to watch the news in the morning while we got dressed, it didn’t work for watching shows from the bed.


I never wear my distance glasses in the house; I leave them in the car. In our family room we have the 50”TV and it’s easy to see, and in the playroom we have our old style 36”, but the seating is close, plus I seldom am in there so it doesn't matter.

However, once in a while I enjoy watching a show from bed and can’t do it now. So, my Christmas present to us was a 42” TV which was a large as I could get to fit into the allowable space. My wife thinks I got it planning a terminal illness and the need to be bed ridden.

This meant we needed another digital cable box and a wall hanging unit to complete the picture. I had a cable already in the room and hooked up to the old one, but if I was going the whole way, I needed to add digital to the room.

I tried to do all this for as little money as possible, and in this quest there is the hunt!

We start with the TV. If I wanted plasma, I wanted 1080p and not 720p, because if I wanted HD, it had to be able to get there. If I went LCD, I really wanted a refresh rate of 120 HZ, not 60HZ, but I wasn’t sure what I could get and do it cheap.

I really start to sound like an engineer and it scares me!

I check all the web sites looking for a deal and was not finding anything I liked. Then, there was this Canadian Tire ad which included a 42” LCD TV. It was 1080p and probably 60 HZ, but I needed to look it up. Unfortunately, at first glance, it was a brand I’d never heard of. The small one I was replacing was also from there and was a brand unknown to me, and it has been fine.

With a bit of internet knowhow I was able to determine a model number (not actually listed in the ad), it was a Hisence LCD42V68PAM. This is of course unheard of in Canada, and in the US, but turns out to be a common brand in Australia, as well as Asia, Europe, Africa and South America. There was not much to go on however, as the web site left much to be desired.

I went out to Canadian Tire to look at this thing, and it was not working due to an electrical problem the store was having. I waited a bit and a guy came by to reset everything and the TV’s started working again and I could see the set in action. It looked really great, although it was not in comparison to anything else because it sat there alone.

After a bit if fiddling around, I knew it was good, had a one year warranty, was now (for a while we hope) imported into Canada and was sold by Canadian Tire, a company I trust to stand by their merchandise. I decided to buy it.

The price was (they said) $649.99 reduced by 1/3 to $429.99, an unheard of price. The closest I had gotten by now was $489.99 at Wal-Mart for a 40” set.

I took it home (it was pretty big in the car) and had to get it into the house and up the stairs which was doable, thankfully.

Next, I had to assemble it, which only means adding the base so it could sit on my dresser so I could try it out and make sure it was working and looking good before I start to throw away boxes, etc. I needed help in doing this so I reluctantly asked my daughter for help. She did, even though we had a shouting match and some bad blood as always before we finally got it together and I could attach the cable wire and remove the old one and try it out. Everything seemed good except the cable by itself just gets me the basic cable and I needed to see if it all worked.

Off to the basement to get my upconverting DVD player to try out the 1080p stuff, and when installed I could look at Avatar and see if it was beautiful. The next challenge was, of course, if I really wanted to do this right I needed an HDMI cable. Nothing comes with one and I went on line to see if one was available for my price, the low one. Basically there were crazy prices, and I knew that if I went to eBay I could get one for $2 or so, but it could take two weeks and I would not wait that long. After looking through the big boys and finding $40-$50 price tags, I went to factorydirect.com and found one for $15 or so and went there to buy one. Having now secured the HDMI cable, I discovered it was beautiful and watched Avatar for a while.

A friend told me at a party the next day that the cable provider was offering a new HD box for free for the first year. That price was right and I arranged for one to be sent.

When that box arrived, it came with about $25-30 worth of cables and stuff, but no HDMI cable, so off I went the next day to Canada Computers which was closer to where I was going for some other stuff and got the HDMI for $16.

Now home to make the set up.

After installing all the wires I called the set up number provided and answered a few questions. They needed serial numbers, about three of them to get my box aligned and the first one they needed was not what I had. It turns out that while they said where the number could be found and what letter it could start with, perhaps in some of the models it was different. So armed with a flash light, my reading glasses, a pen and paper I went into a search mode to get what they needed. After several false starts even more boring than this story, I got downloaded.

Almost done, just program the remote and we were gold.

It did not want to accept my digital code taken from their book and the TV was not programming on the “clicker”. I had, however, looked up problems with this TV on the web, and was armed with information. The tech lady, who had never heard of Hisence, had the same code I had in the book, the same one I was reading. I assured her there was another code, because there was a problem on the net, the same as mine, but with a different service provider and they had used the wrong codes. After a bit of research, she found the correct code and I was able to program the remote.

Now there was just the programming code for the DVD player (easy) and now, only the problems involved with hanging the TV on the wall.

Searching through TV wall mounts was a challenge. One begins to question logic when the same knid of devise sells for anywhere from $30 to $400, and you have to intuit the differences.

I called Hisence to check if the TV had a standard VESA mount. VESA (Video Electronics Standards Association, is an international standards body for computer graphics founded in 1989 by NEC Home Electronics and eight other video display adapter manufacturers. They told me I was in luck but under no conditions should I use a tilting mount. I assured the people that I was only using a standard fixed wall mount as I guess if you tilt it a big piece of the plastic back could break off.

.Everything was set and my next door neighbor came over and with his help we measured, drilled, screwed and mounted the TV to the wall. In the package with the TV was a large plastic piece that Hisence tech could not explain to me, which turned out to be the finishing piece after we removed the base my daughter had worked on so diligently with me.

And now, all the parts were on, it was all hooked up and was working beautifully, and one does not have to wonder why, when my wife came up at 11:00 p.m. later that day I was dramatically disturbed by her saying to my all but asleep person, “It’s too low, you have to move it up!”

I rest my case!

We're all at home together...

So the girls are home and I’ve already become everyone’s target!

My youngest has already tried to get on to this blog to edit parts of it or remove them completely, but she couldn’t get the password correct!

I installed the new bedroom TV on the wall yesterday and my wife came and looked at 11:00 p.m. and started telling me how it was the wrong height and the wrong place etc. and so I shut off the light and went to bed after yelling at her to leave me alone. A nice “You did a good job but I think it needs to be moved up a bit” would have worked.

My breakfast included being dissed by my oldest who told her sister she didn’t know how she (the younger one) could continue to live here. She has yet to figure the reason she is living in Montreal is because I’m paying her food and her rent!

I made an egg with bacon on tortillas and was told I was crazy because I used jam with it instead of salsa! I was also told my coffee was creepy? All this is this morning!

I hope to survive the winter! I now have an office in a house nearby so I have a place to hide, live or even take a shower, although I have no serious intensions if doing any of this.

I consciously know why most of this happens, having been 17 and 19 myself, but because I understand does not make it any easier on me. Ingrates are hard to suffer! I also was a boy, and they are so much easier to raise!

There is stuff I enjoy and we’ve had a bit. The piano practicing and playing is wonderful to hear. The parties, dinners etc. we’ve gone to have been fun. Conversations we’ve had individually have been fine, it’s just a certain "get Dad" dynamic that kills me. I guess it’s a good thing that Canada forbids owning handguns…

I Thought I'd Died and Gone to Heaven

I have been looking for this story on this blog but I can’t find it. I’ve searched through the 501 story titles and of course I have no idea what it was called the first time I think I wrote it, so it’s not simple to find. I want to retell the story because it came up the other day.

I ran across Evelyn Myrie, community activist, columnist and a friend at a meeting of Hamilton's Arts Leaders. It says on the web, “Evelyn Myrie lives in Hamilton and is a social development consultant. She is co-chair of the Hamilton Black History Committee and a freelance columnist for the Hamilton Spectator.”

Anyway, Evelyn says she always remembers my story about my thinking that I had died, and she’s told the story to lots of others.

Now, if I can only remember…….

It was a beautiful day in early summer and I felt like doing something reasonably athletic, a feeling I seldom get. I decided to go for a walk, and chose to walk up to Starbucks, get a coffee and come home. There is a food or drink reward involved of course, as it’s for me.

I arrived, stood in a long line, and was looking around a crowded Starbucks when I noticed a table full of people, one of whom was a friend. I waited until I was sure she could see me and I waved. Nothing happened. I tried several more times and finally was embarrassed about the whole event and looked the other way.

I bought a cup of coffee, and quietly left the building. I drank my coffee while wending my way home. As I approached my street, I noticed a neighbor at the mailbox. I waved at her, and she didn’t respond. I waved again, but was too far away and too embarrassed to shout. She never responded.

When I arrived at the mailbox, she was gone and I was feeling weird. Had something happened? Was this s Stephen King dream come true? I was a bit concerned, but decided that I’d go in the house and see what occurs.

I entered my house through the front door and made my way to the family room, in the back, where both of my girls were watching television. Neither one looked up nor responded in any way.

I stopped, looked at everyone gathered and said, quite loudly, “Am I alive! Can you see me?”

The kids looked up at me as if I were a nut case (I was). They looked quizzically in my direction. “Am I here?” I said and they both laughed.

I guess I was alive and well, just unrecognized.

In speaking later on the my friend in Starbucks and the neighbor at the mailbox they both said that they simply never saw me.

The Perfect Crime

I was standing in the postal line at Shopper’s Drug.
The Shoppers Drug chain has sort of replaced the traditional post office in many Canadian cities. A small, full service postal outlet exists in most of the stores around here.

There were several people at the counter; putting stamps on cards, filling out papers etc. and two women were in front of me in the line with several more people behind. I was watching the woman in front of me impatiently wait her turn. She was examining almost all of the items on the shelves on both sides of our line. She seemed determined to touch or handle in some way at least fifteen different products while we waited. In front of her there was a woman who should have blended into the background, but she caught my attention.

The woman must have been around 60, with stringy hair and older clothing. She was unkempt, but not looking homeless or out of place, just sort of disheveled. She had a medium to large mailing envelope with her and there was another one on the shelf next to us that looked like she could have put it there. The woman in front of me asked her if the envelope was hers and she said she had taken it, and was going to put it back when she got finished in line. I knew immediately she was lying, they came in packages of two!

She had an object she was fooling with, a pink belt like contraption that may have held books, or dogs or something, but it was something she had picked up in the store. She may have had other objects that I never saw in the envelope. She was trying out various ways of folding it so it made the smallest footprint in the envelope.

When she got it fixed, she pulled the tape on the envelope and stuck it together, it was closed! Next, from her purse,. She pulled a pen. She addressed the envelope she was prepared.

Her turn arrived and she went up, and had the attendant weigh the package, and she paid the postage! She did not pay for the gift or the envelope!

This is the perfect crime! You involve the post office as an unwitting partner!

What guts, she didn’t even bring in her own envelope! You just pick your “gift”, steal your envelope and mail it to yourself!

No store detective can find the missing item on you nor tamper with the mail to find it!

My 500th post! A problem with signage.

This is my 500th post! This is a classic dumb move for me! This is so funny that even though I am the idiot I’m laughing at, it still makes me laugh!


We are renovating our school. We are renovating our 1836 factory building and doing a

$5 million makeover with the help of government infrastructure money and we’re very excited!

In order to make these moves it became obvious to us that we had to move out of the building so the contractors could move ahead. We found 9 temporary locations for our classes (at least half of the normal winter session) and one location for our offices.

After moving to our new temporary offices in an 1860 house in Ancaster, Ontario, I realized we needed some quick signage so we could let passersbys and those looking for us, to find us. I called in our sign order to our usual sign guy.

He said, during the conversation, “Don’t you think we should put in your phone number?” I laughed, and said, “Of course and our web site as well. They don’t need the address, because to read these signs, you have to be standing in front of the building.” He asked, “What’s your phone number?” I gave him my phone number and web site and forgot about it until a few days later when someone from my office picked up the signs. She said to me, “Arthur, I thought we kept our old phone number, didn’t we?”

“Of course”, I replied, “it’s the same”.

“No it’s not”, she said, and I walked down the stairs to the first floor to see the new signs.

And there the three signs were, each one with my phone number on them! The problem was it was my home phone number, not the schools!

(The number you see on the sign has been altered, I decided not to publish my home number through this blog.)

Technology Blues

I had a problem with my old Sony Cyber-shot DSC-W55 Digital Camera. I needed to take a photo in the morning and it said “access” on the screen and then, restart the camera, but then nothing would happen and I would have to turn it off again.


I told my wife and said I was going to toss it out. It was four years old and like most technology, beyond its life span. She wanted me to take it to a camera store but I was reluctant as it will cost more than it’s worth to fix it and I can get a new model for less. Besides, we each have a work camera at our disposal all the time anyway besides cameras in our cell phones.

I took it to work and looked ion the internet. I Googled Sony DSC-W55 problems and found the following:

Sony DSC-W55 problems...

It says access in the back window: Access and then restart..

Jan 02, 2008

I have a problem with my Sony DSC-W55 camera. It says access and then restart the camera but then nothing happen and turn off again...

What is going on?? Please, help

2 years ago

same problem how do you fix it

2 years ago

have the same problem called SONY - sending it in for warranty work. feel hopeless - will buy a cannon

2 years ago

I HAVE THE SAME PROBLEM AND I TRIED EVERYTHING AND IT DONT WORK!! :)

2 years ago

Unbelievable, but true: smack your DSC-W55 the moment you turn the on power. The lens will open. After repeating this procedure a couple of times, the problem is fixed and your lens will open when you want it to.

But still. Smacking?!

2 years ago

I have the same problems as posted with my Sony Cybershot 6.0. I buy Canon now, although every other electronic in my house is Sony LOL. Anyway, in addition to the other problems listed I get the "turn off/on message while the camera is actually ready to take a pic. LOL again.

Best Solution:

Just kick it few times on the left side of the camera and the problem will be gone. Same thing happened to me and it worked.

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Best Solution

I kicked it few times on the left side of the camera and the problem was solved. That was the solution.

Solution

2 years ago

I have this camera too and if you smack it on the left side of the camera the problem is fixed.

You may need to do it a couple times but eventually it goes away

Solution

3 years ago

1.turn the unit on and switch to play mode(picture preview mode)

2.press the menu button

3. select setup

4. inside setup and search for setup 1 (option with a toolbox icon with a number at the bottom.)

5. inside setup1, pls select initialize and reply with OK to every prompt(using the center button)

6.if successful(you'll get clock settings)

7.set the date and time then try the camera again.

8. if it prompts you to turn the power off and on again.... turn off the unit, remove the battery for 1 min and press and hold the power button at the same time.

if this does not work.... call sony cust service 1800-222-7669

After reading all this I decided to follow the course of least resistance and I smacked the camera against my desk several times on its left side!


All was repaired and it works fine!


It seems that modern technology has some common qualities with the former non technological world. If it doesn’t work well, smack it on the head!

Thriller

It's close to midnight and something evil's lurking in the dark


Under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart

You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it

You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes

I was at a community traffic pattern meeting last night at our local town hall. It was crowded and hot and just not enough room to move. This was a good sign, because it means many people were upset or concerned about the traffic patterns going into the future in our little community.

Just parking was a trial. I decided not to attempt the regular parking they share with the library, and I went behind into the neighborhood but it was all full. Next, I tried the main street but not a chance. So I decided to go behind the big church, down on the radial path, a good place to find legal parking. It was all but empty, just one other car. I parked, skirted the cemetery and went out to the main street and walked down to the town hall.

After standing and listening for an hour and fifteen minutes, my feet were starting to tingle. There was no place to even lean, and it was going on. I decided I’d had enough, and I knew where I could find all the information on line. The available information could not be seen as all the posters were covered by people.

Time to leave I realized, and I went out the door. I walked across the library parking lot and crossed over to the street, went into the church driveway and had no realistic other way out than to cut through the cemetery.

You hear the door slam and realize there's nowhere left to run

You feel the cold hand and wonder if you'll ever see the sun

You close your eyes and hope that this is just imagination, girl!

But all the while you hear the creature creeping up behind

As I walked through the stones to my car I began to talk out loud! “If you’re out there, please don’t jump out and scare me. My heart can’t take the strain!” I was laughing, and alone, and was speaking to gravestones. “Please don’t do anything to startle me!” I exclaimed.

They're out to get you, there's demons closing in on every side

They will possess you unless you change that number on your dial

Now is the time for you and I to cuddle close together, yeah

All through the night I'll save you from the terror on the screen

All I could hear was the music from Thriller coming into my head from inside of me! This was weird. I am never scared by stuff! This was a unique, late night through the cemetery horror movie set up.

'Cause this is thriller, thriller night

Girl, I can thrill you more than any ghost would ever dare try

Thriller, thriller night

So let me hold you tight and share a killer, thriller, ow!

I reached my car, pressed the little button on my fob and the lights came on! I was saved! I went home and watched TV in peace.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Off to the Urology Clinic I Go....

I arrived at the hospital on time and easily found my usual parking place on the street. I was prepared with enough change, just in case it ran over and I had to run out and feed the meter. This had happened once before, so I was prepared,
The first person I met as I arrived was an information person at a desk. I asked her where my Doctors office was and she looked around and asked me if I could manage stairs. My first thought was to say, “Do I look like a guy who can’t manage stairs?” but I then realized that this is a hospital so they are used to dealing with people who can’t manage stairs and she just wanted to get me there the best way.

I arrived at the office early and was shown into an examination room. Now I am not an interior designer, but any idiot knows that if you’re sitting around an examination room for a bit, they need to give you something to look at besides a poster of a urinary tract!

To begin with, the people outside of the examination rooms need to understand that very nervous people are sitting in those rooms waiting, and can hear them. I overheard a conversation between doctors, or at least I heard the phone conversation on one end, about a woman in the last stages of some kind of cancer and they were trying to make her more comfortable. The doctor was quite caring, I was quite nervous and uncomfortable. They then went on to talk among themselves about diseased prostates, and I was in agony, praying for a good sports conversation. And, just like magic, my prayers were answered, and they went on to the Super bowl!

I sat for a total of an hour, but was visited during that time by an intern. She was a lovely young woman who was able to give me the specific information I needed to process about myself, as well as answer questions I had about the prostate in general.

She went away for a while and finally my doctor appeared with the same young intern. They had discussed me in the hall before coming in and I, of course, could hear them. She accurately relayed my concerns to the doctor. After reviewing test results etc., the doctor agreed with me that we would take a carefully watched “wait and see” position, providing the digital (finger not data) examination was OK. He asked if he had done one six months ago when I was there, and I reminded him that he had said the next time I came in he would find an intern with long fingers.

He laughed and said this intern's fingers were longer than his and asked me if it was OK for her to do the examination. I was good with that however, I said, “There may be some fantasy active here!” The young doctor was horrified and said, “There’s no fantasy here!”, and the doctor and I busted up laughing. “It’s his fantasy” the doctor said, “not yours!”

So in the end (yup, that’s where they put it) I was given a good bill of health, and I managed to avoid any complications one more time.

I will try and stay out of hospitals and urology clinics until the next time around, about six months from now. draft

Scottish Tea Party

While in Edinburgh in September, my wife bought and brought home two tea canisters, one for each of our daughters from this famous Scottish landmark. She bought a tin (125 g.) of Heather and a tin of Highland Tea. These each cost 4.95 pounds sterling, about $8 each.
The Edinburgh Tea and Coffee Company history dates back to 1812, when sailing ships brought delicacies from the New World directly into Leith, the main port of Edinburgh. Then, they sourced our tea and coffee from only the best plantations around the world. And nothing’s changed. To ensure we maintain our exacting quality standards, they insist on the same today, too.

Their roots grew from an Edinburgh grocery shop trading in spices and delicacies.

Their first shop was established in 1812 in Canongate, then the centre of Edinburgh. Further premises were soon added at Princes Street and George Street, as well as a wholesale warehouse in Drummond Street.

In those early days, the importing of tea was our main area of expansion, and we were the first Scottish merchants to organize tea shipments to arrive in Britain outside the port of London – landing in Leith by the clipper ‘Isabella’ in 1835.

The quality of the products available was affirmed in 1837 with a Royal Warrant by Queen Victoria to supply tea and coffee to the royal households in Scotland.

The family business continued to expand and develop its knowledge and expertise, with a particular competitive advantage over teas from China. An informal system of information gathering among the China tea merchants was established. This enabled the firm to purchase a wide variety of teas and book their passage to Leith on the clippers, secure in the acquired knowledge that we would be cornering the British market by guaranteeing arrival before the competition.


Although the shops remained as successful retail operations until the 1960s, the wholesale and export departments moved to a site on Couper Street in Leith in 1921. The greater space allowed for modern, up to date packing and blending machinery to be brought into use, and allowed the export business to expand rapidly, encouraged by the opening up of world trading opportunities after the Second World War.

From initial small beginnings in Eastern Europe before the Second World War, export trade expanded into Western Europe, the Middle and Far East, and North and South America after 1945.

The firm became part of Premier Brands in November 1986 and operations remained at the Couper Street premises until its management buyout in 1991 when the coffee arm of the business was reincarnated as Edinburgh Tea & Coffee Ltd.

Today the Edinburgh Tea & Coffee Company is a thriving factory with a passion for blending tea and roasting coffee.

They now operate from our facility in Edinburgh’s seaside town, Portobello. From a company steeped in tradition, Edinburgh Tea & Coffee Company remains a family business and as such we have maintained the essential artisan craft of tea blending and coffee roasting, whilst bringing production techniques up to the 21st Century.

Today in Homesense, the Home Store of Winner's, the Canadian arm of T.J.Maxx, they had the same two tins of tea. The price was $4.95 each!

Every now and then I wonder, how does all this happen?

A Simple Twist of Fate

It was the mid 70’s and I was at the mall talking to some friends in the food court I believe. Within my peripheral vision I spied a shape I recognized as a fellow faculty member from the Maryland Institute. He was a popular artist and teacher, in his early 40’s and married. I thought it was odd, this urban weirdly sort of hip character hanging around a suburban mall. I don’t believe he saw me, and he very quietly went into the movie theater in the middle of the afternoon, with no earthly reason to be there, as I looked to see what was playing. There were no “arty” movies, and at best it was middle of the road crap. I continued talking and barely noticed this, and would have forgotten it that day if the events did not continue the way they did.


As time progressed, about ten minutes later, a well to do youngish (early 30’s) Jewish housewife and part time student at the College, wandered into the mall. She did not look out of place, and I would not have even noticed her presence except she too entered the movies at that point.

I leave the story to you. Who knows? Maybe I was wrong and the movies were really great, and one o’clock on a weekday afternoon is a popular time for art students and their teachers to be at the movies.

Was it just a simple twist of fate?

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

So last night our friend Steven calls from New Jersey. He says it was great to see us last week and talked about how much fun we had. I get started on all my stories from the weekend including the big Thankful story I wrote yesterday and I’m on a roll!


Ten minutes of stand up routine I do, just for fun. I’m doing shtick and having a good time and I say, "I’ll hand the phone over to my wife".

He says, “Before I speak to her, I just wanted to let you know that I'm calling to let you know that my mother died yesterday”.

Now let’s get something straight! If someone dies, and you call me, please start with that information first! I need to know it’s serious time in advance, because I get started and I don’t know when to quit!

I was devastated. I loved his mother! She was a very nice lady who did live a long and productive life, but it was sad to learn of her passing. I feel terrible, both for him and for me for being such a schmuck!

Please, if you call, let me know in advance if it’s bad news. Give me a sign!

We Give Thanks

We drove nine hours on Thursday to get to New Jersey to spend Thanksgiving with my mother-in-law. It was a long trip, and we were tired, but happy to arrive and get a traditional, home cooked, Thanksgiving dinner.

Before we ate, I said, "Let's all say what we're thankful for".

My mother-in-law said, "I know that I'm most thankful for (here she names my sister and brother in law and their two kids).

The chopped liver family (us) sat in stunned silence waiting for the rest of the sentence.

There was none.

Taylor who?

As many of you know I’m in the middle of a big move, moving an institution to a new home for three months and then returning to a newly renovated building. Yesterday was the actual day for our office move and we were crazy. However, it was also the day, or so my daughter told me, that one could order pre-sale Taylor Swift tickets through American Express and Ticketmaster.
My daughter begged and demanded, whichever would work, for me to order the tickets for the Saturday evening performance in Toronto in July, and to do it at 10:00 a.m. when it went on line.

You must be an American Express cardholder to order, and I am one of those, so I had to do it. Besides, my wife and daughter couldn’t possibly get to a computer and of course, having so little to do in my life, I should be clearly able to do it.

We had no internet at work as ours had been turned off so we could pack electronics for moving, and I had the only Wi-Fi laptop around. My only hope was the local, young and sort of hip coffee shop in town.

I put my laptop in a plastic garbage bag as it was raining and I had no available carrier, and I went off at 9:45 a.m. to check out the coffee shop. Yes, they had Wi-Fi so I got my coffee and booted up.

My daughter had sent me a link and I am a registered Ticketmaster customer so it was easy to get there. I opened the purchase tickets as close to 10:00 as possible, and I was in an electronic queue for a ten minute wait while the electronic program counted down.

Once there, I chose a price and it chose some seats, and then had two minutes to make a decision or start again. I opened the seating chart as fast as possible and it looked OK, even though the price was more than she wanted to spend, it just made sense to me, and at that time and I only had two minutes to decide.

I clicked OK and it took me to the payment and delivery method, which was another two minutes of quick decisions.

Mail the tickets (the right choice I am told) and quickly put in the numbers of my card and my name and address etc. I forgot to bring my glasses and squinted my way through it but I screwed up the credit card numbers, of course. It worked out OK, but it said I wasn’t finished, as I had to choose a credit card type. I was on an American Express page but I never checked the American Express button. At the same time my clock was quickly moving forward. With seconds to spare I bought two medium priced tickets that with taxes and fees came out to $211, only $11 more than my first car!

In the end, I went to the proprietor and thanked him for the internet, explaining my daughter would be thankful because I was able to get on line and order Taylor Swift tickets as soon as they were available.

His response was, “Taylor who?’

Maybe he wasn’t as hip as I had assumed. He admitted that his favorite singer (after I explained who Taylor Swift was) was Ella Fitzgerald, even though she was dead.

Flying At Half Mast

I used the men’s room today before I left the building at lunch time.


At noon I went shopping first. I stopped at a small store near my office and spoke with a woman I have known for years and discussed a problem I was having and was looking for her solution. We chatted a while and I noticed she was looking in another direction.

I was concerned as she was never that way before, at least not that I had noticed. She was helpful, and I was very satisfied with the service, but things just seemed a bit off.

It didn’t bother me consciously; it sort of sat there in my head and would have died except, after I left, I decided to go to McDonalds. I got out of the car and went in, and while standing in line decided to check my fly. I was flabbergasted, it was full wide open!

Of course she was looking the other way! I am now embarrassed, but I do understand she wouldn’t have said anything. People are too polite to point out the booger on your upper lip, your open fly or even, as has happened to me, let you know your garage is on fire for fear that you’d find them intrusive!

People, be aggressive. Let the poor schmuck know his dingus is hanging out or whatever the problem is. It is more embarrassing to the person to go around that way than it is to tell them the truth. A moment of uncomfortably on your part may help another person lead a better life.

The Frugal Repast or Thanksgiving dinner at McDonalds, almost.

OK, so here we are on the road on Thanksgiving Day. We are among the few weary travelers moving down the highways. The border was quiet, and the guard asked me where we were going. "New Jersey", I said. He looked at his watch and asked why, we said, "Thanksgiving dinner". He questioned what time dinner was. I exclaimed that it was served whenever we arrived.

Off into the New York countryside, across the Thurway. As a toll road, it has a 365 days 24/7 open policy. For money you get honey (said my Aunt Ida) and if you pay a toll, you get food and gas. However, at some point we leave the highway and move on toward our destination. At around 1:30 p.m. we decide to get gas and lunch. We stop at McDonalds to get lunch and laugh about the sad little Thanksgiving lunch we are about to receive when lo and behold, McDonalds is closed! How dare they do this?

Off to the next big town, where we know they have lots of services and lo and behold, the whole damn town seems closed! It’s like a horror movie, the buildings are there but the people have gone?

No McDonalds, no Taco Bell, no Arby’s, all closed. The Tim Horton’s was open, and even though we had a breakfast there, we gave in. But, the toilet was backed up with people and feces, and that ended that mission. The girls found a Ma and Pa restaurant next door and they were about to close, but they let them use the bathroom. Tim Horton’s, by the way, had a bus arrive with a million people so it was off limits as well.

We went to the Subway and I waited in line for the one bathroom. The kid in front of me finished, and shut the door with the lock on so I had to get help from disgruntled Subway workers after I told them I would pee in their aisles or break their door handle.

On my way out with our carry out sandwiches, chips and pop, I looked carefully at the people sitting around eating what could have been Thanksgiving dinner at Subway. They were all of the ethnic varieties, of some East Asian ethnicity and clearly unhappy about everything in their lives. At least about sitting there eating lunch in this place.

It was a difficult eat, driving down a wet highway with a 6” sandwich dripping lettuce leaves down my puffy coat, trying to be thankful about anything.

We eventually arrived in Mendham, NJ by 5:40 p.m. in a foggy, wet and cold evening happy to be over the 9 ½ hour ordeal. The traditional 2 martini pre-dinner slurp warmed my heart and the turkey, etc. was great.

So, Happy Thanksgiving America from your wayward son!

Renovation Blues

During our building renovations, we made the decision to get out of the building. This required a big move for our offices, and about half of our classes, because we could only find enough space to move some, and it all is borrowed or rented, so it fell to classes that would have enough students to at least break even.


My life has become a holy hell, but also great fun. This is a giant puzzle, which includes getting rid of massive amounts of collected junk, and I have been told, good stuff we’re throwing out! How much am I willing to spend to save stuff I will throw out in a few months anyway? Unfortunately, people think everything is valuable! Too much Antiques Roadshow!

There are a million stories revolving around this little fiasco, and all of them are rich in humor.

Last Friday night just before midnight, ADT called waking me out of a sound sleep. It seems a motion detector had gone off in our building, and they had called the building construction manager to tell him at 7:30 p.m., and he had been out to view the building. But now, the same alarm had gone off seven more times so they thought they’d wake me to tell me. I told them to turn off their bubble machine and leave me alone, I wasn’t budging.

Saturday was quiet, and no one called. The next call came at 9:00 Sunday morning, telling me the alarm had gone off and the police were on their way. I had to go down and meet the police; however, they were met by a number of volunteers and told nothing was wrong. I arrived after they were gone.

They called me again at 3:00 p.m. and I told them I once again refused to go down and meet police and told them to turn us off until further notice.

The cause of the nonsense ( as seen by one of our employees) was a squirrel that had gotten around the vinyl barrier enclosing the outside walls torn down to make way for the elevator. I can not turn it on again until the building is secure.

I am moving out on Tuesday and security can go to hell! I have nothing left to steal!

The Turn Signal

And the old guy says, “In the old days, we fixed cars ourselves. There was nothing much to do, basically, anything that was wrong was solved by rebuilding the carburetor, a job that could be done in and hour or so with a kit from the Pep Boys (the US equivalent of Canadian Tire) for about $2.”


My left turn signal was fast flashing, signaling a burned out bulb. I checked it out and it was a front one. In the old days we could buy a bulb for under a dollar and replace it in about 15 minutes. If it was a headlight, it cost more but 15 minutes was the top time.

At 12:20 p.m. I docked the Queen Mary at my favorite neighborhood car fixit place and went in and said I had an emergency bulb repair. They told me no problem, and I went to Tim Horton’s, across the street and up a bit, for lunch.

I returned a while later and my car was on a lift. I watched it come down and be moved to a different lift and I began to get that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Why in the hell was my car on a lift! It had a burnt out bulb!

It turns out the only way to reach the bulb, which it took a while to locate after checking parts inventory on the computer, was using a lift. One had to dismantle a wheel well in order to reach the tiny, little, turn signal bulb.

It took about an hour and 15 minutes to do the job, with other snow tire jobs coming in before and after. There was, thank God, an old man who needed a left turn signal bulb in his Buick! Remember when we didn’t need snow tires any more after radials? And now we need them again. What’s a marketing ploy?

So, it wasn’t that bad, it cost $26 to change a bulb that should have cost about 15 cents in the old days.

Lets hope the right turn hold s out for a while longer.

I am confused by glassware

I am confused by glassware. As you can see, here are the glasses in our kitchen cabinet and in our hall cabinet. There are as well, at least two boxes of wine glasses, 12 in a box, in our storage room, for parties etc. We have red and white stemware wine glasses as well as red and white wine non-stemware glasses. We seem to have several types of champagne flutes and because we haven’t moved in eleven years, we seem not to be able to get rid of anything.

Wikipedia states: A wine glass is a type of glass stemware that is used to drink and taste wine. It is generally composed of three parts: the bowl, stem, and foot. Selection of a particular wine glass for a wine style is important, as the glass shape can influence its perception.

The traditionally held-to-be proper way to drink from a wine glass, especially when drinking white or otherwise chilled wine, is to grasp it by the stem. The most commonly accepted reasoning for this is to avoid fingerprints on the bowl, and to prevent the temperature of the wine from being affected by body heat.

Wine glasses made of fused or cut glass will often interfere with the flavor of the wine as well as creating a rough, thick lip, from which it is not as pleasurable to drink Blown glass results in a better vessel, with a thinner lip, and is usually acceptable for casual wine drinkers. High quality wine glasses are often made of lead crystal. Lead crystal glasses' advantages are not only primarily aesthetic. One factor of lead crystal is it is generally considered to have a higher index of refraction, thus changing the effect of light passing through them. Lead crystal is also rougher than glass on a microscopic level, allowing wine in the glass to breathe more efficiently when swirled in the bowl. They are also heavier. Using lead in the crystal matrix also offers several advantages in the material's workability during production. Wine glasses are generally not colored or frosted as this would impede the appreciation of its colour. An exception to this rule is the hock glass.

Wine glasses are generally considered to be fragile objects and can cause serious injury unless handled with great care.

The shape of the glass is also important, as it concentrates the flavor and aroma (or bouquet) to emphasize the varietal's characteristic. One common belief is that the shape of the glass directs the wine itself into the best area of the mouth from the varietal.

Generally, the opening of the glass is not wider than the widest part of the bowl.


Most wine glasses have stems, although "stemless" wine glasses are now available in a variety of sizes and shapes as well. These glasses are typically used more casually than their traditional counterparts, as they negate the benefits of using stemmed wine glasses.

Except to the wine connoisseur, wine glasses can be divided into three types: red wine glasses, white wine glasses, and champagne flutes. Wine tumblers (without stems) are also increasing in popularity.

Glasses for red wine are characterized by their rounder, wider bowl, which increases the rate of oxidation. As oxygen from the air chemically interacts with the wine, flavor and aroma are subtly altered. This process of oxidation is generally more compatible with red wines, whose complex flavors are smoothed out after being exposed to air. Red wine glasses can have particular styles of their own, such as

• Bordeaux glass: tall with a broad bowl, and is designed for full bodied red wines like Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah as it directs wine to the back of the mouth.

• Burgundy glass: broader than the Bordeaux glass, it has a bigger bowl to accumulate aromas of more delicate red wines such as Pinot Noir. This style of glass directs wine to the tip of the tongue.

White wine glasses vary enormously in size and shape, from the delicately tapered Champagne flute, to the wide and shallow glasses used to drink Chardonnay. Different shaped glasses are used to accentuate the unique characteristics of different styles of wine. Wide mouthed glasses function similarly to red wine glasses discussed above, promoting rapid oxidization which alters the flavor of the wine. White wines which are best served slightly oxidized are generally full flavored wines, such as oaked chardonnay. For lighter, fresher styles of white wine, oxidization is less desirable as it is seen to mask the delicate nuances of the wine. To preserve a crisp, clean flavor, many white wine glasses will have a smaller mouth, which reduces surface area and in turn, the rate of oxidization. In the case of sparkling wine, such as Champagne or Asti Spumante, an even smaller mouth is used to keep the wine sparkling longer in the glass.

Champagne flutes are characterized by a long stem with a tall, narrow bowl on top. The shape is designed to keep sparkling wine desirable during its consumption. Just as with wine glasses, the flute is designed to be held by the stem to help prevent the heat from the hand from warming the liquid inside. The bowl itself is designed in a manner to help retain the signature carbonation in the beverage. This is achieved by reducing the surface area at the opening of the bowl. Additionally the flute design adds to the aesthetic appeal of champagne, allowing the bubbles to travel further due to the narrow design, giving a far more pleasant visual appeal.

A sherry glass is drink ware generally used for serving aromatic alcoholic beverages, such as sherry, port, aperitifs, and liqueurs, and layered shooters.

So, when I go to get the morning orange juice glass, I invariably grab the improper glass for such a task. I usually take one of the kids IKEA plastic glasses (not shown as some of the glassware (or plastic ware) are in yet another cabinet.

When I am here alone for a period of time, which does happen several times a year when I get to be on “vacation”, a time when everyone else thinks they’re going on vacation and leaves me and Max, the Wonder Dog alone, I usually use one glass. It’s just right for diet coke, orange juice, gin and tonic and a beer. It saves on the dish washing as well!

(I will admit to also using a small, stemmed wine glass from time to time. )

Pissing in the Wind, as usual

This was a letter sent to my kid's elementary school principal and the Chairman of the School Council (PTA) seven years ago. It did no good, as usual, but it doesn't stop me from trying.


February 19, 2003


I know that I only have second hand information, but since this issue is going to go to a larger school community, I might as well chime in.

The idea, as I understand it, is a “treat free” school. This would imply a Halloween candy free school, a Valentine candy free school and probably a school fair devoid of the substances considered “harmful” by those espousing the righteous position of politically correct and currently up to date nutritionists. Gradually, the so-called “do gooders” of our world are taking over, by force, the process of some sort of majority opinion. If you are at a meeting, and are devoted to a cause, and loud enough, it seems you slowly lose those who cared at all and eventually you can hold all the cards.

So, my vote is for free choice. In a non-life threatening (immediately threatening as opposed to over many years this may not be good for you) situation, I will vote for cokes or doughnuts or candy bars. My non-healthy life style is my choice, and I have the right to choose a life style for my growing children. Until a product is made illegal by our elected government, it is not a bad thing to use.

I have understandably gone along with peanut free stuff in my own school, because it seems a correct stance. I still have a coke machine and a candy machine and use them myself, and derive a small income from both of these. I have never felt bad about either decision. I refuse to allow those well-meaning souls who spout the current line about health to ruin my day. This does not mean that I am not educated or understanding, it just means that I’ll do it my way.

Let us not lose the fun part of school attendance. Taking away some of the little things from the kids will not improve anyone’s view of the school. You will not change the behavior of the families because you choose to make a health decision for them. The slippery slope created will go from candy to packaged lunches like Lunchables, and maybe we can move on to nitrite laden products like bacon, bologna etc. Where will these “hawkers of the new health” stop.

Please make a stand. Let us as parents make our own decisions on how our children eat. Let us continue the enjoyment of our school (I know it’s not all wrapped up in candies) and let those who preach continue to do so from their own pulpits and not through the public schools.

Thank for listening,

Arthur

It makes me tired...

Seven year ago I wrote an email which said, “My daughter has a good friend who often spends time with us. Her parents are great people who are overly exuberant about real healthy activities and are always out biking, skiing etc. They are young by my standards, in their mid 40’s, but even in my elementary years I never had their energy.

On Saturday their daughter slept at our house where we made sushi, and did a video for their health class about the girls as sushi chefs. Her parents, there was a snow storm coming (in fact it was ongoing that evening), left alone, chose to go night skiing or hiking or something and came home in a five car caravan down unplowed highways at 3AM. On Sunday, they picked up the girls plus my other daughter and her friend and went snow tubing and sledding for a few hours.

I can’t look at them, it makes me tired."

Back to 2010: Last week we went out to dinner with all of them after they had done a multi-hour bike ride. We had great fun, and after dinner one of our friends became ill, and was at the point of passing out, but was able to recover, and we went on. It was dehydration and muscle spasms and who knows what, but I was able to just lumber along.

I don’t know, I love them, but just looking at them, makes me tired.

Rockin' In The Big Smoke

Three years ago my girls made arrangements (bought tickets at $35 each) to see Motion City Soundtrack, The Higher and two other bands (the names have escaped me but they were not their favorites, although the first two were) in Toronto at a venue called the Opera House. It’s in a somewhat disreputable part of the city. My wife and I had agreed to drive them (although I can’t imagine why). There was a major rain storm and it took 2 hours and 15 minutes to get there (and 45 minutes to get home ) and we left them standing in a line of younger people (bar age not high school age) and off we went.

We went out to dinner, toured the area a bit and returned to the neighborhood to wait. We decided to go to Starbucks and wait so we parked and walked. We met a group of drunks having a conversation, but didn't join them as we had no idea what they were saying. We continued walking and found Starbucks closed. My wife saw a donut shop back a ways and walked there, and it turned out to be inside a gas station. What a treat, coffee in the gas station, with a homeless guy in and out of the washroom. When hefinally left I had to use it, and when I was finished my wife had to use it as the women’s room seemed to be locked. We then hung out and shopped in the drug store and waited for the girls.


The girls stayed to buy t shirts and cd’s as we waited and watched everyone leave. We began to panic, but the girls eventually came out. They were talking with the lead singer of The Higher, who they love, and he told them he loves them because they bought t shirts and cd’s. The cd’s were only $5 with the t shirt so it was a good deal anyway. Motion City Soundtrack people were too high up to come out and sign cd’s for fans, I was told.

My little girls grow up (they were 13 and 16) and I was tired!

I had never heard of any of these groups before that day!

The Nose Knows

My slightly stressed wife went out one afternoon with my daughter and Max, the Wonder Dog. They left the house and had gotten two blocks when she tripped on a piece of pavement which had moved up into the atmosphere, and fell.

Having once broken her wrist in a bad skating accident, she remembered to save her arms, and fell straight onto her face. Her glasses hit the pavement and jammed into her nose, cutting it in several places, but not breaking it.

We stopped the bleeding and went to the hospital. The triage nurse and the doctor both had to investigate to see if I had beaten her. They had me leave the room so they could question her alone. I expected it, of course, as the world has changed, and there were posted signs all around the emergency room about abuse.

I passed all the tests, and there were several opportunities for them to ask her about my abuse. Instead of arresting, me they repaired her nose and sent her home.

Stitches and some black eyes were the result, and my neighbor has ordered a new lens for her glasses.

We went out for mid-east carry dinner to celebrate the completion of her ordeal.

Life is sure tough these days.

The offending pavement has finally been replaced.

A Tale of Two Urinals

On Saturday evening we attended the Hamilton Philharmonic’s presentation of

“Brahms & Mozart”, an evening consisting of:

Rossini Overture to Barber of Seville

Mozart: Oboe Concerto

Murphy: Black Sand (commissioned by the HPO)

Brahms: Symphony No. 2

It was a lovely evening with an attendance of probably 1,200 people.

On Sunday, we attended the Eastern Division Semi-Finals of the Canadian Football League featuring the Hamilton Ti-Cats vs. the Toronto Argonauts where the Toronto Argonauts took advantage of turnovers and battled their way to victory in the Eastern Semi-Final against Hamilton.

The attendance was about 26,000.

I visited the bathroom at both events, both of them at half-time (intermission at the Philharmonic, but it’s still half-time).

I waited at both events for the bathroom to clear, giving it about ten minutes. On Saturday evening, I waited for the elderly and infirmed to visit, including those gentlemen with walkers and canes. By the time I arrived at the urinal, I was the lone patron. I was in and out quickly, and no one was there to say anything to anyone.

On Sunday, after ten minutes the line was still a million miles long, and I was dying. Now I don’t want a beer in the cold, rainy afternoon, freezing in the stands, but no one else seems to mind. At least I saw no one pissing in the sinks or in the aisles, but it was bedlam in the room. There were lines, seven or eight guys deep waiting and lining up for urinals. For guys who used stalls, there were critics screaming as to how “that’s how women use the john, sit down and pee!” It got really rude in there, with loud cries of how it was time for peeing, not sightseeing! I could hardly stop laughing due to the continued banter!

The talk is about how we need a new stadium, and I know we’ll lose the rude hilarity and jocular humor we achieve in the old stadium, in the old neighborhood. I will miss this too, but if we really get enough bathrooms, I can probably add a few years on to the life of my old bladder!