May 2010 Archives

Interesting article in Friday's Globe about how food can impact on a budding relationship.  What you eat, what you order and how you eat it can tell your date a lot about what you're all about.

Now the article starts off with a man asking out a woman for dinner.  Fancy restaurant with all the bells and whistles and a wine list that could make a blush wine blush.  She looks at the menu and orders a steak.  She tells the server to she wants ketchup on the side.  The server cringed, the man cringed.  It was their first and last date.  He was was in his mid 20's and was in the habbit of dating older, more sophisticated women.  She was 19.  What the hell was he expecting.  There was no second date because her ketchup clashed with his panache. What was he thinking going all 5 star on a 19 year old.  Unless she grew up in a Fortune 500 family Boston Pizza or Montana's would be fine dining.  You can put ketchup on just about anything in those spots and look like a gastronomical guru.

Let me digress here for a moment.  I have real hang up about ketchup.  It is essential for a grilled cheese sandwich.  You can put it on hot dogs, hamburgers and french fries.  Ketchup is a lovely add to all things potatoes execept mashed.  I've tried it.  It does not work.  But I have a friend who puts ketchup on his sunny side up eggs.  That bothers me.  The yellow yolk and the red ketchup mingling on the plate. 2 semi liquids getting tangled together in a most unnatural way. Universes colliding!  My skin crawls.

I don't eat much meat anymore. I will make exceptions.  I tried tofu turkey on Thanksgiving.  That's never going to work. So for Christmas it was back to butter ball.  Instead of hamburg meat I'll have a soy burger.  Not as bad as you might think.  You put enough mustard on a soy burger you hardly notice the difference between your meal and the real deal.  But if you enjoy soy while your date is scarfing down a quarter pound of black angus chances are there's a self life to your new relationship.

First dates can be tough.  Rule of thumb.  First dates should always be lunch. It's sort of a long speed date. You've got an hour, hour and a half tops.  If it's not working you both have an excuse to bail even if you have nowhere to go.  Do that 9:30 on a Saturday night and you may as well put it in neon that "sure I'll give you a call" is how you're leaving things.

Lunch gives you an idea of what the person likes and dislikes and if this will be the first and last repast.  I have never had a first date meal, lunch or dinner, where my date or I finished everything on the plate.  The wine, yes.  The plate no.  I think it's nerves. 

Dining out is not always the deal killer. We tend to order things at Chez Cafe that we wouldn't make for ourselves at home.  Buying groceries for the first time is an indictor of their position on nutriton.  If they're pulling Hot Pockets out of the freezer section while you're in produce inspecting the organic vegetables I'm betting that this wont be a long term tryst.  And if you happen to spend the night and you're served eggs up with ketchup in the morning get out quick.  Universes are about to collide. 

Hot day, sticky day, humid day.  I hate days like this.  It put me in a bad mood and the last thing I wanted to do was go to the grocery store.  But duties must be done.  Here's what amazed me.  Twice, I was smiled at. For no reason.  I didn't know the other person.  They didn't know me.  They just smiled as we passed.

Now it was nice for me that both the smiles came from women.  That's something I find embarassing. I smiled back, put my head down, and kept moving. But I've always wondered what brings it on. Why smile at a stranger for no reason.  Are they flirting?  Probably not.  I go home, look in the mirror and know that no they weren't  flirting.  Maybe it's in their nature. Maybe it's the way they live their lives.  Smile at a stranger. No alterior motives, no "let's go get a drink somewhere", just a smile because it's who they are. 

I wonder sometimes if you should follow up on it. Maybe say something.  It might be fate. It might be kizmet.  Could this be the soul mate you never thought you'd meet?  But you leave it because it's just a nice gesture from someone who seems to be a nice person.  It's flattering and it's embarassing that they would pick you to smile at.  They might do it to every one but I don't want to know that.  It makes me feel special.  And when you're having a hot, sticky, crappy day it changes everything.

I have no idea who these 2 women were.  I will probably never see them again.  But they changed my day.  They made me feel better about myself.  It was a nice moment.  They will probably never read this but....thank you.

First thing I thought of when I heard that the NFL had awarded the 2014 Super Bowl to New York/New Jersey was...."That's very funny.  You're kidding, right?"  Apparently they're not.  Now I do understand why they want to play the game in the Big Apple.  New York, is afterall, New York.  And they'll have a brand new 1.6 billion dollar stadium up and running to show off. 

The Apple is the meida, entertainment and business capital of the the world, although a lot of those companies are owned by Japanese, Chinese and European multinationals.  It actually amazes me that the city that houses the financial institutions that banrupted the US economy has enough cash stashed to cover the cost of a billion and a half dollar play pen.

Thing is, the NFL doesn't need gimmicks. It's gold. The players play with diamonds on the soles of their cleats.  The Super Bow is platinum.  The most watched tv program annually.  This is a league that survies, no thrives, without a team in Los Angeles, number 2 on the American pop poll.  So why would play your showcase game in an open air stadium in February on the American east coast. 

Now I get a couple of New York stations on satellite and my US network outlets are from Boston.  I see the weather they get in February.  It makes Buffalo look like Tupelo.  But this really isn't about the folks in the stadium.  It's you and I sitting at home with our Super Bowl repast of pork rinds and chili dogs ready to watch the title tiff.  And that's 99 per cent of the audience.

Have you ever watched a tv game when it's snowing.   Make that blizzarding.  It's interesting, even though you have no idea what's going on between the end zones.  Neither can the announcers.  There was a time when  we were use to snow on tv.  That was back in the day before cable and sattelite. Snow was something you lived with if the wind blew the antenna an inch off kilter.  Saturday night, Maple Leaf games, the screen went snowy.  My father would look at my brother and I.  We'd flip a coin to see who was climbing on the roof to tilt the tin until it could pull in the signal again. Probably why I was never a Leaf fan. 

I also think your showcase game shouldn't be decided by the elements.  When Buffalo ruled the AFC (it actually happened in my life time kids) the great fear of the other teams was that the road to the Super Bowl was through Rich Stadium, in January.  Same deal with Green Bay.  You think teams from the US south wanted to book into Lambeau Field a couple of weeks after New Years?  But, the Bill and the Packers won the right to host the conference title games.  The Super Bowl is on neutral ground.  Why make it difficult?  You've got domes, you've got stadiums in the desert, you've got parks within spitting distance of the Gulf of Mexico.  Summer weather during a New York winter.  Why make it difficult on the players.  Why turn what should be an exciting game into a freeze fest.  Why take the finest athletes in the game and make them play in conditions that you'd only see outdoors on...well on Grey Cup Sunday in Edmonton, in November.  Okay, we're a tougher bunch up here. 

I just don't see the point in throwing the dice and turning what could have been the perfect game in perfect conditions into a perfect storm.  And you know it's going to happend.  Unless of course the NFL has some inside info on global warming and figure by 2014 they'll be growing oranges in East Orange and they'll have palm trees in Plassic.  You might want to be on hoare frost in Hoboken.

p.s. If you can get to Las Vegas place bets on:  Coldest kickoff temperature in Super Bowl history.  Shortest half time show in Super Bowl history.  Most frost bitten fingers in a quarter.  Least skimpiest cheerleader outfits in Super Bowl history.  Fewest body painters in Super Bowl history.  Most game day pregnancies in Super Bowl history.  You know something will be going on under those blankets.   

I don't understand out fascination with heat.  Heat like today and yesterday and tomorrow.  Just before I started writing this I checked f/b and Sandy Stiel wrote...she loves this heat.  Well that's just wrong. 

Actually it's not heat that bothers me.  It's sweating.  I don't mind a good sweat. But today wasn't a good sweat.  It was a superficial sweat, a faux sweat.  The most strenuous thing I did today was make a phone call while I was sitting outside in the shade. I was sweating while I was doing it. If all I'm doing is talking on the phone I don't want to ooze anything. 

Now there is a good sweat.  You can work up a good sweat at the gym, going for a run, heavy petting (not in a dog way, in an amorous way), or working outside.  It's something you take pride in.  You know, sweat streaming down your face and that one little bead rolls down and sits on the end ouf your nose.  You cross you eyes to watch it and you don't motion until that tiny dangling fruit of your labour  finally cascades to the ground.  It's something you're proud of.  Something you brag to your friends about.  A story to pass down to your grandchildern.

I've been watching my pets today (animal pets).  Cats get it, dogs don't.  The dog has been running around for a good part of the afterrnoon playing frisbee with her self and working up a lather.  The cats?  They know better than the dog when it's a dog day afternoon. They don't have the notion to motion.

You know we spend billions of dollars a year on antipersperants to make sure we don't sweat. So what are we doing going where only mad dogs and Englishmen would go.  Out in the midday sun, lathered up with sun screen sitting partially nude while we exude.

Tiger Wood's fortune has been estimated as high as 1.2 billion dollars and as low, I can't believe I'm actually going to write this, as low as 600 million.  And just about in between is the good wife, Elin is in line to get 750 million dollars!  There's some discussion if that's her demand or his offer.  Either way if she gets it that would be the biggest hit ever in a celebrity divorce settlement.

No chance of a reconciliation. Infact Tiger has already moved on. He's been seen at his home  in Florida practicing his game with a striking young lovely sitting in his golf cart.  While he's striking balls, she bears a striking resemblance to his soon to be ex. 

Now, there's a hitch to all of this.  Word is Tiger wants Elin to sign a confidentiality agreement that would stop her from ever giving up the goods on Woods.  So far she's said she wont agree to his surreptitous wishes. If she wins this one it means she can do interviews, write a book, finance a moive.  Who knows, maybe a sit-com?  They can call it "Woody". 

'Course what Elin could have done was the tried and true spray paint his car.  I actually saw that happen once.  I was sitting in a restaurant in Mississauga across from a couple of office buildings.  A car pulled in, 2 women got out, both with cans of spray paint. They kryloned the guy's Beemer with "cheat", "pig" and some other very inventive 4 letter words.

I also knew a guy who was having an affair.  Worst kept secret ever.  He flaunted it. He figured he could get away with it.  One Sunday his wife told to take the day off, go out with the guys and have a good time.  Too good to true he thought.  It was.  When he got home the house was empty.  Wife took a hike.  She also took their 2 kids and all the furniture. Just to rub it in a little deeper,  make it sting a little longer, just to make him feel her pain, it was Father's Day. Going home to an empty house took on an entirely new meaning.

Here's what I don't get about Tiger.  He's already supposedly paid off up to 15 women to keep it zipped.  Something he should have thought about before he got into one sticky quickie after another.  Maybe those bribes, and let's be honest they are bribes, may have been doled to the dollies to save his marriage, his reputation and his endorsements.  But if he's actually offering 750 million US to Elin for his nuputal no-no's, what the hell is he hiding?

We've heard the rumours about kinky sex, rough sex, 3 ways sex.  Is there more.  Are there other strange things that his estranged wife knows and might mutter to the media? On any given weekend Tiger is given a pretty good chance of winning just about any tournament he's in.  I don't know that he's going to win this one. 

You know the quote.."Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned".  That's not the entire passage.  It begins..."Heaven hath no rage like love turned to hatred."

There's a poll in The Toronto Star by the World Wildlife Fund that wants to know what you would give up before you gave up your car.  Junk food ranked high, coffee, TV and although it was a small number, 2% said they'd give up sex before they'd give up their car.  

Here's the problem for men who live in Ontario.  More people in this province would rather pull out of the copulation station than scrap their sedan.  And more shes than hes would keep their keys and just say no to sex than in any other province.  So you might want to rethink that job offer you got in Yellowknife.

I've talked with women who said it's not a contest, chocolate is better than sex.  Others say no chance.  So, on the off chance the situation should arise I always carry a couple of bon bons with me.  'Cause you never know.

Some people would give up sex for food, although it you saw "9 1/2 Weeks" you can actually have it both ways.  Go rent the movie and jog your memory.  Would you give up sex for a "boy's night out".  Well, if the boys were honest they'd admit that's why they're out.

I hear a alot of people, mostly women, who say they'd give up sex for a good night's sleep.  I've had women tell me I'm dreaming if I think we'll end up in bed together but I don't think that's the same thing.   

'Course it all depends on who's doing the sampling.  I've seen polls that show more people would give up sex than give up their cell phones.  If you're selling jewelry I'm sure you could find a pretty good percentage of people who would keep their bling and forget the fling.  You could probably get a survey from the "Association of Divorce Lawyers" that said their survey showed 30 % of the pollees said they would give up marriage for sex.  Actually the percentage might be higher on that one.

I'm sure you can skew the numbers  to show that people would resist a tryst for just about anything.  Just 2 % would put the nix on nooky before they'd give up their car.  Sex or the sedan?  Actually if you find the right secluded spot you could have both. 

Every now and then you run across an article that makes you smile.  Gives you new hope.  Lets you know that as bad as you are at something there's an upside.   Saw this one the other day..."Being Bad At Relationships Is Good For Survival".  It was on LiveScience.com.

Here's the premise.  People who are good at relationships are optomistic about life.  They don't look at things negatively.  Their world is safe.  Sounds peachy keen doesn't it?  (peachy keen?)  Ah, but here's the dilemma.  These people tend to react slowly to problems.  Their rose coloured glasses get fogged up.  What could go wrong?  Not just with their relationships. With everything.

The article made the point that people who are good at relationships didn't smell smoke as quickly as people who are bad at relationships. Okay, maybe they had a cold but the research showed that people who dis the bliss are more inclined to see the downside of the situation.  They react faster to the warning signs. 

This is good news for me.  I've had several, what you could term, major relationships in my life. None ended well. 

All 4 of them had a "get to know you" period.  You know, first you move in a toothbrush, then you get your own underware drawer, then you're allowed to stack beer in the fridge, bring over your flat screen, eat over the sink, stack your comic books on the book shelf, bring over your bean bag chair but not your friends. That's your choice, not her's. You can be yourself around your friends.  That's a side you don't want to show....just yet.   

Sometimes I blame my mother for putting a hex on my co-habitation probation. To her I was wandering through Dante's Inferno.  She would tell me..."You'd better not live together, it's a sin...no good can come of it".  She was clarivoyant, an augur, an oracle.  I should have known not to quibble with a sibyl. She called it. 

But from those negatives, comes a positive.  Being bad at relationships is good for survival.  You may be locked in wedded bliss but chances are I'll see the truck run the red light before you will.  I'll be looking for something to go wrong.  The research says you'll be slower to react. 

'Course I have no idea if this article is valid.  But I'll take it.  Maybe even live longer than those kids from "Fame". 

I'm fascinated by the story I heard on the news this morning about a woman suing Rogers because they bundled her private phone with the family phone without letting her know.  The bill comes in the mail.  Her husband opens it and sees some very long calls to a number he doesn't recognized.  So he called it.  After a bit of digging he found out his wife was having an affair.  She's suing Rogers for 600 grand.  It's a breach of privacy.  She says it's ruined her life.

Let's take a time out here for some breaking news.  If you're having an affair you've pretty much veered off the marital path.  You've pulled in to the temptation station of ruination.

I was interested in the reaction I got after I posted this story on face book.  Rogers was in the wrong, according to some, for breaching the woman's privacy.  But the majority of the people blamed her.  Mostly for being dumb.  And by being dumb she got caught. 

I'm willing to bet that up to 80% of the people who cheat on their partners get nailed.  That's nailed as in get caught. You might get away with a one night stand but not much chance you're going to beat the odds with a long term affair and you might expect your  partner will get a little cranky with your hanky panky.

Unexplainable credit card bills.  Leaving your email page open.  Too many out of town trips.  Showering as soon as you get home.  A sudden interest in oysters.  You start wearing  turtlenecks to bed.  Going to the store for milk turns into a 5 hour marathon.  New hair.  New clothes.  New underware.  New computer password.  Change your cell phone number.  It's a never ending list of ways to get found out. 

Getting bundled by Rogers is a new one for me.  That's connection detection.  Is Rogers to blame?  Well if they did without her okay they probably are.  But ultimately Rogers just put one and one together.  No wait, that was already going on.  Rogers just connected the dots. It's like anyone who gets dinged in a fling.  Focus the blame anywhere but on yourself.

600 grand for a ruined life?  Okay, then what's it worth to her husband?

I haven't wanted to wade into the controversey at the Newmarket OSPCA.  The situation where a good number of cats and dogs have been put down and hundreds of others were about to have their tickets punched because of an outbreak of ringworm.  Human error and politics. 

This hits a little to close to home for me because my home is a cat house.  Not that kind of cat house!  What I've done over time is take in cats.  Some are from shelters but most are strays.  Barn cats, feral cats and drop offs.  Not drop offs in a nice way. I live on a concession road.  Every now and then a car will stop, a person gets out, opens the rear door, a dog or cat jumps out and the car pulls away leaving their pet in alien territory. I don't hate a lot of things. I loathe these people.  

Some of the cats I've taken in are way too people friendly to be barn cats or feral cats.  They want your affection right away. Feral cats take time.  Junior Barnes took 3 years before I could touch him.  Jessie took 6 years before she finally jumped on my lap. Shadow was rubbing my leg the moment he showed up and where ever I went, he went.  Ergo the name Shadow.  But Shadow belonged to someone. 

I've lost a couple of cats on the road and there are coyotes in the area.  So I turned the garage into a rec room/cat room and they elected me the maven of the kitty haven.  I also fenced the property.  Makes it safe for them and I can sleep at night.

All of the cats are spayed and neutered.  I don't want kitty kudos for that.  But I can't stress enough, spay and neuter your pets.  You see a tom cat hanging around your cat flap smoking french cigarettes and wearing an ascott, he's not there for a bowl of milk. He wants to deflower your sweet little Fluffy.  I have friends who live in the city who feed stray cats.  They tell me that 6 months later the cat shows up with kittens.  I think it would be cost effective to catch the kitty, take it to the vet and have it fixed.  I know it can cost a bit but maybe you talk with the neighbours and you can all kick in for the nip and tuck.  2 young female cats can become 20 young cats pretty quickly.

Some people will tell you they're just animals.  True.  But everyone of my cats has it's own personalty.  As I'm wiriting this Izzy has himself drapped over my right arm.  He's sleeping. Roxy is watching what I'm doing from arm of the couch and Leon has his paws on my left thigh.  Every time I go into the washroom Kramer follows me, walks over to the toilet and starts yapping.  I lift the seat, he jumps up, I flush and his head goes around in sync with the water as it goes down the drain.  Show over, he jumps off and leaves. He's a cheap date.

Cats will ignore you for hours. I get the same treatment from people so I'm used to that.  But then the cat is all over you, looking for affection. Simon just jumped on the couch, drapped himself over my left arm and he's starring into my eyes.......... 7yoruwqsosiyqoq...sorry he just walked across the key board.  Everyone of  them has their peculiar fancies, fetishes and foibles, eccentricities and idionsycracies.  

A pet comes with responsibilities. It is not a throw away item. It's not disposable. 

Just animals?  Sure they are.  But so are we.

Spay and neuter, neuter and spay.

The Montreal Canadiens have accomplished something that will put them in hockey history books.  This team is a shadow of the great clubs that established the Habs the premier franchise in the game's history. But what they've done in these playoffs is what legands are made of.  First K-O the best team in the NHL, Then this 8th place wanna-be eliminates the defending Stanley Cup champs.  The Habbies didn't just beat Pittsburg in game 7.  They embarassed the Pengies who were at home, with more talent and with the best player in the game in their lineup.

So...what are we talking about a day later.  Riots in the streets.  What turned into a celebration ended with a pack of neo-Luddites looting St. Catherine Street.  I realize that it was a  very small portion of the wave of fans who poured outside to honour  the blue, blanc, rouge but there were enough to form a cretin meetin' and embarass the city.

Now they say the rioters and looters were mostly male, mostly young and mostly drunk.  Hey I've been young, drunk and stupid.  I'm only one of those 3 things now.  But never once did it cross my mind to smash a store window, to pillage a village, to torch a car, to throw a Corona at a cop. 

I love the old line.."If this is what they do when their team wins, what the hell would they do if they're team lost?"  I'm willing to bet nothing.  Your team loses you're more sad than mad, Your team wins and it's "PARTY".  They turn what should be unbridled bliss into Sherman's march to the sea. 

Rioting by the poor, the disposessed, the wrongly persecuted is understandable.  Rioting for the sake of rioting is something I've never understood. Not even when I was young, drunk and stupid.

Oh, and a note to all you Habbie haters.  The Canadiens didn't steal game 7.  That was a legitamate win against a team that's supposed to have the makings of a dynasty.  The Penguins were out played, out goaltended, out coached and out hustled when it mattered most.  You can dislike the Canadiens all you want.  But give them their props for this one.

The NHL has a plan. I know, you're agog. A league that deludes itself into thinking it can sell hockey in southern US markets where icing a tea makes more sense than icing a puck. The Phoenix Coyotes might be set to pack up their gear and head back to where they came from, Winnipeg.

The league has a contingency plan that would have the prodigal son come home...with a schedule in place, a move to the North West Division, an owner, an arena and. although Gary Bettman will hate to admit it, fans that actually want to see hockey, will pay for it, understand that Miroslav Satan is not the Anti-Christ and boarding has nothing to do with getting on an train.

5 years ago I would have said...this is insanity. Today not so much. Betteman's grand scheme of taking hockey into alien territory makes the Donner Party look like a success story. The intentions were good. The idea was to blanket the US with teams in every major market to make it palatable to American television. Visions of a legal tender bender had them setting up shop in places that didn't know, didn't want and wasn't about to learn hockey.

Carolina? High School Basketball gets more attention. Tampa? The beach or the Boltz? Not much of a choice. Atlanta, Nashville, Miami, Phoenix. They aint buying what your selling. Columbus is a struggle, The Islanders are teetering.

So, if the great unwashed in those cities refuse to get into a shower of ice chips take the game to fans who will. Winnipeg has a 15 thousand seat arena. Cozy by NHL standards. But better to have a sell out in Manitoba every night than 6 or 7 thousand in Miami where they think "full house" is some crappy old Bob Saget sitcom.

It's time Betteman and minions read "Hockey for Dummies". I've always thought the NHL was missing a lucrative opprotunity by not setting up a 5 team division in Europe. That's another debate for another date. This is a "gate driven" league. So take the game to where the people want it. Winnipeg. Quebec City. Hamilton, although I'm not convinced it should be downtown. Put the arena where it's easy access from the Hammer, Kitchener/Waterloo, Cambridge, Burlington, Oakville, Niagara and Guelph.

Hockey is no joke in the Big Smoke. This area can support not 2 but 3 NHL teams. Downtown Toronto, suburban Hamilton, and Vaughn. The population is here. The interest is here. The demand for tickets is here.

What's the point in pitching your tent in cities where the NFL, NBA, Major League Baseball, NASCAR, college basketball, highschool basketball, highschool football, college football, cow tipping, frogging, moonshining, and gator baiting have bigger followings than hockey.

The NHL has to get it's head out it's butt. Grasp the reality. If Mohammad wont got to the Mountain take the mountain to Mohammad.

Well, something new to keep the boys home on a Saturday night.  The June issue of Playboy will include the usual centerfold but this time in 3D.  No, that's not triple D, it's 3D.   They say the inmates at the Playboy mansion were inspired by Avatar.  The magazine's head honcho of horny Hugh Hefner asked himself quizicly..."What would most people like to see in 3D?"  To which he answered..."Probably a naked lady".  In other words, more than words are going to jump off the page.

'Course the big reason Hef wants to make it feel like it's real is because of plummeting sales of Playboy.  I mean just about any night of the week you can channel surf through the movie network...stop...and say...what the hell was that. Then you go back just to make sure what you thought you saw was is what you saw.  It was...and you say..."how do they do that?"

I don't buy Playboy, not even for the articles.  By the way if you buy that nonsense from any guy who tell  you they only read the articles then you believe that person at work who tells you they only watch PBS and then spends the rest of the day discussing "Extreme Make Over" and "The Biggest Loser".

There are enough of us sitting home alone on Saturday night.  We know who we are.  Every time we try to "chat" with someone on f/b they go off line.  But now for the guys and I would imagine the odd woman (and I don't mean odd in an odd way) out there Playboy is going to provide you with a new weekend time killer. We get to have our own biggest losers.

It's the guys who live in their parent's basement, collect comic books, and want the new G I Joe for their 40th birthday who will embrace this, literally and figurtively.  They'll start their own Playboy 3D cult.  They'll have their own language and their own list of favourites:

Favourite athlete:  Booby Orr.

Favourite singer;  Michael Booblay.

Favourite song:  "Thigh Me A River".

Favourite book:  Alice In Wonder Bra

Favourite movie character:  Boobafet

Favourite retail outlet:  Breast Buy

Favourity band:  Booty and The Blowfish

Favourite saying:  "Boobs your uncle."

Favourite goaltender:  Ron Tugnutt

Favourite holiday destination:   Lake Titicaca

Now, you know there's a real chance some of these guys are going to fall in love with their new 3D fallacious friend.  It's bound to happen. Here's a bulletin, women, even women with a 3D pedigree, seldom make passes at men wearing 3D glasses, 

'Course that wont stop these lasivious loners so you know damn well someone's going to lose an eye.

Steve Nash. If you saw him Sunday night in the Phoenix - San Antonio NBA playoff game you had to be pretty impressed.  Second half, he took a shot just above the eye from Tim Duncan.  The blood flowed, he left the game, took 6 stitches over the eye and came back.  He came back and he played.  No, he more than played. He paced the Suns to a win and a 4 game series sweep. Phoenix wasn't supposed to win this series, let alone sweep it.

Nash says he couldn't see in the fourth quarter.  The injured eye was closed shut. That's critical for a guy like Nash because he's all about vision. Still, with half his normal eye sight he came back with 10 points and 5 assists. 

They say Einstien could see light.  Ted Williams could see the seams on a 100 mile an hour fast ball.  Motzart didn't just write notes, he could see the notes.  Gretzky knew where his teammates were going be before they did.  Vision, anticipation.  Their world moves in slow motion. They see things we can't.  That's how Steve Nash plays basketball.

Every now and then you're lucky enough to work with someone like Nash. They don't just see the forrest they see every tree.  The get it.  They see the big picture.  They make the people around them better.  They take as much pleasure from your success as their success. They're team players in the truest sense of the word.

When some people hear the old line..."There's no "I" in team", they'll think to themselves...maybe so but there is a "m-e".  We've all seen that attitude. 

Someone once said about Nash..."How much money you think he's made for his tammates?"  Players who have left Phoenix with big reputations which they parlay into fat contracts.  Problem is once Nash isn't around dishing them the ball....not so good anymore.

Nash amazes me. He's special. I would love to be able to do what he does.  But hey...I'm a 6-1 white guy from Canada who can't jump.  Wait a minute, Nash is a 6-1 white guy from Canada who can't jump!  Okay...I know they have him listed at 6-3...but if Nash is 6-3...then I'm built like Hugh Jackman.  Okay...let him be 6-3.  Call me Wolverine...I've been called a wolverine before....and...other 4 legged animals.

Went to see my mom on Mother's Day.....

I wont bore you with the details.....

As I was leaving she gave me a hug, kissed me on the cheek and said..."Rick I love you...don't ever forget that." 

I wont.

You may have seen this before.  It's worth another read.  Thanks to Debs for sending it to me.  Thanks to Torontomike for being my techie guru.

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On her radio show, Dr. Laura Schlesinger (a popular conservative radio
talk show host in the USA) said that homosexuality is an abomination
according to the Bible Leviticus 18:22, and cannot be condoned under
any circumstance. The following response is an open letter to Dr.
Laura, penned by James M. Kauffman, Ed. D. It's funny, as well as
informative.
_______________________
Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I
have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that
knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend
the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that
Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination... end of
debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other
elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and
female, provided they are purchased from neighbouring nations. A
friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not
Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in
Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair
price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in
her period of menstrual unseemliness - Lev. 15: 19-24. The problem is
how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offence.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a
pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev. 1:9. The problem is my neighbours.
They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
5. I have a neighbour who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus
35:2. clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated
to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an
abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than
homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees'
of abomination?
7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I
have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading
glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room
here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair
around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev.
19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes
me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two
different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing
garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester
blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really
necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town
together to stone them? Lev. 24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to
death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep
with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy
considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can
help.
Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Few days ago Fred Patterson blogged about a question he had heard on the radio.  "How long before it's acceptable to fart in front of your mate?"  Fred admitted he did it early on in his relationship then went on to explain his fascination with flatuation and what a wonderful and understanding wife he has.  She must be!

Bringing up the rear, so to speak, on that was a f/b link today posted by Chris Kennedy.  It's for "The Better Marriage Blanket"...The blanket that absords farts.   According to the blurb farting is one of the leading causes of divorce in America.  The Better Marriage Blanket contains active carbon fibers which will "filter out odor badness".  I've never heard the back door burp refered to as odor badness before but I think we all get the drift.

I know we're just a decade in but if this thing works it could be the invention of the century. Do you realize how many marriages it could save.  God, do you realize how many of my marriages it might have saved! 

Now, I don't mind a good fart joke.  When I did the Sunday Funnies one of the shows that got the biggest reaction was a full hour about nothing but the vulgar vapour.  When I was a kid my mother used to call them "putt putts". Say that today and you'd figure that Tiger Woods needed 2 shots on the 17th green to save par,

The word fart comes from the middle english "ferten". That word is still used in parts of the southern US.  "What's Bubba Joe doin' over there?"...."He's ferten'..he had chili for lunch". Speaking of lunch, I had no idea that peanut butter was a flatulent.  Peanuts are legummes and legummes will make you pass the gas longer and louder than most other things your mom packed in your lunch bag.  So it finally made sense that the last class of the afternoon smelled like my gym locker.  25 kids firing off air biscuits in a class room while they're trying to read Great Expectations with no expectations of making it trough the final 15 minutes. 

Now, I'm no expert but I have noticed that dogs will let go with a butt bark  and immediately leave the room.  Speed of light, speed of sound, speed of fart.  You hear the sound but don't appreciate the essence of it for several seconds. In the mean time your mutt managed to avoid the results of it's vapor caper.

From experience it would seem that women are less flatulent than men. Can women actually do what men think is anatomically impossible and hold it in?  If they can wouldn't they become inflatuated with it?  Truth is women can't re-route the toot.  Research shows that men and women have an equal amount of gas.  Women seem to be able to some how disguise their booty bombs.  For men it's the art of the fart.  We brag about it. 

The Better Marriage Blanket?  Do it for him.  Do it for her.  Do it for your relationship.  Just don't lift the covers. 

Do you remember the Weird Al song "Living With A Hernia"?   Let me start at the beginning.  A few years ago I bought 45 hundred pounds of rock.  Had it loaded on the back of my truck, drove it home and in a fit of macho madness decided I'd unload it myself.  Not just unolad it myself but unload it and then move it.

A few hours into my labours of Hercules I felt a little..."twang".  That's odd. Never had a feeling like  that before.  Hmmm, no big deal.  I was a stoner (not that kind of a stoner!) and there was stone to move.  Few days later as I stripped down to get into the shower...(settle down it's not a pretty sight)...when I notiiced something.  An illusion or a protrusion?  My God, my innie was an an outie! 

Now I realize that hernias aren't uncommon and I know a lot of people who have had hernia operations.  But I had no idea what this navel node was.  My first thought was........"could this be like the moive "Aliens"?  Was an ET going to burst from my button?"  No Sigourney Weaver to protect me, comfort me, give me succor and possibly a big hug and tell me..."don't worry...I'll take care of the little critter."

I actually didn't know what it was.  So for the longest time I tried to forget it was there.  When I did notice it...I tried to tuck it back in.  Didn't work. It was like a Jack in the Box. Sooner or later pop goes the navel. 

Earlier this week I felt the twinge again.  Then pain.  Then agony. Then torment.  The pain started in my knees, went up through my stomach and stopped at my rib cage.  I put my head down on the island in the kitchen and had a little debate with myself.  Given the choice. of a migraine, an absessed tooth, the Spanish Inquisition or this heinous hernia, which would you choose?  Funny what goes through your mind.  Dr. Kevorkian became an option.

You can't stand up straight. You can't walk. You can't sit. You can't lay down. Well you can but not without a life time of pain.  I finally sat down on a couch in the back part of the house where most of my cats live.  I may have mentioned in previous blogs that I have more than a few cats.  I love them all but when I sit on the couch it's like throwing a magnet into a bag of nails.  They sit on your lap, they lay on your shoulder. They drape themselves over your thighs.  You know that little thing cats do with their paws.  I call it making their bed.  Some call it kneading. Well after one of them kneeded my stomach I needed, no I pleaded for salvation.

I'm not a religious person but I must admit, I prayed and then I made a doctor's appointment. When she was examining me I told her.."I think I have a hernia".  She said..."let me see".  I did and she actually gave it a poke and told me..."Yep that's a hernia".  I've been booked in for surgery but not for another month.  In the mean time I've got Weird Al playing on my iPod and I've put in a call to Sigourney Weaver.  Because you just never know what might pop up, or out. 

You know on the info page of facebook where they have a spot for "favourite quotations"?  Well I read one today that said "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all".  We've all heard it.  It's attributed to both Alfred Lord Tennyson and Samuel Butler.  "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all".  I don't know that I agree.

If you've never loved, you can't know what might be lost.  If you've loved and lost there's a pretty good chance you'll carry a torch. I've done it. After a while you wish you hadn't taken that bite from the forbidden fruit. 

Love is a strange master.  You can lose the lover but not the love. You can lose love but not the lover.  Staying with each other long past love's due date.  I've done that too. 

There's another quote on love I find interesting.  "There is love of course...and then there's life...it's enemy".  How often have relationships failed because the reality of day to day life gets in the way? 

We too often confuse love with infatuation. Yes...done that one too.  It sets off a pyrotechnic panorama in your brain worthy of Vesuvius.  It's not true love.  It's an obsession.  And obsessions can be dangerous to both parties.  You tend to forget the important things in your life like eating, sleep, jobs, family and friends.  How many times have you had a friend you see all the time suddenly fall off the radar because they're in a new, all consuming relationship?  Focus on your ardor and before you know it you're knee deep in lust. Once you discover the lust is a bust your friends have moved on without you.  

I've never quite understood how you can profess you love someone, break up, and then claim to hate them.  They've played with your emotions, betrayed your trust, they've turned love into hate. No, you have. If you can switch in on and off that quickly did you ever truly love that person?  You may have been in love with the idea of being in love but were you in love with them? 

G K Chesterson said "The way to love anything is to realize it might be lost".  I don't agree with that either. That sounds like love out of desperation.  Your hope is not to lose what you love.  That's fear.

At best love, or atleast heading down that road, is a gamble.  It's a high risk game.  I know there are many, many couples who have rolled the dice and it's worked.  My parents, for more than 60 years now.  But not everyone can be that lucky.

Love consumes us. Our history is littered with love stories from the epic "Iliad" to an episode of "Dharma and Greg".  Okay bad example. An episode of "The Bachelor".

"It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"?   I'm still wrestling with that.  Is it worth the gamble?  Well...as Ian Tyson sang in "Summer Wages"...."Never hit 17 when you play against the dealer..."

The whining, barking, complaining, grousing, groaning, growling and griping about the NHL playoffs absolutely amazes me.  Your favourite team gets eliminated and all of sudden they're a pack of underchieving bums and it never would have happened if it had been for devine intervention on the part of the other team.

I don't have favourite teams any more.  I use to when I was a kid.  I remember my brother and I were sitting in the living room watching a Canadiens - Maple Leaf game.  He was an itty bitty Bud backer.  I bled the rouge, blanc, bleu.  Leafs beat Habs...and I actually cried.  Probably because my brother got bragging rights and I had to eat crow, although you can turn it into an alamande corbeau and it's really not that hard to get down.

I have watched more playoff hockey this year than I have in my entire adult life.  Don't have to get up in the wee hours these day to get to work which means I can stay up late with the big kids.  It's been 5 months of,....every night's a Saturday night.

At the beginning of each playoffs in the big 4 sports I like to pick an underdog.  A team that has no right winning anything.  NBA: Oklahoma City.  NHL:  Phoenix and Colorado.  I cheered for New Orleans during the Super Bowl even though I thought The Colts would smoke them.  Instead Indy became the somkee.

The bitching that came out of the Washington-Monteral series blew me away.  Long time Washington fans were wimpering that their Caps were saps and of course the Habbies had horseshoes planted squarely up their collective kiesters. It's this simple.  Ovechkin and his, all of sudden, crappy Cappies ran broadside into a hot goalie.  It was a classic drive by.  No one saw it coming. 

I don't understand the dislike and in some cases hatred for Sidney Crosby.  Washington fans want to see Pittsburg clock the Canadiens.  Habs fans want Sid the Kid pilloried.  He's a yapper, he's a moaner, he's a whiner.  And he is.  So was Mario Lemieux and Gretzky.  Skill players whine because every time they hit the ice they get mugged.  You'd bitch about it too.

Some times sports works like this...the other team actually played better than your team.  Sport is about mistakes.  The goalie guesses wrong...whoops...goal!  In the Washington-Montreal series...Halak guessed right. In theory the Canadiens have no business being where they are.  Theory looks good in a physics lab...not so much on the ice.

I was talking with a local Toronto athlete years ago.  We were discussing the impact his team had on the city.  It was considerable.  But I said to him..."if you guys win..or loose it really doesn't matter to me.  It doesn't raise my taxes, I still have to get up for work in the morning, it has no bearing on the health of my kids.  I realize it's your job and your reputation's at stake but really in the grand design...it doesn't impact on my life".  He understood.  And that's the way I look at sport.  Entertain me for 3 hours and I'm a giddy kitty.

But for a lot of fans cheering for their team is a love - hate relationship.  They use you, they abuse you and you keep coming back for more because...maybe this time it will work.  Maple Leaf fans spend hours each day venting about their local heroes.  Come Saturday night, there they are, sitting infront of their flat screen, wearing their Wendal Clark jersey with a bowl of pork rinds and of course a "Bud" lite figuring tonight's...the night...they'll get it right.  They don't, they yank your heart strings.  Will you be back next Saturday?  Damn straight you will.

A lot of fans need to chill and take a pill.  Hey, your team lost.  Get over it.  Move on.  I did. 'Course not wanting a second helping of crow had a lot to do with that.

Why...

..is it that Wal Mart restocks its shelves during peak hours?  Blocked isles.  Blocked shelves.  Big store.  Biggest private employer in the world.  Couldn't they do this at 2 in the morning?  And why do they have to put display shelves in the middle of aisles? This isn't Jarvis street.  Only room for one customer with one shopping cart.  They've turned it into 4pm on the Don Valley,

Why,,,,.

....aren't aisle and isle spelled the same way?

I can't...

...force myself to buy groceries in a department store (Wal Mart again)...and I can't force myself to buy clothes in a grocery store (Zehr's up here, Loblaws down there).  Just doesn't feel right.

Why...

....does the Kentucky Derby, which calls itself the fastest 2 minutes in sport, need a 3 hour show to get it done? 

How come...

...they don't let kids review kids' movies?  They're not made for adults.  We don't need the insight of cinematic minutiae from some 40 something critic when all the target audience wants to know is.....was it funny?

Have you noticed....

...that the number of Tim Horton's cups on your road goes up by a factor of 10 when they put one in your neighbourhood?  They opened one in the town to the south of me. The road looks like a caffine junkies' crib.  Here's what you do. Go through Tim's drive thru.  Drink you're coffee. Leave the empty cup in the cars' cup holder. When you go back the next day...and you will...you put the cup in the garbage and buy another one.  It's Tim Horton's wheel of life. It's cup's the great Mandala.

Don't....

....install a low flow toilet.  You'll get use to having to hold the flusher down for longer than normal.  But..if you have a pary and try to explain that to friends they wont get it.  So you spend the night running into the bathroom to make sure you don't have an iffey biffy when the next guest goes in. Been there, done that.....all night.

What the hell were they thinking....

...LeBron James wins the NBA's MVP award.  It was one of the biggest margins of victory ever.  He was a landslide winner. There was no discussion.  2 voters had LeBron...not second..which I could live with...but third on their ballots.  These 2 bucket bozos must have their press passes taken away.  Hence forth they will cover men's synchronized swimming...which is not a recognized sport yet..so they wait and think about what they've done.

Why we need to thin the herd....

...the Kardasians.  I don't know their names...I don't know how many there are.  But there are too many of them...and I don't know what they do...but...they must be stopped! 

Cut the grass 4 days ago.  Got up this morning and there was more yellow than green.  The lawn is covered with dandelions.  Now some deep thinkers say that if life on earth ceased to exist cockroaches would some how manage to survive.  But not alone. They'll have to share the planet with dandelions. 

Couple of years ago I had my driveway black topped.  The following spring there was a dandelion growing on it.  No dirt. It grew. How did it do it?  The property next to me is a farmers field.  Every year he roatates his crop.  Wheat, corn, soy beans.  One year I thought, "this is strange he's growing mustard plants". Nope.  Dandelions had taken over all 140 acres. Right now the field is a sea of yellow. If you bored a hole to the center of the earth you would find dandelions.  The sun?  An ocean of flames?  No. An ocean of dandelions. 

It's like trying to stop rabbits from getting busy with each other.  When I put down a stone path I also put down double sheeting and lime stone.  No use. I have one dandelion per square inch growing through my weed wall.  You end up feeling like Wile E Coyote.  The damn bird paints a tunnel on the side of rock and you run into it.  Then the train comes through and flattens you.  But you keep trying.  It's obsessive.  The little yellow fellow becomes you're white whale.

I think it might be  time we made peace with the dandelion.  When I was in highschool I had a friend whose father made dandelion wine which we called Nuevo Diente De Leon because we had all taken grade 10 Spanish and wanted to impresse the girls. Once a year he'd swipe a gallon jug and mayhem ensued along with hangovers, headaches, vomiting and the spins.  I learned early that the dandelion can be a dangerous foe.

You can make coffee out dandelions. You can eat them. The plant is rich in vitamins A and C.  It contains vitamins K and H.  I didn't know there were vitamins K and H.  Dandelions are full of surprises. The leaves are good for liver detox which of course helps the long term effects of dandelion wine.

So why fight it?  As of today I'm declaring the dandelions on my property...flowers.  Beautiful yellow flowers. Minitaure suns to brighten my day. Something to admire. Something to take delight in.  Somethings to savor. The neighours will figure I'm just too damn lazy to get rid of them.  But I've decided I will co-exist with the dandelion.  I will become mellow with yellow.

This is a song written and preformed by Augy G and His brother Ernie, It was written for their mother for Mothers Day. You might want to down load it for your mother.

Download the MP3