RETIREMENT

I have been giving some thought to retirement lately. Not that I dislike my job, I love my job, but retirement usually looms for everybody. Here is how I see this playing out.

The year is 2039 and I am 81 years old. I am working as a greeter at the front doors of our local Mega-Wal-Target-Mart when my brain-implant cell phone rings. It is my mom. She tells me my dad just broke his ankle stopping a puck while playing hockey. She says she isn't going to look after the silly old bugger because it will screw up her ski season. So she's shipping him over to my house for 6 weeks until he heals. I call my wife. She says it sounds like a great idea. The kids and grand kids would love having Grandpa in the house.

This is when the shortness of breath and chest pains start.

There is darkness, no white light to follow and the last thing I hear is a stranger's voice yelling "CLEAR"...then, nada.

Ahhh, retirement.

MORE STUFF

Technology and I have come to an agreement. Well, maybe more of an understanding. Perhaps best described as an impasse. Truth be told, technology wins, I am waving the white flag. No matter how many functions I learn for my phone, laptop or tablet I only get about half way there when the hardware and software update me into a new state of frustration and confusion.

It is very important that freshly washed and dryed socks be matched and folded. If you try to keep all your socks loose in the sock drawer you are tempting the fates. Trust me, I tried this once and it was spooky. I own about twenty pair of identical white socks and about 2 pair of black ones. I tossed them willy nilly in the sock drawer thinking statistics will allow me to pull a matching pair out in the dark with no more than three draws. The next morning I grab a white one then a black one then a red one then a grey one then a blue one then a green one with toes then a black silk stocking...oh wait, that was in there before...then a pink one. I really don't know what happened but I always match and fold my socks now.

If a seagull from Vancouver happens to run into a seagull from Newfoundland, will the Vancouver gull understand anything the Newfie gull is squawking about?

The universe is out to get me. No matter how far I get ahead the universe will boot my ass just that much further back. If I find $20.00 in a coat pocket I will rip my jeans and need to replace them. If I get a larger paycheck from overtime I get a flat tire and need to replace it. A large refund from Revenue Canada equals a major dental bill not covered by insurance. When push comes to shove I am absolutely terrified of winning the Lottery.

On the up side of life, my wife still loves me and she has nice boobs.

CONFUSING STUFF

The universe is a big and confusing place. In my little part of it here are some things that I cannot, for the life of me, figure out.

In Calgary there are thousands of miles of residential roads, streets, drives, crescents, cul de sacs and so on. But somebody's crappy old Yugo will always make it out of theses quiet, uncrowded parts of town just to finally break down in the middle of one of 5 major intersections at rush hour.

Television shows I can't stand manage to go on for season after season never to end. Shows I really like and watch from the premier usually last for about 3 episodes. Shows that I like that are still on the air I started watching late and have to play catch-up through re-runs.

I wear glasses and they are progressives which are kind of like bi-focals without the lines. In the winter when I come inside they fog up. For some reason they clear from the bottom up which means the reading portion of my glasses is clear before the part I need to actually see where I'm going clears up. Thump, thump, bang...found the stairs.

While in the kitchen, drop a sandwich, watch as it hits the floor. Drop an egg, watch as it hits the floor. Drop a jug of milk or juice, watch as it hits the floor. Drop a cup, plate or bowl, watch as it hits the floor. Drop the largest, sharpest chef's knife in my arsenal...oh, that I'll try and catch.

More to follow...maybe.

PLATITUDES

It's been a stressful week or so. Nothing unusual, same old same old; global climate change, world hunger, over population, whack job countries with nuclear weapons, my car making a new weird noise. You know...stuff. I'm feeling better now, as is my car, but it got me thinking. When people are feeling low about, well, whatever, we tend to offer some platitude or another to try to help. It never helps and we know it won't, of course, but we do it anyway.

I don't know if it's because I take stuff too literally but platitudes make me crazy. I know what the idea is behind the statements but in my head...

"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." What if you are allergic to citrus? What if you don't like lemonade, is it alright to make perogies instead? What if you cut yourself slicing the lemons and get the juice in the cut? Have you ever got lemon juice in a cut? Screw lemonade.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." I crashed a motorcycle on the street, was in two car accidents, broke a bone playing squash, crashed an atv into a tree, crashed a motorcycle in front of a class I was teaching, crashed a dirt bike and got thrown into a tree. None of these killed me but they sure didn't make me stonger, hell, they didn't even make me smarter.

"Go with the flow." Right, ask the lemmings how that works for them. Or, what if you fall off a raft and are now heading towards class 5 rapids and then a waterfall? Nope, not going with the flow.

"Time heals all wounds." This is just ass backwards. I am in my 50's and all time is doing is reminding me a little more every year of the wounds I suffered when I was younger.

"Everything happens for a reason." Of course everything happens for a reason. You could be walking down the street minding your own business and get hit by a meteor, of all things. The reason? Orbital mechanics, gravity and bad luck. Nobody said everything happens for a GOOD reason.

"This too shall pass." This makes me think of kidney stones. Yes, they will pass but what a painfully rough ride. This is no help at all.

"Man up." Hahahaha. You want a guy to be tougher or stronger or more ethical or moral you shouldn't tell them to "Man Up" for God's sake, you should tell them to "Woman Up". If don't know why, you don't know a thing about the women around you.

Don't offer platitudes, they are silly. You want to help, give 'em a hug. Hugs work.

SIZE

Does size really matter? Is bigger really better? Is it all about how long it takes? Just because it's big and goes on an on does that make it "good"? Isn't it nice, sometimes, just to dive right in and get to the point? Sometimes I'm a little tired: sometimes you might be a little tired but we are still in the mood. Sometimes one of us may have a headache but willing to press on. And, sometimes, I don't have much to say and this blog will be a little on the small side.

I wonder if it's because it's cold out?

SHOPPING

I like shopping...mostly. I like the usual manly shopping stuff like cars and motorcycles. Oh, yes, definitely motorcycles. And electronics, I really like electronics, too. Hardware stores and home renovation stores, yup and yup. Oh, and Jetpacks. I really like shopping for Jetpacks. Or at least I will, when they finally open "Jetpacks R Us". I used to like shopping for toys when the boys were younger and I hope to do so again when the next generation (finally) rolls around.

I am also, however, a fan of some of the less traditionally manly shopping sites. I like grocery shopping, not sure why. Probably because I like to cook...and eat. I like shopping malls too, especially during Christmas. I even like clothes shopping, although it's hard to tell by the way I dress.

My all time favorite place to shop? The book store. Any bookstore. The big chain bookstores, the small independent bookstores, the corner used bookstore. Even the public library. Hours and hours of time well wasted.

There is one place, though, that I absolutely hate going to. And that place is Ikea. I have only been there once and there will never be a twice. I discovered a world of things to hate about Ikea but several comedians made the same points much better than I could. However, what none have mentioned, and what irked (yes, irked) me most were the lines on the floor to indicate lanes to walk in and arrows to point which way to go. These are not arrows to point the way to something in particular but what direction Ikea wants you to go and the lines to tell you where to be while going there. I, of course, ignored all this and, my God, the dirty looks I got from people! Almost hostile. Couldn't I see the Lines? Couldn't I see the arrows?

Well, For all you stay between the lines and follow the arrows Ikeabots I have one word...MOO.

DARN!

DARN!

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