JOIN THE CLUB.

 I am not much of a joiner. Although I like to spend time with family and friends, getting together with a crowd of so called like minded souls in pursuit of a like minded goal just ain't my cup of tea. I don't belong to any clubs or associations or consortiums (consortia?) or leagues or unions or guilds or syndicates or gangs.

I don't belong to (or attend) any church, nor do I lean towards any particular religion...although the Reformed Druids kind of peak my interest. Spiritually, I suppose, I'm kind of...well...not. Doesn't seem to keep me from being a reasonably decent guy, though. And my wife loves me; to my constant amazement and pleasure.

When it comes to things I do for fun I tend to do those alone or in small groups. I like to read which is, usually, a pretty solitary pursuit. I like to build plastic models (yes the models most of us guys used to build as kids) and that, too, is something done on one's own. Even when doing my favorite thing...riding my motorcycle...I prefer to be alone or with the Explorer on the back. Just out and about enjoying the view and the fresh air getting shoved up my nose. I do have three or four friends who I will ride with at times as well; but not those big group rides...don't like them.

All that being said, I also don't want to end up a crazy, lonely old guy sitting around in his underwear with a beer in one hand and the T.V. remote in the other, yelling abuse at some nattering CNN talking head. At least no more often than I currently do. So in an effort to avoid this, and in spite of everything else written above, I have decided to create my own club. (Did think of starting my own religion because the money looks so good but I don't care for public speaking.)

As far as clubs go this one's going to be pretty easy going. No dues, no meetings, no uniforms, no funny hats, barely any rules whatsoever. Anyone, regardless of gender, race, creed, religion, political affiliation, sexual orientation, or I.Q. can join. The only requirement is an Internet connection. That is how we will keep in touch. We will post our latest readings, photos, rants and raves, whatever you want. Hell, you can post pictures of your lunch for all I care. As a matter of fact you can...What?...Facebook?...936 million users per DAY?

Pants off, CNN on, remote and beer in hand.

THE INTERNET AND ME.

The Internet is a pretty darn cool tool. There is access to music, film, communications, books, educational resources, all sorts of nifty stuff. Oh, and if you search long and hard (pun intended) you might find some porn. Not that I'm the type of guy who would go in search of such things, porn, I mean. But sometimes it finds you.

In my ongoing attempt to broaden my knowledge, I was doing an Internet search for the effects busy coastal airports have on the migratory patterns of certain coastal birds; specifically, the blue footed booby. I typed in the search words "boobies and landing strips"...oh my, oh dear, Mr. Google where have you taken me? Those are not birds...well, I suppose if your a fan of British slang...but not the birds I was looking for. Nor, I fear, is that what I meant by landing strips. Just a peak then...for educational purposes of course...ooh, consider my knowledge base broadened and my face a-blushing.

That, unfortunately, was not my only sojourn into the darker side of the Internet. A while back I was wondering if women motorcycle riders suffered from dangerous increases in body core temperature when wearing proper riding gear as opposed to regular street wear. This led to the totally innocent Google inquiry "Hot Girls/ Tight Leather". Good grief...Really? What is wrong with people?  Jeez, I'm trying to do some real research here. Um, maybe just a quick peek.

Then there was the truly horrifying event of 2014. I was watching a documentary on the construction of the Empire State building and wondered what the current record holder for tallest building in the world was? This also made me wonder if there are separate world records for buildings, towers, and antennae. So, wanting to combine all of the above in a simple search string, who wouldn't type  "World's Tallest Erection"...let me tell you now, before you try this for yourself, do not search "World's Tallest Erection" because bad things will appear and self esteem may disappear.

So, does this mean that all Internet roads lead to porn? Not necessarily. But there is a certain amount of care required in the choice of search phrases. I have learned this lesson very well and my choice of research projects on the 'net reflects that.

Okay, new research topic..."Does wearing see through yoga pants while topless cause extreme breast augmentation?" Well, according to Google...

JOKE OF THE DAY

I thought I'd try something new for this blog post. I'm going to tell a joke; as opposed to a rant or rave or a story.

Here we go.

A blonde, a brunette, and a redhead walk into a bar...oh wait...this might be construed as sexist.

Better try another one.

A priest, a rabbi, and and a druid walk into a bar...darn, I think this might upset all those of a religious bent.

Lets try this one then.

A gay, a lesbian, and a transgender walk into a bar...oops, don't want to offend the LGB, LGBT, LGBTQ, or LGBTIQ. Not sure which one is proper usage so included them all...I hope. Don't want to offend when trying not to offend.

Okay, lets try this.

A Native American, an African American, and an Asian American walk into a bar...racist? Oh, right...sorry.

Thank goodness I have a bit of a repertoire.

An family of fat folks walk into a McDonald's...um, body shaming? Ah yes, I have heard about this.

Next then.

After a workout a sweaty woman walks into a Tim Horton's...what? Sweat shaming? That's a thing?
Fine.

A dog a cat and a...my, oh my, forgot about the animal activists.

A cow, a pig, and a chicken walk...well, heck...vegetarians.

Two drunks are sitting at a bar...hmmm, recovering addicts.

An old man and woman...is that someone from AARP knocking at the door?

One last kick at the can.

Three androgynous humanoid-like creatures were standing in the middle of a nondescript area, saying nothing, doing nothing, just staring off into space and...really? The International Association for the Protection of Rights for the Humour Impaired?

I am imagining Aldous Huxley and George Orwell sitting in an afterlife Starbucks having a cup of tea discussing the current state of our society...

Aldous: "Well, George, I sure as hell didn't see that coming."
George: "Nope, me either. What a bizarre twist. Wish I thought of it."

Postscript:
If a joke is told in the forest but nobody is there to hear it...Is somebody still offended?

THE WAITING GAME.

As a culture, we seem hell bent on living a life in search of instant gratification. We want our new house now, our new car now. The newest clothing fashions, electronics, home decor, software...now, now, now. If not now, it's too late. We want our Internet connections faster, our fast food faster, our dating faster, and our weight loss fastest of all. We want all the episodes of our favourite T.V. shows all at once, without commercials, instead of once a week. We want 11 second video vines instead of thoughtful film. We want 140 character "tweets" instead of meaningful thoughts put to paper (real or electronic). We want our online purchases shipped overnight and God protect those companies short on stock.

"Good things come to those who wait" seems to have been overshadowed by "I got mine, got yours yet?"

And so what, then, happens when we are forced to wait for something we want right now? Well, we seem to have become a culture of horn honking, foot stomping, ulcer suffering, bad Yelp review writing, 2 year old's in adult bodies.

And here is the bad news...Waiting is not going away. We will always end up waiting for something. The Doctor or Dentist will be running behind, the restaurant will be busy, the mechanic isn't quite done with your car, the train blocking the intersection is going back and forth,...there will always be something.

So what do we do? Well, waiting is not going away so, time for a change in attitude, time for a change of view, time for...Ahh, time. Time is the answer. We currently look at waiting as a waste of time. Why don't we look at it as an opportunity? Use that time...you're just hanging around anyway.

READ. I hear people say "I have no time to read!" Sure you do. Sitting in a waiting room some where? Read a book, use a tablet, hell, we all have a phone that is an entire library that fits in your pocket. Read something.

LISTEN. We have all pulled up to the house right in the middle of a great song and sat in the car until it was done. Stuck in traffic? Crank the tunes and enjoy! Switch to talk radio and learn something. Plug in an audio book and well, read with your ears.

WATCH. Stuck in a lineup at the grocery store or retail store? Look around. Watch the people around you. People are funny and, therefore, fun to watch. Or Read...or Listen.

TALK. Waiting in a restaurant and the food is a bit slow? Who cares, have another glass of wine! You are there with friends or family...talk to them....that's why you are really there anyway. Dining alone? Read, Listen, Watch.

We have a lot of technology at our fingertips these days. Use that technology to ease the pain of waiting. Or, ignore the tech and enjoy the people we are with or around. Make waiting a relaxing thing, a learning thing, a fun thing.

Unless you have to pee...then all bets are off.

LITTLE BITS "O" STUFF.

1) Today I started my new "Cross-Fat" training program. In addition to the usual high fat, high carb regular diet there will be alternate days on the couch watching TV eating bacon, with days in a comfy chair with a book eating potato chips. Too much coffee every day with wine, beer, and scotch on days deemed appropriate. (Appropriate defined as days of the week ending with the letter "Y") Vegetables by accident or deep fried and exercise...hahahaha...exercise. Of course there might be work tucked in there somewhere...we'll see.

2) Work is trying to kill me. I don't mean in the figurative way as in"Work is killing me!" but in the literal way, as in actively out to end my life. Traps have been set and I have come close to death.
We have a mezzanine where we store stuff and to get to the stuff there is, of course, a set of stairs. As you walk up the stairs on the very top step there is a sign. The sign says "Watch Your Head". This is the trap. As you look up to watch for low hanging head bangers (clearance is really about 10 FEET) what you don't notice is the last step is actually 3 inches taller than the rest of the steps. What's the big deal you ask? Place a 3 inch piece of wood on a top step, get in the rhythm of walking up 16 steps and then see what happens when that last step is taller.

3) I like toast. All kinds of toast. White, whole wheat, sourdough, rye, you name it and I will probably like it. And on my toast I like peanut butter. Not crunchy peanut butter, smooth peanut butter. If I am feeling in the mood I might add jam or, on rare occasions, honey. Some times I will get a craving, bad as it is, and go with Cheez Whiz instead of peanut butter on my toast. Those of you waiting for a point or a punchline...nope...I just like toast and thought you should know.

4) I am waiting for the day when someone sues Planters Peanuts because of an allergic reaction to the peanuts and the reason for the lawsuit is Planters did NOT have a notice on the jar of peanuts that said it may contain peanuts.

5) Time is not a constant, it is relative. You want proof? Consider this. You are finally asleep after tossing and turning for hours when your alarm goes off; you hit the snooze button, which is set for 15 minutes, close your eyes and in 15 minutes off it goes again. Now, another situation. You are on your way home from work and are almost there when you come to a train crossing currently occupied by, well, a train. The train will clear the crossing in 5 minutes but you had that extra coffee at work and forgot to go pee before you left. Which is longer, The 15 minute snooze or the 5 minute train?

CONVERSATIONS.

I work in the customer service industry and, for the most part, I love my job. I enjoy dealing with people, especially when I can help them get what they want, or need, and they are appreciative of my efforts. Most customers are very understanding about lineups in a busy store and are quite knowledgeable about the machines they own. Those who are new to the machines they own and are willing to learn are also a pleasure to deal with. However, there are those certain few people that just get to me. I, of course, have to bite my tongue and smile through the pain of dealing with them when I really just want to speak my mind. But, I also have a laptop and my own blog so...conversations with customers never to be spoken aloud.

Take 1
Angry customer standing in front of me.
Him: "I called three times and nobody answered the phone so I'm here in person."
Me: "I am sorry about that, sir. Did you leave a message so we could call you back?"
Him: "No"
Me: "You're an idiot...go away."

Take 2
Customer has been standing in line for a while; finally gets to the parts counter; several customers still waiting behind him.
Him: "I tried calling several times, why don't you guys ever answer the phone?"
Me: (Looking at him, then looking at the crowd behind him, then looking at all the other parts people serving other customers.) Phone rings. I answer it.
Him: "W.T.F. are you doing answering a call when a customer is standing in front of you?"
Me: (Covering mouthpiece of phone) "Gee, ain't nothing gonna make you happy is there? You're an idiot...go away."

Take 3
Him: "I need a part."
Me: "Certainly, what is the make model and year of the vehicle?'
Him: "I don't know...it's red...maybe yellow. It might be an ATV...or a water pump...maybe a weed whacker. Is that really important?"
Me: "Um...what part do you need?"
Him: "It's that kinda square thing that does stuff when it's Tuesday."
Me: "Um..."
Him: Oh never mind, I'm going somewhere else." Then posting on Yelp "These parts guys don't know anything."
Me: Posting reply on Yelp..."You're an idiot, stay away."

Take 4
Him: "I need two new wheels for my lawnmower."
Me: "Can you give me the serial number of your mower so I can select the proper wheels from the hundreds of different ones available, none of which are interchangeable, thus ensuring you receive the ones that will actually fit?"
Him: (Totally ignoring above) "Just give me the wheels, they are all the same!"
Me" (Handing over two wheels, a blow torch, a roll of duct tape and a big ass hammer.) "Here are your wheels sir, complete with the appropriate tools for making them fit on the axle. No refunds...and...you're an idiot, go away."

Take 5
Me: Taking a phone call.
Her: "I need a part for our Yamadoodle dirt bike." (His voice in the background yelling - Yamaha, it's a Yamaha!)
Her: "We need a front tire." (Him in background - TUBE, front tire TUBE!)
Her: It needs to be heavenly...(Him in background - Heavy...a heavy duty tube!)
Me: "Put him on the phone."
Him: "What?"
Me: "You're an idiot and an insensitive boob. Apologize to your wife for putting her through this...then go away."

This is a work of fiction...mostly...

BORED AND LAZY

Just me and "Her Royal Muttness" in the house at the moment. The Explorer is already at work and I don't start work today for a couple of hours. What to do, what to do? Nothing on TV, dishes can wait, Facebook holds no interest and if I get back into my current reading (a terrific bit of work by Vernor Vinge) I'll end up lost for the whole day (not necessarily a bad thing). Rats, looks like I should write something.

Unfortunately, I'm not only feeling bored but also lazy. Got some tunes on and have plunked my ass in a chair and propped my laptop on...well...my lap. Now all I need is a topic. I have three partially completed posts that don't seem to be going anywhere so I think, and here is the lazy part, I shall just throw them all in today's soup and, as I aspire to literary pretensions, call them vignettes. And yes, I get the irony of aspiring to literary pretension.

I do my best thinking in the shower. Lots of hot water and soap result in lots of slippery, soapy thoughts. These thoughts do tend to be fairly one tracked, and adult in nature, but pretty dang good thinking.

As I wander aimlessly through my autumn years, contemplating the meaning of life, I become more and more horrified at the thought that Monty Python got it right.

I wear glasses. I  tried contacts years and years ago but just can't stand poking myself in the eyes. One of the most annoying thing about glasses is having to clean them. An entire industry has been built around the proper care and cleaning of glasses because, ask any eye wear company, glasses are delicate and must be cleaned only with the most expensive, and preferably their, products. I paid a shit load of money for my glasses and the "Anti Scratch Technology" that goes with it and I cant use water and a hunk of toilet paper to clean them? Good grief, that paper is soft enough for my delicate bum but will scratch my lenses? I clean my house and car windows with chemicals and paper towel and not a scratch to be seen. Smells like corporate conspiracy to me.

I am going to take a quick break here. There stereo is playing Emerson, Lake & Palmer "C'est la vie" and requires closed eyes and great volume...

Back now and have added moody to bored and lazy.

I have lots of good friends but my best friend is my wife, The Explorer. There are lots of reasons why she is my best friend but mostly because she still likes to join me in a hot shower for soapy adult thoughts. There, we have now come full circle.

One quick note to my friend Liberty. This post is what happens when I follow your advice and just sit down and write... without direction...just writing. Even I think this post is strange. On the up side, it did clear out some partial bits of wordplay that didn't seem to be going anywhere so...Thanks?

GETTING OLD?

I was sitting out on the deck this morning, enjoying my coffee and the beautiful July weather, when I was struck, out of the blue, with a disturbing thought. Holy shit...I'm 57 years old...I'm middle aged! I can get seniors discounts at restaurants! Kids at stores say "Can I help you sir" and I don't turn around looking to see if my Dad is standing behind me. When the hell did this happen? Stepped into the bathroom and had a good look in the mirror (hmmm, need to trim the nose hairs)...well, still me...but not 25 year old me. Getting a little depressed and that, my friends, leads to this.

I started taking stock of what this middle aged man has done lately.

1) Took the bike out to Revelstoke area for a weekend of camping with friends. My oldest son and my nephew came along to join the old farts and show us how to party. Late on the first evening, shortly after the park ranger asked, politely, if we would turn down the tunes a bit (we did), we tucked the kids into their sleeping bags and the old farts continued on. Repeated same on night two. Boy, those two 20-somethings sure showed us a thing or two about partying. (Insert sarcastic snort and chuckle here)

2) The lovely Explorer was out on the deck with her back to the door. I snuck up behind her and lightly tickled the back of her neck. She jumped up swatting at non-existent bugs then saw me...I ran away giggling like a school girl. The fact I live to write this is proof of her love.

3) Had nothing new to read one Sunday and the library was closed. Went digging through some boxes of books scheduled to be donated when I came across an old Heinlein novel I first read as a kid. Read it again and enjoyed it as much as I did the first time.

4) Rode out to Springbank with a buddy to see the Springbank Airshow. Spent hours wandering around with a smile on my face. Ooh, look at that...wow, that's so cool. The CF-18 demonstration plane had my heart racing and my brain awestruck.

5) Was at the grocery store pushing a loaded cart...the aisle was empty of other people... got the cart up to speed and hopped on the back for a ride. Did it again in the parking lot. Yup, still fun.

6) Saw a commercial on TV for the new Sharknado movie "Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No!" I was so excited about this I checked the TV every day until it came up on the schedule and I could set it to record. Then saw an ad for "Lavalantula"! Yup, recording that too. Not sure what demographic the movie makers are shooting for here but know it's not mine...and I don't care...bring on the sharks and scantily clad beach bunnies.

7) Went to Mom and Dad's place for Mom's birthday. Mom said the camping weekend sounded like fun, Dad said he wished he tagged along to the airshow. Mom said her golf game is coming along nicely and Dad said his ain't quite what it was...they both still walk the golf course...carts are for sissies or the aged and infirm, apparently.

So, where does this short little personal stock taking leave me? Well, the hair is greying and thinning and the body is slowing a bit but, shit. I'm still havin' fun!

Right...bring on the next 57 years...I am ready to rock.

ALIENS AMONG US.

I am a believer that aliens do walk among us. Not the undocumented, sneaking in from other countries, illegal alien ones but the zipping in from outer space in U.F.O.'s kind of aliens.

Perhaps a little background. I grew up reading science fiction and always had a love of science. I was terrible at science in school but still loved it...and do to this day. Science Fiction just seems to keep stimulating the aging brain cells as well. My take on the "Are We Alone In The Universe" debate falls heavily in the "Not Bloody Likely" camp. I think that considering the size of the known universe (let alone the UN-known parts) it's a little naive to think we are alone. Hell, we still find new species of plants, animals and bugs on our own planet and still don't know what surprises are still to be found in the world's oceans. Our technology and science is good but we are a long, long, long way from knowing everything.

Just a little tip of the hat to the God fearing folk who might read this. If God created just us on this one planet, tucked away in a dusty corner of this insignificant galaxy, in an infinite universe...well, that's one hell of a back yard He gave us to play in. Not looking to debate Science vs Religion, it's just my opinion.

So, this brings me to the question of why us? Why would advanced alien cultures want to come here? We're an out of the way planet and, relative to them, technologically backwards. Who would care about visiting a pretty blue planet, far from the centre of things (galactically speaking) with (again, relative to them) few, if any modern amenities?

Tourists, that's who. Aliens visiting our planet are bloody tourists.

Think about it. Where do WE go when we want to get a way from it all? The wilderness. An island. Back to the basics. Somewhere far, far away from the day to day grind. Yup, Aliens are just a bunch of rich, big city asshole tourists out for a bit of "fun" with no concern for anything or anybody else.

And here is why I think this is so.

Crop Circles - Do our anthropologists or archaeologists go to foreign countries and run about defacing other peoples property? Nope. So why would advanced alien scientists? Crop circles are the asshole alien tourist version of asshole North American tourist graffiti.

Cow Mutilations - Just the alien version of our own big game hunters. Don't know why alien tourists think killing our cows with surgical precision is fun but, then again, I don't understand why earthly hunters enjoy killing elephants or lions or rhinos either.

Abductions and Probing - Our technology includes MRI's, X-Rays, CAT scans, and other non invasive technologies so why would a more advanced society use probing? They wouldn't. It's the alien tourist version of our own planet's nasty foreign sex trade.

U.F.O. Crash Sites - This is the big one. With a quick Google search I found there were at least 36 "Documented" U.F.O. crash sites that have been discovered since the early 1940's. 36 crash sites. I just can't believe alien scientists have the technology to build galaxy spanning space ships, with faster than light abilities, and can actually find their way all the way here just to crash on arrival. Who the hell does that? Drunk, asshole tourists, that's who. No different than our own drunk, asshole tourists in foreign countries.

There, all explained...your welcome.

WHY WRITE.

I'm a fairly laid back kind of guy as far as life goes. I don't really give much thought, or even care, what others may think of the choices I have made, or will make in the future, about things in my life. I work at a job that I like but won't make me rich. I dress appropriately for what the occasion demands but strive for comfort over fashion. I live in a house that isn't big and fancy but serves my needs. My car is 26 years old but reliably gets me where I want to go. My motorcycle is 10 years old but always puts a smile on my face when out riding. I have good friends, great kids, a fantastic wife, and parents and siblings who seem to like me.

So...If I'm not driven by fame, money, fashion or possessions, what does get me going? I'll tell you what. Writing. I like to write. What's more, I like the responses I get from my small circle of readers about what I write. I enjoy the feeling I get when people comment on these posts. I like to get "Likes" on my Facebook posts. In short, I suppose, I like being liked.

I think most of us feel this way to a certain extent. As human beings we seem to need to seek approval from those around us and, for me, I get this from my writing.

My goal, such as it is, is to entertain others with my thoughts and words. This gives me the warm fuzzies. Does this make me vain? I don't think so. If anything, it shows more insecurity than anything else. I can live with that...I do live with that.

This post is quite a departure from what I normally babble on about and I want to tell you why. I went four months without posting to this Blog. I don't know why I suffered this dry spell...I just did. Yesterday I forced myself to sit down to write something even though I had no particular idea where it would go. I posted the results and immediately felt better about...well...everything.

What forced me to sit down yesterday to write? Well, let me tell you. A friend of mine, Liberty Forrest, is a professional writer, with real books, and real sales and real awards and all sorts of real writerly stuff going on. (check her out at www.libertyforrest.com). We got together for coffee a year or so back and she tried to give me some advice on writing when the mood does NOT strike you. Because I can be both stubborn and lazy I filed this wise and sage advice back in a dusty unused part of my brain and did not use it...until yesterday. The advice? Sit down and start to write. It doesn't matter what you write...just write...even the same word over and over...write something. There was other excellent advice as well but this was the bit that fit the bill.

And so it goes again today, Thank you, Liberty, for your friendship and free advice...this wild departure from my norm is your fault...and I truly appreciate it.

A WEDNESDAY MORNING IN JUNE.

It's a little chilly this morning so instead of kicking back on the deck with a coffee and a book I have turned on some tunes and plopped the lap top on my, well, lap and have started typing. No central theme today; I am in the mood to ramble...blame the tunes.

Ah, one of my favorite songs just came on; "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" by The Band. What band you ask? Don't bother, I think I hear your mommy calling you in for breakfast and your favorite Taylor Swift song is on.

Anyway, this got me thinking. I like the original by The Band but I like the cover by Joan Baez as well. This is unusual as I don't normally like covers of tunes when I like the original. The one big exception to this is "Black Magic Woman" by Carlos Santana. I like this a lot better than the original by Peter Green...you know..."Fleetwod Mac"? Did I lose anybody yet? No worries, I'm sure there's a Miley Cyrus tune out there for you.

(Short break for cranking it up for "The Moody Blues")

Back to the action...

I can't figure out if I'm some sort of music snob or just a grumpy old fart set in my ways. There is a lot of good music out there today...it just seems you have to work harder at finding it. Seems to me most of the commercial stuff is repetitive, with meaningless lyrics, and the instrumental play (if it's not some techno-electro-computer generated crap) is secondary instead of complimentary.

On the other hand, my parents have been known to yell "Turn down that noise!"

Grumpy old fart it is, then.

Following the theme (contrary to what I wrote in the first paragraph) of old fartedness, some weird shit going on...body-wise.

How come my fingernails grow faster than my toenails? I'm not complaining, mind you (toenails are harder to clip as my waist seems to be getting a little more in the way these days) just wondering.

And on the topic of growing things; what's with the wildly erratic grey hairs? Always growing twice as fast as the others that still retain some colour and in some contrary direction or weird spiral.

Told you I was going to ramble.

ODE TO FEBRUARY

Today the sun shines on my head.

It's trying to turn my bald spot red.

I think the ground hog has misled.

But thoughts of snow fill me with dread.

The road out front is looking clear.

My motorcycle standing near.

I'm gathering my riding gear.

But thoughts of snow fill me with fear.

Warm sunny skies I can't explain.

I'm not afraid of a gravel lane.

I can ride just fine in cold or rain.

But thoughts of snow fill me with pain

Check the battery and fill one tire.

Lots of fuel for spark plugs to fire.

Found the key so no hot wire.

But thoughts of snow fill me with ire.

Almost made it, almost rode.

Bye bye sunshine; hello cold.

And if I may be crass and bold.

No more thoughts...it F@#KING snowed!

OH NO...IT'S ELECTRONIC!

I, am an amazing fella. Just ask my wife...or my Mom...or anybody really. I can ride a motorcycle in a straight line at slow speed without putting a foot down. Dogs wag their tails when I come near. Cats jump into my lap to be rubbed. I can pick up a crying baby and turn the tears to giggles. I convinced a hot girl, 27 years ago, to spend the rest of her life with me. I have two boys that actually like to spend time with me. Women of all ages think I am "A nice guy". Hell, I can't even stuff a fiver in a stripper's g-string without her wagging her... um...fingers at me and whispering "No need big guy, on the house." I am imbued with the pure, unadulterated essence that is "Rickishness". I also have an extremely vivid imagination.

Yup, I am amazing. I can learn new things, I can make new friends, I can visit new places, I can even figure out new electronic gadgets...wait...hmm...new electronic gadgets...let's see...crap. The one thing that turns me into that cranky, frustrated, guy nobody wants to be around...new electronics, particularly phones.

I'm not going to talk about my cell phone, I can't even begin to talk about the issues I have with understanding my cell phone. I can call out, answer incoming, and text...that's about it. It's a Samsung Galaxy 5 and people tell me it does other stuff but not that I can figure out. But no, not the cell phone, this little rant is aimed at our new office phones.

Don't get me wrong, the new phones are great. They are new and clean and the cords don't fall out and the sound is really good and all the buttons work. Ah, the buttons, all 36 of them. Yes, 36 buttons and every one does something different. You can transfer and park and conference and hold and get messages and get e-mails and page others and intercom others and buttons that are not marked but do stuff and and and...

Our first few days with the new phones involved much confusion and staring at the things, wondering what button to push to make the weird noise go away and allow a conversation with a customer. Also, should you connect with said customer, what button to push to make the phone go on hold without losing the call while looking for whatever the customer needed. Oooh, many grumpy customers those first few days.

Right, grab the manual. I swear to God I am not an idiot, but  I could not understand a word in that thing. There is no way that manual was written by an English speaking person who has actually used the phone themselves. First of all, it is about 4 pages long...36 buttons explained in 4 pages. It is also filled with acronyms. The last page lists what the acronyms stand for, but I think it's in Swahili. It also uses English words (I think) to describe certain functions but with no context to explain...

"To perform a magical thing, place phone at 90 degrees relative to the sun and press the appearance button of your choice. This will cause rainbows and unicorns to defeat the dragons that have left messages in the internal call messaging centre that can be accessed by pressing the appearance button that was not selected initially in the first place. Select the proper PFK button that is not earmarked for other use to complete the process of dragon slaying and message erasure prior to being able to listen to said message. This procedure will not work, for obvious reasons, on Tuesdays. For the Tuesday procedure please access the online manual which is, as explained in the third manual which can be purchased through Amazon.com, written in Latin."

My brain started melting and leaking out of my ears.

Fortunately, help arrived prior to my committing phonicide in the form of a pair of "New Phone Trainers for the Curmudgeonly"...one was 12 years old and the other was, well, 12 years old. Three words into the training session my eyes glazed over and the brain melting resumed. I was in need of some serious adult supervision if I was going to learn this phone.

New work week starting tomorrow...the adventure will continue.

Oh, should my boss happen across this little missive...

All's well, phones are great, no problem, nothing to see here...

WINTER BLUES

I am not a winter guy. I used to be a winter guy. As a matter of fact I used to be a spring guy and a summer guy and an autumn guy and a winter guy. If I were better educated and a little more literate, you could say I was a man for all seasons. But I'm not and anyway that is all changing. Now I'm more like a middle aged guy for three seasons, heading downhill to becoming the crotchety old fart for one season... Hey, get off of my lawn you young whippersnappers! Damn kids.

Anyway, back when I was a kid (shortly after the demise of the dinosaurs but just before colour TV and cable) every waking moment of every season, not spent in school, was spent outside on bicycles or with footballs or baseballs or at the park or playing street hockey or skating or tobogganing or skiing or generally just frolicking about. As I got into my teens I added camping and motorcycles and cars and girls. In these tender years it did not matter what the season, there was something to look forward to.

Then I got older and winter seems longer and darker and colder and miserabler-er and I turned into a fair weather guy. Spring, because motorcycle season starts. Summer, because motorcycle season is in full swing. Autumn, because motorcycle season is winding down but still happening. I am turning into a one trick pony. Hell, I even work at a motorcycle dealership. And it's getting worse.

It started last summer.

Hmmm. What was the temperature out there? A little cool, better take the car. Oops, my night to work late. Better take the car. Is that a cloud over there on the horizon? Better take the car. Tuesday again? Better take the car. As much as I love riding, it seems last year was the year for excuses. If I don't watch out I'm going to turn into a couch and car guy. HOLY SHIT!!! Well that ain't gonna happen!

Screw the winter blues. If I'm going to be a three seasons guy...well...2015 - The Year To Ride.